14 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.
07/14 Stockholm, Sweden
Eventually the crowds gathered and like sheep we were herded onto the boat. I managed to weasel my way through the gridlock to the sunny side of the ship, found myself a deck chair and began to relax under the sun. There was a young lady who had the same idea and took the liberty to pull her chair up next to mine and start up a conversation. Honestly I was more interested in her bathing suit than the conversation. From here the view was spectacular. Thousands of white sails littered the horizon and the many islands looked as if God scattered them from his own hand. I got the feeling that Tom Sawyer’s spirit would have flourished among these conditions. We arrived into Stockholm’s port and again gathered like sheep toward the exit. The young man I met while waiting to board approached and asked if I enjoyed the trip. He explained that he had slept downstairs through the entire voyage and had only awakened less than an hour ago. “Well that explains why I didn’t see you“. He mentioned that he hadn’t done that much walking since being in the military and these last few trekking around had wore him out. I expressed that I had never joined nor had a longing toward joining my country’s military. I would most likely out of place since I don’t like being told what to do and when to do it. I added that in America, the majority of those in the military were volunteers and in many cases either had very little other options or it was something each generation in a family would participate in. I had neither. Apparently one of our noble soldiers was walking along side during our conversation and expressed his disagreement. I was embarrassed, getting caught expressing an opinion where I had very little knowledge or direct exposure. This Swede asked him if he enjoyed Finland. Our American soldier explained he didn’t have much time, so he never left the boat. The Swede thought this was quite foolish and a waste of time. I on the other hand he didn’t sleep below deck the entire trip either. I inquired if he could suggest the best way from the port to the train station. I knew I could always calibrate myself from there.
I followed my new guide into the city, where we came upon live music and a cast of characters that had taken over the city square. I still had the makings of a couple of sandwiches and my guide bummed some coke from someone in the crowd to mix with a bottle of vodka he had been toting. We got talking and he suggested if I wanted to get some rest, it might be possible to stay at his place. He explained that he didn’t have a key and would have to locate his roommates to get one. About that time of day, he explained, they would be in a small bar along the waterfront. I got the impression that this waterfront bar was a daily ritual. When we arrived at the bar he introduced each of his friends with nicknames. And from that point into the night I was forbidden to pay for a single drink. They explained that this alcohol was on the Swedish government and when this money runs out they’ll receive another check, so enjoy. After the third drink, one of his friends brought up that the “Aid for Africa Concert” being televised tomorrow. Apparently Led Zeppelin was reuniting to perform in this concert. This was the first I’ve heard of this and since I expressed interest, they suggested, if I wanted to, I could stay with them for the night and watch the concert tomorrow at their place. I agreed. The one they had named “Indian” suggested that we hit up a local nightclub. We all agreed and we began wandering the streets until we located its front door.
The nightclub was a lot larger than I expected and consisted of three stories. Each floor played a different decade of music. The group wandered in and headed up to the second floor while I checked by bags. The first thing I noticed was the beautiful girls. One after another entering, exiting, dancing, they were everywhere. The group had grabbed a large table just off the dance floor and we were just about halfway through the second round of drink when one my chaperons leaned over and asked me to dance. My mind quickly assembled all the pieces gathered over the last few hours and drew a picture. Let’s see. Five guys all living in the same house, pick-up a guy traveling and provide an unlimited amount of alcohol. Instinctively and without letting myself be noticed, I reminded myself where the exits were. “No, you don’t understand” my hopeful dance partner responded. Concern must have been written all over my face. He tried to explain to me that the girls would be responsible for separating us. Guy on guy was not allowed, look at the dance floors. He had to explain this a few times and I needed confirmation from the others before I hesitantly followed him onto the dance floor. As he predicted, within seconds two girls were out on the dance floor separating us. A beautiful young lady was standing right in front of me and led me by the hand to a corner of the dance floor. After a few songs, she suggested to follow her to her table. “What I would like another drink”, she asked. “Put in on my tab” she said to the waitress. It was like I had wandered into a parallel world with only beautiful women and all the roles were reversed. I kinda felt like a kid in a candy shop and my eyes started to wander the floor to see what other delights I could taste. When my glass was down to ice cubes I headed back onto the dance floor to see if what happened before was real or if I imagined it.
Eventually the night was fading into morning and the group began to gather for the walk home. I detoured just left of the entrance to claim my checked bags. Then it happened. Either I never understood the rules or somehow I ended up on another episode of candid camera. I almost got the impression that I was required to go home and sleep with my dance partners. Not a bad deal, and it did cross my mind a couple of times. Two of the girls I danced with followed me to the coat room. They started arguing about something and it escalated into yelling. Then one pushed the other and it turned into an all out cat fight. A large crowd gathered and it was then I realized that my chaperons had wandered off without me. We were all pretty drunk. Once I was able to remove myself from the commotion, I left the two girls behind and started down the street to see if I could find them. It was like they had vanished. It was late and I had nowhere to sleep. Seems I made a couple of bad choices. Maybe I should have followed the winner of the cat fight home.
On my trek back into the city, I stopped at a couple of hotels to see if they had cable hooked up, if they could accommodate me watching the concert tomorrow. After a few conversations and a cigarette, I eventually ended up in front of a closed train station waiting for a cup of coffee. I attempted to call home but with numerous pages torn from the back of the phone book, I wasn’t able to figure things out. There were group of kids clowning around a few feet away, so I explained my situation and sought help. The mere mention of helping a disabled California caused the young men to jockey for position. They practical arm-wrestled one another for the chance to prove to the young ladies of the group that they could do it, but after numerous attempts everybody gave up. One of the young men who failed to demonstrate his ability to figure out the phone system suggested that I follow him home. I could spend the night at his parent’s house, kick back the next day, hang around and watch the concert that evening. I guess my only other option was to wait another three hours for a cup of coffee. We headed down into the subway only to discover that it too had closed. So this young man, his friend and I piloted a taxi into the countryside. As we began assembling our change they quickly came to the conclusion that we would be short. So about half way to our destination they instructed the cab driver to a new location, his friend’s parents’ house. Apparently his parents wouldn’t be home the next day either, so they decided to go there since it was closer and was more in line with the change we had in hand. We pounded down a few more drinks and fell asleep as “The Song Remains The Same” played in the background.
