I could be in jail right now

But of course I'm not. That would just be silly. What would I be doing there?

I was in Stockholm this weekend. In this, I was not alone. I was, for want of a more fitting description, giving a tour of the Royal Capital. In this, the houses of parliament have to be included, it kinda goes without saying. Yes, despite me spending the better part of that sentence saying just that. So we go there, check out the place, and on the way out, just the two of us, I open the door out on to the street, and am about three meters (or slightly less than ten feet, for my metrically challanged friends) away from slamming said door in the face of none other than Mr Göran Persson and Mr Pär Nuder. Prime Minister and Finance Minister of the Kingdom of Sweden.

Had I been in America, I would never have gotten so close. At least I imagine the Secret Service keeps things squared away to the extent that they don't let random tourists open the door and potentially cause G.W. to have a nose-bleed on camera. Ok, so Göran (as I know call him) isn't the head of state like G.W., but his nickname is "He who's in charge", so that pretty much settles that, as far as I'm concerned. But anyway, Sweden is... different. Had I been armed with nothing more than a cake, and ample resentment for the establishment, I could have been the one responsible for the past Finance Minister, Mr Bo "Bosse" Ringholm looking like, well, this (back in 2001, image credit Aftonbladet.se):


But then again, like I said up top, I'm not in jail, nor have I baked any cakes lately (other than a really delicious cheesecake a couple of weeks ago, you can have the recepie if you want). So I was out of ammo. But it was still an exercise in fine timing, timing our exit with that of his Göran-ness. It's just a shame I didn't vote for the guy, but you can't have it all, as they say.

Getting squarely back on track, there was also actual sights to be seen. Such as this, which is possibly the finest looking 7-11 in all the land. Of course, being positioned right next to the "Royal Dramatic Theatre" (note English spelling) probably boosts the class of the place, anyway. We never went in, but I can't imagine they sell anything other than the finest beluga caviar and Dom Perignon '58. Which is probably the worst year of them all, what do I know?


We covered a lot of ground during our time in the Royal Capital, but I'll try to leave out all the random walking/shopping/tower-climbing/museum-going (see, I'm being cultured!). Instead, I shall leave you with a picture of these guys:


...who are basically all that stand between me claiming the following as my own. Damn it!


If anybody knows when the current tentant's lease is up, let me know. I wouldn't mind living there myself. Sure, it's not a very central location, but the surroundings are fabulous, and it's only a bus-and-train-ride away from downtown Stockholm. Although apparently, living there does mean you have to pay the toll if you choose to drive downtown from home, at least according to this. A small price to pay, surely, but a nuisance none the less.

Curses! I only now realise I should have titled this "Let them eat cake" instead. If only there was some sort of tool to change things you've already written...