As you may or may not remember, my dear friends Elizabeth, Sean, and James tragically moved to Stockholm last August. Tragic for us, of course- not them. They have settled just fine with a gorgeous flat, a more interesting job for Sean, daycare for James, and the potential for Elizabeth actually to WORK IN HER FIELD (working in one’s field of study is extraordinarily rare if you’re an ex-pat. We’re mostly forced to teach English. Thank God I got to become a photographer instead)!
We promised to visit them this winter, so when I saw they were selling a cruise to Stockholm for 70 euros, I booked the room right then and there.
Olli’s parents were WONDERFUL and watched the kids for us. Which meant we had a bedroom ALL TO OURSELVES for TWO WHOLE NIGHTS. And you know what that means, right?
Two whole nights of SLEEP. Why, what did you think I was going to say?
In addition to the amazing uninterrupted sleep we were thrilled about, Olli and I planned a romantic date night which involved Olli, me, a laptop, and the final season of 24 on DVD. It was our plan to head to the buffet (imagine an unbelievable amount of mediocre food plus some mediocre dessert, accompanied by as much mediocre wine as you want for the *low* price of 35 euros/person!) and then immediately back to our room to watch as many episodes as possible before passing out.
Well, maybe it was one too many spoonfuls of “caviar” atop my mini blinis, or one too many servings of chocolate mousse, or maybe one too many plot twists, but by the third episode, I was curled into a ball, my eyes shut tight, willing myself not to vomit.
Olli graciously headed down to the concierge and retrieved some sea sick medication- I burrowed under the covers and didn’t come out save to pee and pump some milk. So much for uninterrupted sleep.
The return journey to Helsinki was far more successful. I avoided all suspicious fish eggs, and we watched at least five episodes, if not more.
We got back to Helsinki early Wednesday morning, fully rested and ready to face the day- or at least my impending stomach flu. But that’s a whole different story.
It is interesting how you interpret the word “ex-pat”. In my everyday professional environment, an “ex-pat” is sent by his job to work somewhere other than the country where the head office is located. Therefore “ex-pats” work in their field by definition. That’s how I also tend to use this word.
anna, all the ex-pats i know are, by and large, married to finns or nokia wives. we try to eek out an existence, checking our education at the door. it’s funny that you have the opposite experience.
Oh no! You got to get away and you got sick? Of all the luck.