Drunken Ruskis and Freshmen!

I mentioned in the last post that I went to see the UEFA Super Cup, a match-up between my two favorite club teams, in downtown Umeå on Friday night. What I failed to mention was that it was at an American themed sports bar and that I went alone. As I type this now I find it rather funny that my first excursion in Umeå's nightlife, downtown being a 45 minute walk away, took me to a place very reminiscent of every damn college bar in Madison or East Lansing. Speaking of Michigan, among the overwhelming plethora of Boston Bruins (?) crap covering the wall, I found this (image retrospectively artificially colored because I used no flash):

"Water Wonderland, and infinitely better than Ohio"

I'd never before sat alone at a bar muttering into my beer, which I found myself doing quite frequently. It's a natural form of entertainment when you can't eavesdrop on the Swedish speaking people around you. It was about halftime when a strapping young man, about my age, came to the bar and ordered some froofy blue looking drink. He was loaded. He turned to the older Swedish gentleman with whom I had fostered a silent, beer-sipping friendship and asked him a question I couldn't understand. The man hardly acknowledged him, so he in turn asked me the question. "På engelska vänligen (In English please)." A phrase I use something like 12 times a day. The next 5 minutes was a blur. Here are personal highlights I gained:  originally from Russia, speaks English with a British accent, "fucking" loves the Detroit Red Wings, Chelsea FC and FC Bayern Munich, is currently training to become a paratrooper for Swedish special forces, "fucking" loves CrossFit (including knowing the names, and listing them, of all the 'big time' CrossFit competitors worldwide), really drunk, never learned his name. In a flash it was over and he was gone. I had probably said something like 15 words.

Oh the people we meet..

As I left the bar, looking forward to a long walk along the river on a crisp and chilly near-Autumn evening, I saw this neon sign towering 3 stories above me:

You said it, Swayze.

The walk ended up taking around 75 minutes, mostly because I kept getting interested in off the beaten paths. Disclaimer:  this is not a good idea when two 60 cL beers deep in a still strange town at 1 in the morning.

The next day: After walking 2 hours the night before, I decided to again head downtown the next morning. I didn't get very far until an interesting event on campus forced me to stop. Students started class this week, but had one more Saturday afternoon of freedom to compete for the burning loins of their classmates. Freshmen!

Sponsored by Red Bull?

Lots of walking, sunshine, reading, and general sightseeing ensued. It was a good weekend.

Until next time! Skål!