Uddevalla and Fjällbacka and Grebbestad! Oh, my!

We are the opposite of the people on the show Survivor: we can't wait to get off the island. Especially on the weekends. Since there's no bus service, we're stuck here unless we can borrow or rent a car.

This weekend, we rented a car and spent the weekend doing some exploring.

On Saturday, we started in Uddevalla. Our goal was to visit the nearest bike shop, and it did not disappoint. It was more like a bike warehouse than a bike shop.

So many bikes! All the bikes!!!

The prices were outrageous. Cheapest kids bike, on sale, was 2900 kronor. We still get sticker shock, even though we know the prices are in kronor and not dollars. (In our minds, "That bike is THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS?!") Even after the conversion, $300 for a kids bike was just too much for us.

We did a quick drive through Uddevalla, just to check it out. We found a cute playground, ocean-themed, as most of the local playgrounds seem to be. (We are on the coast, after all.) Uddevalla is much bigger than our little town, with a population of about 30,000 (Strömstad has just 6,000, but will swell to 60,000 with the summer tourists.)

Interesting furniture at the park. Each one was slightly different.

Uddevalla reminded me of a smaller Gothenburg: a big city, as opposed to a little town. It boasts two major attractions: a faux medieval castle, built in the early 1900s, and a local art and culture museum. I wanted to visit the museum, but Jeremy had other ideas, and I couldn't really blame him. It was a gorgeous, warm and sunny day. Not a good choice for poking around in a regional museum.

We found a cafe for lunch in the town square. It had some outdoor seating, and it was just warm enough to sit outside. Some of the restaurants here in Sweden have baskets full of fleece blankets for customers to cuddle up under when they sit outside. We wrapped up in eggplant-colored fleece as we ate our lunch.

Lunch in the square in Uddevalla. Don't know why I have resting angry face.

Next stop: Fjällbacka. It's a completely adorable seaside town with (no joke!) 859 residents. It's famous as the place where Ingrid Bergman spent her summers; it even has a square named in her honor. It reminded me a bit of Gloucester or Newburyport in Massachusetts: narrow, twisting roads up against the water, boats and fishermen everywhere you look.

Driving into Fjällbacka.

Fjällbacka Family Foto!
(Yes, that's Ingrid Bergman's head, but this isn't her square.)

The number one attraction in this tiny fishing village is called Kungsklyftan (King's Cliff). You climb through some sketchy narrow cliffs, up way too many wooden stairs, and then you get an epic view of Fjãllbacka and the surrounding archipelago.

Starting point.

Hiking through the gorge.

I needed my Walkman for this Stairmaster workout.

View from the top? Worth it. We followed a marked path along the top for a while before turning back for the descent.

Resting after the climb.

A heart-shaped puddle.

Savannah at the top!

Chelsea and I having another rest.

We ended our adventure day in Grebbestad, another tiny adorable fishing town. More twisty streets, narrow roads, and seaside splendor. This time of year, it was empty. Most of the shops were closed, restaurants boarded up for the off-season.

This guy's called Malkolm. 

Sisters swinging.

We found one cafe that was open, just in time for afternoon fika (too-strong coffee and the cafe's specialty: cheesecake). We found out later that Grebbestad has its own craft brewery. Now we have an excuse to go back!

Swedish Personal Number: A Play in Three Acts

Act I,  Scene 1

In a small hospital cafeteria, in present-day Sweden. HEIDI stands at the cashier, paying for a tray full of coffee and pastries with a credit card. The CASHIER stands behind the counter.

CASHIER: (In broken English) Signature and identification?

HEIDI: (signs receipt, hands over driver's license, smiles)

CASHIER: (looks puzzled, points to license) Your personal number?

HEIDI: Um, my PIN? Four digits?

CASHIER: No. Not PIN. Your personal number? In Sweden, we have a personal number...

HEIDI: Maybe... 9 digits? (thinking of Social Security Number)

CASHIER: No, 8 digits.

