Pre-Stockholm Syndrome by Gene

Hey guys, Gene here.

I’ll pick off where my dad left off. While dad went off and saw some boring thousand-year-old Viking ships *snore* mum and I stayed in Springy in the car park. It was an amazing experience! There were painted lines on the concrete and the occasional dog walker. And now and then, I kid you not, a CAR PARKED! We were both very excited but very sad to leave when dad finished looking at some boring education.

After that we stopped in a caravan park with a put-put course and disappointing slow wifi. I spend the better part of an hour trying to listen to a song on Youtube as ‘research’ for one of my stories. We later devoured a pizza so big that we still had leftovers that served as lunch for the next day. Mum later successfully perved on a van of guy who were parked next to us. (I was of course too busy reading)

We drove to a place called Karlstad that was riddled with dead ends and traffic jams. With the intent of finding a caravan park, we braved the terrors of the tiny roads, only to be let down by a festival that was occurring right where we had intended to park .So we instead stayed in park just off the side of the road. We had dinner in a restraint owned by a Greek guy who boasted about his food (he’s Greek, what did you except!?)

That was yesterday. Today we saw a sculpture by the famous Picasso. It  was basically a pole of concrete with differing swirls of black and white created by pebbles and plaster. There were also faces jutting out of its side, depending on which angle you viewed it on. I’m sure there was some sort artistic symbolism there, but I didn’t see it. Do you know that most famous artists didn’t make their sculptures themselves? Most of the time they create a small model of what they want and give it to somebody else, who does it for them. There even was one account of a man telling his helper what he wanted over the phone! Kinda ruins the image of your heroes, doesn’t it? Either way, it was still an impressive piece of art.

We are now at Stockholm (syndrome).  Tomorrow we are off to the old city of Uppsala. Dad is very exited because OLD STUFF. Mum is in dire need of a new book, and I’m working on a Markiplayer cosplay, so everything is turning out great.

Until next time, faithful readers.

(And unfaithful one as well. You bastards.)

Gene.