wait, where are my tickets?

  The title of this post is the essence of a question you never, ever want to be asking yourself. Especially when your tickets are, in fact,  locked into someone else´s apartment, and that someone happens to be a) 80 kilometers away, b) in a boat and c) have dropped his phone in a river. For about 3,5 hours, my life was the definition of uh-oh. Especially when the landlord was at his cabin, and the landlord´s brother is a late-night taxi driver. And, naturally, the entire incident occurred late at night, on a bike, in a t-shirt and shorts. 100 miles above the arctic circle. 

  Luckily, things like this have a way of working themselves out, and at approximately 00.25, that late-night taxi driver came innocently driving by, doing his job, and noticed a strange foreign girl sitting in his lawn. At the exact same time, Tredvin came back from the boat trip, dried out his phone, and answered when I called. Everything solved itself, in the nick of time. 

  I´m packed, my food is sitting ready in the refrigerator, my batteries are charged, and my tickets are safe at last. 

 Hovefestivalen 2009, here we come!

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