HEIDI: Um...my birthday?

CASHIER: (reluctantly) OK...

HEIDI: (says day and month)

CASHIER: And?

HEIDI: (says year)

CASHIER: (smiling) OK.

HEIDI: (relieved) Thank you!

(End of Scene)


Act II, Scene 1

In a small apartment, in present-day Sweden. HEIDI is making a phone call to arrange a taxi ride with the local transit service. The REPRESENTATIVE can be heard on the other end of the line.

HEIDI: (dials phone, listens to unusual international ringing sound, waits for several minutes, listens to options in Swedish, does not understand them, chooses a number)

REPRESENTATIVE: (speaks Swedish)

HEIDI: Do you speak English?

REPRESENTATIVE: Yes, a little.

HEIDI: I would like to get a ride home tomorrow evening.

REPRESENTATIVE: Yes, what is your personal number?

HEIDI: I don't have one. I can give you my birthday?

REPRESENTATIVE: Um, no I need your personal number.

HEIDI: I have a Swedish residence card. Can I give you that number?

REPRESENTATIVE: Let me speak to my colleague. (speaks in Swedish in the distance) You cannot have this ride unless you have a personal number.

HEIDI: (incredulous look on face, listens to dial tone)

(End of scene)


Act III, Scene 1

In a local administrative building, at the counter of the tax office, in present-day Sweden. HEIDI takes a number from a machine and waits her turn to speak with the TAX OFFICIAL who stands behind a tall desk. Her number is called and she steps up to the desk.

TAX OFFICIAL: (speaking Swedish) Hej, hej.

HEIDI: Do you speak English?

TAX OFFICIAL: Yes, a little.

HEIDI: I'd like to get a personal number.

TAX OFFICIAL: Do you have a residence card?

HEIDI: (smiling, hands over residence card)

TAX OFFICIAL: But you are only here for 6 months?

HEIDI: Yes.

TAX OFFICIAL: You must be here 1 year to get a personal number.

HEIDI: We want to buy a car, and we were told that we need to have a personal number to buy the car and get car insurance.

TAX OFFICIAL: (shrugs)

(End of scene)


(End of play)

Spring Planting

Yesterday was the first day here that felt warm. The high was 40 degrees Fahrenheit. I actually walked around without a hat for a few minutes.

People sat outside at the local cafes, and more people walked around outside in town. We also sat outside for a bit, without feeling like we were risking freezing to death.

So it seemed like a good day to start a little garden.

For Girl Scouts this year, Chelsea must complete an independent badge. She selects a topic, learns about it, and completes an activity with parent help. As soon as she heard that one of the badges was called "Scribe" there was no further discussion.

Savannah is in the same troop, but she's younger and doesn't have this requirement. Since we're away, the troop leader thought she might like to complete one of the independent badges anyway. She jumped at the chance.

I think the troop leader thought the girls might like to work together. I thought maybe the girls would like to work on a project together. We were both wrong.

Savannah chose the "Gardener" badge.

The final activity in working toward this badge is to make your own garden. We decided that the best we could do here is a kitchen herb garden.

We watched some YouTube videos to figure out what might grow on our windowsill, and Savannah made a list of plants she wanted to grow.

We bought some seeds and one little plant. Some soil and one little pot.

Tiny seeds in a little hands. A mother's heart swells.

We waited a day to get started, our little cilantro plant sort of wilted. We stuck it in the pot anyway.

Planting the droopy cilantro. 

We found another, bigger pot outside our apartment, so we planted the seeds in there.

Potting soil for the chive seeds.

It is unfortunate that Savannah has me helping with her gardening badge, because I have black thumbs. I have killed all of the plants that were supposed to be the easiest to keep alive. Succulents. Lucky bamboo. African violets in self-watering pots. (Sorry, Mom.)

Here's hoping Sweden will work its magic and these little plants will survive.

Month One Reflection

We left California on February 23, and today is March 23. It's our one-month-iversary!

One month in, I've learned a few things about our place and our town.

