Day 14- Stockholm to Malmö to Helsingborg

Boo! I was so sad to leave Stockholm and my awesome family, but I still have a lot of adventures ahead of me! 

I headed back to Malmö from Stockholm on a short flight, where naturally the man with the stinkiest cologne sat next to me. Then took the Flyggbussarna back to Malmo city center, where naturally a clean-looking but shit-smelling young man sat next to me. What the hell?

Anyway, I had a little bit of time in Malmö before I took the one-hour trip north to Helsingborg to see my friends Peter and Maria, so I got to catch up on all the things I didn't get to take pics of, and revisit some of my favorite places.

Here is one of my favorite campaign advertisements for the upcoming EU election. It means "how much security do we really need?" An excellent question!

I thought this cool building was an apartment complex or something. No, just a parking garage.

I couldn't resist another trip to Kaptainbruns Kiosk and enjoyed an extremely American meal in Sweden. Here are my fries, coke, and 'French' hot dog, aka God in a Bun. The buns here aren't nasty white bread like in America- they're fresh, fluffy baguettes with hot-dog sized holes in the middle. So amazing.

Running late as usual, I hoofed it back to the Central station and literally hopped on my train a second before it pulled out of Malmö! An hour later I was in Helsingborg with my awesome friends Maria and Peter! They moved into a new house about a year ago and are in the process of renovating it with their upstairs neighbors/friends and family. It's so incredible. Here's the backyard! Oh, and Peter and Maria themselves:

Selma's butt and some soy yogurt! Peter and Maria found Selma at a gas station, where she'd been stealing hot dogs from the convenience store. She's a pretty awesome cat, with a half-tail!

Later we took a walk in the neighborhood. On the way, we passed this graveyard where 30-odd victims of scarlet fever are buried. Peter got in the appropriate Swedish metal mood:

Near the graveyard is a nudie beach where, according to Maria, all the gross old men hang out and stand in shin-high water so that the sun reflects upwards and they get a perfect tan everywhere, even on their scrotes. They stand there for hours at a time, she says. She would know!

This little beachside camping ground was in financial trouble a few years ago, so none less than Henke Larsson, football player extraordinaire, bought it! Yes, this is Henke's campground:

We walked along the beach a little while, as some storms rolled in:

Then we arrived at the little fishing village of Råå. I've never seen such spelling in Sweden before, Maria says it's old Swedish. 

Then the rain came! Maria reminded me of an old saying that Anna-Carin taught me back in the day: det finns ingen dålig väder, bara dåliga kläder. Which means "There's no horrible weather, only horrible clothing." We took shelter in a little shack along the harbor, decorated with the nameplates of old boats, where old men gather at the end of the day and talk a bunch of shit about the big fish they caught that day.

Then we walked home in the sunset (around 10pm in Sweden) and watched an awesome Swedish film about four girls starting a punk band in 1982!