Some of the Aussies that remain, and a few of the American med students that are up from Tel Aviv, decided to go out the Stureplan. I tagged along. It was ridiculous. Sweden parties hard from Wednesday to Sunday and clubs are banging out dance music well into the wee hours.
Now I hate clubs but this was more of a bar that played House music mixed with 90’s R&B and a fair share of classic American hits. So if nothing else it was a karaoke jamboree. Swedes love to audience participate when they dance so it kinda reminded me of Gator City and XS in Gainesville, Florida. Bar with club element.
But, yeah, Stockholm is fucking expensive on the entertainment tip. 60 SEK for a Heineken. That’s raping people without even kissing them.
However, the eye candy in this club — Soap Bar — was worth the shitty beer pricing.
The Aussies got royally pissed drunk and were just hooking up with everybody. Me? Not so much. I was trying to remain in control and actually remember how to get back to the hotel. 4 am rolls around, and everybody is smacked out. I’m the most coherent but we all realize very quickly that we don’t have enough money on the cab fare. Not to mention that our party basically tripled in the bar.
My cash is at the hostel and it’s in USD. I only have 40 SEK on me — along with some coins. But I realize where I am, because I walked this road on the way in from the docks. I say to the group that I can navigate us back to the hostel and that it wouldn’t be more than 15 minutes of walking.
Well, it would have been 15 minutes…