I've learned how to operate the household appliances. I've learned how to use that weird machine in the clothes drying room. I've learned that my hair dryer from home can only be used on the medium setting, lest it behave like a dragon and spit fire.

I know how to take the bus into town and to the big mall. I know how to reserve tickets at the (one and only) movie theater. I know how to avoid the school swim classes at the local pool.

I know my way around town, although I still get turned around at times. I know which cafes have free wifi and which have free bathrooms.  I know which bakery is the best one for getting your princess cake and fresh bread.


I now know a little about the food here.

I've learned that we're supposed to eat a slightly fancier dinner on Wednesdays (aka "little Saturday"). We should eat pea soup with pancakes on Thursdays, have popcorn and soda while watching a movie on Fridays (aka "Friday Cozy") and eat candy on Saturdays.

I've learned that when you buy your crisp bread, you should get the round one. Not the square one. And the stuff in the blue tube is caviar. And it is REALLY salty and REALLY fishy. And the rice pudding is supposed to have sugar and cinnamon added to it, or everyone will spit it out.

I've learned that there's a different word for oats than for oatmeal, and the cocoa powder is sold with the coffee, not the other baking supplies. ("Cause it's from a bean, mommy. Didn't you pay attention to that podcast you made us listen to?")


I know a bit more about my kids, too.

I've learned that my children having WAY less stuff makes it a lot easier for them to keep their room neat.

I've learned that they are adaptable. They go to bed at the same time, in the same room, even though they've always had different bed times and their own rooms.

I've learned to appreciate them more. Despite being away from their home, friends, and belongings, they are helpful, and playful, and joyful. (And yes, sometimes cranky and tired, but mostly joyful!)


Lots more learning to come, I hope. One month down, five more to go!

TV-Free Entertainment

Sadly, Savannah's attempt to fit the board game Clue into her luggage came to naught.

We have resorted to some more unusual ways to entertain ourselves, since we can't just turn on the TV and we don't have most of our usual alternatives.

A few things we have done in Sweden instead of watching TV:

Play ping pong
Stretch (aka "Family Stretching Time")
Headspace
Make chokladbollar
Watch movies (laptop or iPad)
Read
Play cards
Play pick-up sticks
Entertain a cat
Try (and fail) to put together a 1,000 piece puzzle

Not willing to get rid of our TV at home, just realizing it's not really all that important to me.

Nordby Shopping Day

Like most Americans, we can only last for so long without going to the mall. Yesterday, we decided to check out our local mall: Nordby Shopping Center.

Since it is located on the edge of town, it took us two bus rides to get there. We left the house at 7:45am, ate breakfast in Strömstad, and made it to the mall just as it was opening at 10am.

International symbol for "I need to pee"?

In many ways, it was just like an American shopping mall: big free parking outside, a McDonald's in the parking lot, a variety of shops inside, a food court, and a kid's play area.

But there were lots of fun differences.

Who knows what strange things you might find?!

First, we noticed mostly Norwegian license plates on the parked cars. We're close to the border with Norway, where food and alcohol are more expensive, so this is a popular place for Norwegians to stock up. There were shopping carts in the parking lot for people to push their stacks of sodas and kilos of candy around the mall.

They had these instead of escalators,
so you can bring your shopping cart upstairs.

Our first stop felt like a cross between a Walmart and IKEA. It had everything, like a Walmart, but was more stylish and Swedish, like an IKEA. The prices were crazy cheap. We almost bought a $10 Swedish waffle maker.

Next stop was like a Swedish version of Costco. It was very much like our local grocery store, only with vastly larger quantities and choices. The pallets of sodas, piles of pastries, and aisles reaching up to the ceiling reminded me of extreme shopping at home. This is all for the Norwegians, who buy in bulk and cross back over the border with their bounty.

