Every year, there is a huge celebration in Hyde Park where all Swedes (and others) gather to get Shnitzelfucked and have fun. Do I have a fear of crowded places? No. (One thing on my bucket list is to have a double date with Hanzel at Thorpe Park). Do I have a fear of places crowded with drunk Swedes? Hmm, yes. That’s why I prefer to celebrate the traditions of Midsummer with a smaller group of people, as exhibited above and below. The last couple of years, my wonderful cousin Louise and her boyfriend Mikael have organized a party in their garden, much to everyone’s liking; thank you so much for organizing yet another fantastic party!
Talking about the weather never bodes for thrilling conversation, but I feel it must get an honorable mention this time; it wasn’t exactly great. But trust us Swedes to keep a happy face; why it was almost tropical! Outbursts of joy could be heard as the tent nearly collapsed under the weight of the sky; praise be the God’s for blessing us with rain! Aye, a most plenteous crop awaits!
I often get asked if I miss Sweden during this holiday, and if I wish I was home. Of course, celebrating in Sweden can be beautiful and idyllic, but I almost have more fun here in London; our little microcosm of expats always have a pretty good time together. So we carried on in the garden until very late, when we took the party upstairs to the couples apartment.
At a sensible hour (2.30) it was time to head home, but my evening wasn’t over yet… When I arrived at my door, my neighbor was stood outside with her boyfriend and a random man. Turns out, she had lost her bag and boyfriend somewhere between Ascot and Home and this stranger had found her wandering the street of Notting Hill. A gallant gentleman, he helped her home and awaited the return of the BF. Locksmith on way, yes, but these nice people can’t stand around on the street? So I invited them up to mine and made some tea and entertained and was entertained for about an hour, when the locksmith came. Now, I’ve had my fair share of dust-ups with breaking and entering into my own home, due to lost keys and whatnot, but this guy took the price. This locksmith wore a gas mask that looked as if he were preparing to head into the trenches of war, and indeed, it sounded as if he blew the whole damn door off; loud explosion followed by a thick cloud of smoke, dust and debris settled in the hallway. We were all temporarily blinded but when we came to, the door was open, like the closet of Narnia. Ah, the magic of Midsummer!
Looks like Micke has a really long arm?
My youngest brother Fredrik is in London for 5 weeks!
Our mini May Pole 🙂
The roof started caving in! Thank God for champagne buckets.
Wouldn’t it be great if these two got married? Then Hanna and I would be sisters for real.
The happy couple goes by Hanrik.
Post – rain group pic!
Louise, Georgina, Amanda, Hanna and I