"Stockholmhaven," I corrected, although I was secretly annoyed that her name for it was much better.
"I expect you'll blog about it anyway," she said. I grinned.
"You know me too well."
I'm in Stockholmhaven, eating meatballs and a slice of Daim cake, which is making my teeth hurt. You know, everyone goes on about the meatballs, as though they had been fashioned by Odin himself, deep in the hall of the mountain king. They're pretty average, I think. And for some reason, they come with a sort of jam, which adds an unexpected sweetness to the Swedish gravy.
Anyway, this isn't a restaurant review. Here I am, milling around the village of furnishings, muttering to myself things like:
Who's going to buy that? What kind of house would that go in? and Haven't I seen this bit before; am I going round in a loop?
I have poor directional sense sometimes. I ended up in lighting three times before I realised I had completely lost the exit. This happens to me in a lot of shops.
On the plus side, I have found a mirror I like, and a floor lamp, which are after all, the things I came for. I just have to go back down and find them again.
There are lots of people here for a Monday. I'd say the queue for food currently has 90-100 people in it. I got my meatballs and Daim cake just in time I'd wager. Stockholmhavenvillage is filling up.
Hopefully I won't get lost again. I'm not sure I can survive on meatballs and Daim cake.
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