The kids play area was called Djungelland (Jungle Land). We had a fun time purposely mispronouncing it, "Don't get lost in De JungleLand!" It looked like Funbelievable from back home: a massive, indoor playspace with slides, climbing structures, and places for parents to sit and chill. I snapped pictures of all the signs and rules, to try to decipher later, so we might try it out on future trip.

The most shockingly different thing was the number and size of the candy stores. At home, a typical mall might have one little candy store. Or maybe a free-standing cart, with bins where kids can choose some bulk candy.

So. Much. Candy.

This mall had three massive candy stores. Each one larger than anything I've ever seen at home. The largest one was so big, it was hard to wrap my head around it.

We found the Swedish Swedish Fish. They're called Strawberry Fish.

Here's the kind the Swedes like: Licorice Fish.  Ew.

And it wasn't just for kids. Mostly, it was adults filling up bags and bags of candy. The largest store had six double-sided rows of bulk candy. You fill up a bag and pay by weight, about a $4 per pound.

Think they were excited about this?

In addition to the bulk candy bins, the outer edges of the store were lined with every type of bagged and boxed candy you can imagine.

Enough Haribo to last you through the apocalypse.

This, again, is mostly for the Norwegians, who come here to buy candy cheaper than they could get it in Norway. That explains why there's so many stores and why they're so gigantic.

The never-ending candy!

It doesn't explain why they eat so much candy! Apparently, Swedes eat the most candy in the world. They even have a special tradition on Saturdays called Lördagsgodis (literally 'Saturday's Candies') where you go to the candy store, buy a bunch of candy, and eat it.

I found at least 3 different types of mushroom candy.

We have noticed that there is more candy in the grocery stores than we are used to (a whole aisle just for chocolate bars!) and every store seems to have a bulk candy section. But this took it to a whole new level.

We were all exhausted after our mega-shopping day. And of course, we brought home a waffle iron.

It makes heart-shaped waffles. Because Sweden.

They are adorable AND delicious.

We're gearing up for our new favorite holiday: Waffle Day!

Tjärnö Skola

Today, the girls and I visited our neighborhood school.

Photo from stromstadstidning.se

School here begins at 7:45am, earlier than is typical for Swedish schools, because it's based on the local bus schedule. Kids arrive and leave their shoes and coats in a large entryway. Everyone wore socks inside, except the teachers who wore sensible, indoor shoes (not winter boots).

The school here only has three classrooms, since it serves a very small community. One class is a preschool, with at least 3 teachers. The kids in the preschool class range in age from toddler (youngest was just 1.5 years old) to 6 years old. Preschool is free for kids starting at age 3, for up to 15 hours per week. For full day preschool, families pay about 1000 kronor a month (about $100).

Part of the preschool room.

At age 6, Swedish kids begin a regular class, which is similar to our Kindergarten. The teachers at Tjärnö Skola said that it's common in Sweden for kids in this class to move back and forth between the 1-5 year old class and the 6-year-old class, when they need more play.

More of the preschool space.

Another view of the preschool space.

Kids are not required to attend school in Sweden until age 7. Their 1st grade is for 7-year-olds (who would be starting 2nd grade in the US). The girls were a bit distressed to know that in Sweden, they'd only be in 2nd and 4th grade.

The younger kids' classroom (ages 7-9).

Because Tjärnö Skola is so small, the 6-year-olds stay in the Preschool with the 1-5 year olds. There were only a handful of kids in the preschool. The next class was for 7, 8, and 9 year olds and had about 10 students. And the final class had 10, 11, and 12 year olds and also had about 10 kids.

Teacher's desk

The oldest kids here are in 6th grade; they'd be 7th graders in the States. Next year, these kids will attend the local middle school, where they'll stay for for three years. Finally, they go to a three-year high school program, serving ages 16-19.

Older kids at their desks.

Chelsea and Savannah with one of the teachers

The older kids' weekly schedule interested me the most. Hour-long blocks of instruction, followed by at least 15 minutes of break. The subjects included Swedish, English (2 hours per week), Math, Science (which includes tech), and Social Studies (which includes geography and religion), and PE (Sports and Health, 2 hours per week).

