Swedetalker

The journal of language rookie Patrick Reilly

Day 24 – Call The Police!

I’d like to report a crime. It occurred this morning in central Malmö. The offence – butchering the Swedish language.  Victim remains in shock. Perpetrator currently at large.

Now before you alert the authorities I am kidding. As always. Leaving lovely ‘Malmuh’ this morning I encountered another example of bizarre Swedish bureaucracy swiftly followed by some generosity. A brainwave to introduce a London oyster card system on the local buses has been a hit BUT for some reason at certain parts of the day you can’t pay for a regular fare with cash. Beats me. Rushing to catch an early flight I was denied access to the bus as I didn’t have said card with credit and was forced to plead my case in svenska to the hapless driver who clearly didn’t speak a word of English. Whether it was because he understood me or felt sorry for my plight he told me to sit down and ride the bus for free :)

On the flight the dramas didn’t end as some lady had managed to worm her way onto the plane using a day old ticket before it was discovered and promptly flung off. In fairness it seemed like an honest mistake but a pretty shocking lapse of security nonetheless. Anyway, this gave me the time to listen to some annoying Danish teenagers sitting in front of me. God I am a whine today. At first I couldn’t discern the difference between Swedish and Danish but now I can identify those bacon munchers at the drop of a hat.

Cows + Eating + Potatoes = Danish. At least the irritating teenage version. My cruel Swedish friends kindly pointed out that Danish people sound like they have potatoes in their mouth when speaking. Harsh but I’m starting to think they are right. I can’t understand a word and this particular teenager had an accent so hideous I considered smacking him in the back of the head more than once. It was all mooooo and goooo. I’m getting angry just thinking about it. Better stop then. Check out this clip for an idea of what I’m on about.

Now back in an English speaking land for a few days I encountered some Swedes outside Marks & Spencer earlier. Hearing the language seems natural now and was a pleasant contrast to the ‘Am I bovvered’ row I overheard moments before. Think I’m already starting to miss Sweden…

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