Weekly schedule for the older class.
NO = Science, SO = Social Studies

At break time, the kids 7 and up all went outside to play. The preschool kept a different schedule. The playground isn't big and has very little to play on: some blacktop with a couple of hopscotch patterns, one basketball hoop, some rocks that the kids climbed on. The kids from both the classes all played games together. They tried to teach my girls a Swedish version of hide and seek, but we couldn't quite understand how it worked. The teachers take turns supervising them.

Outside view of the school.

The older kids also go into town to the middle school one morning each week for music, crafts, and cooking class. They take the bus into town on their own and come back to school around midday. All of the students swim at the local pool at least once a week.

At the back of the younger kids' room.

Our visit caused a bit of disruption. The kids were excited, and the classes were off their usual routines. It was interesting that even in a foreign country it was easy for me to spot which kids kept the teacher on her toes, which ones were the quiet types, and which were the teacher's pets.

Giant relief map of Europe.

After we toured the school and talked with the younger class, we did a conversation activity with both classes together. As usual here, almost everyone's English vastly outpaced our limited Swedish. The oldest kids had the best command of English grammar and vocabulary. There were two sisters who are recent immigrants from Eritrea, so they were still working on learning Swedish.

Discussion topics on the board.

The school has a tiny and adorable cafeteria. At snack time, the lunch lady put out a bowl of sliced melon, which the kids helped themselves to as they went out to play. At 11:15, all the kids 7 and above and their teachers went to the little cafeteria for lunch. Today's lunch was a root vegetable soup, served with bread, butter, cheese, yogurt, and some Swedish salads. After lunch, they had a break again until noon.

Savannah's first school cafeteria lunch!

We left at midday and took the bus into town. A teacher asked me to make sure that one of the 7-year-olds made it onto the bus. All of the kids get out at noon on Friday, and the youngest kids leave school at noon several days a week. We waited outside with him and sat with him on the bus. It was about 15 minutes to his stop. He spoke very little English. We had him teach us some basic Swedish: numbers 1-10, items of clothing, some body parts. We all cracked up at his attempts to teach us the Swedish word for "seven" and our failed attempts to pronounce it properly.

This is the school that the girls would attend, if they were going to school here. After visiting, I have mixed feelings about choosing not to send them. Since it's so small, it would probably be a very easy transition for them and they'd get lots of attention. It would be nice for them to be with other kids, go swimming, take music and cooking class, play outside, and do all the things that school kids do. The teachers invited us to come back, so perhaps we can have a bit of both worlds.

How to Wash your Pusheen

When you eat too much dinner and barf on your Pusheen in the night, obviously you would not consider throwing your Pusheen away. You need to wash your Pusheen.

This is Pusheen.
Photo from retrostyler.com

When you google "how to wash a stuffed animal" you will find out that you should put it in the laundry on the delicate cycle. However, you may not know which cycle on your washer IS the delicate cycle.

I don't even know which one of these is the regular cycle.
I just push buttons until it starts.

In this case, you can wash your Pusheen by hand! In a few simple steps!

Step 1: Soak your Pusheen. Use clean, cold water. Preferably from a well. In Sweden.

Step 2: Scrub your Pusheen. Use a mild detergent.

I think this is mild detergent, because the bottle is small?
And google translator says one of the words is "fragile"? 

Step 3: Squeeze your Pusheen.

Step 4: REALLY SQUEEZE YOUR PUSHEEN!

Step 5: Rinse your Pusheen. If the water is cold enough to numb your fingers, you're doing it right.

Step 6: Hang your Pusheen in the sun to drip dry. Set your Pusheen in your shower to drip dry.

If you are unable to sleep, because Pusheen is not available, you might like to try Hateen.

Meet Hateen! Like Pusheen, only made of a hat!

Hateen is made by stuffing your mom's softest hat with your mom's softest shirt. You can snuggle this at night while you wait for your Pusheen to dry.

Adapted from this instructables post.