I know that I shouldn’t giggle as the whole bird flu crisis is not a laughing matter, but I have to confess that when I saw on tonight’s news that a parrot had died in British quarantine, my first thought was “Is it a Norwegian Blue?”

I can just imagine the conversation when the bird was discovered:

Owner: “This parrot is dead”
Quarantine Inspector: “No it isn’t dead. It’s just resting. It’s tired and shagged out after a long squawk. Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue. Beautiful plumage....”

For those not fortunate enough to be brought up on a steady diet of British humour, this is part of the exchange from the wonderful Monty Python Dead Parrot Sketch. Priceless! So yes, I did laugh and check the calendar in case it was April 1st.

The whole bird flu scare is gaining momentum over here as more and more countries in Europe are turning up infected birds. We had a scare in Sweden today when some dead ducks were discovered in a river in central Sweden, but it turned out not to be the aggressive strain of the disease. The country is on high alert, though I suspect that the real crisis will occur in the spring as birds who have sensibly fled the approaching Swedish winter chill, make their return journey. Meanwhile, I’ve instructed my cockatiels Bruce and Sheila that they are not to consort with any wild birds. Not that it has stopped Lambi mixing with the local crows.



The glorious autumn weather that we have experienced over the last few weeks has been replaced by the more usual clouds, rain and icy winds. I guess it was too good to last. Yesterday when the barometer did a spectacular nose dive from 1035 to 990 in a short space of time, Lars-Göran went out and added more ropes to the boat for security. The weather forecast was for bleak conditions, with high, strong north winds and constant rain, even a possibility of snow (secret happy dance). But nothing really spectacular happened, though who would have know as we sat having breakfast on board in our warm, cosy salon.



My recent post about the Girls Night Out provoked some debate on the message board at AA about making friends among fellow Australians in a foreign country, with several people declaring that despite their efforts, they remain friendless after several years in their new country.

I wonder sometimes why my experience has been so different. I do have a number of Australians here as friends, but not as many as one might suppose. My feeling is that if you wouldn't have been friends with someone in Australia, why should simply sharing a nationality in Sweden make you more likely to be friends here? The thought of being thrown together on the basis of our nationality is a bit scary.

When I first moved here I did not even think about meeting other Australians. I was busy setting up my life and basically didn’t even wonder if there were others like me living in Sweden. I would say to Swedish friends who asked that if I had wanted to mix with Australians, I would have stayed in Australia. I was fortunate in that I did have the company of a lovely Adelaide couple who had been transferred to Stockholm for three years. We became close friends and are still in contact with them, even though they have now returned home. Their friendship was exactly what I needed and I was very content. Lars-Göran really liked their warmth, openness and humour and I think it was an important relationship as it gave him more insight into me and into Australians in general as he had never met anyone from Down Under before.

About eighteenth months into my stay, I suddenly became curious and did some research, finding the Australians Abroad website (which was an absolute godsend to me) as well as a group of Australians living in Stockholm - The Southern Cross Club. I made some great friends at AA and discovered that it was so good to have a support system of people who were in the same situation as me (albeit in other countries). We were all going through the process of learning a new language, adapting to a new culture and way of life, trying to find our way around in a foreign country, trying to find work in our field of expertise and living in a relationship with a partner from another culture. It made me feel less isolated and of course it was a relief to be to free speak my language with people who didn’t need me to explain cultural references and who shared my warped, rather black sense of humour.

From that I ventured out into joining in some of the events put on by the Australians in Stockholm and to actively helping out newcomers to Sweden. While I have several good expat friends here from Canada, England, South Africa and the US, I do find that it is the company of Australians that I most enjoy. It is music to my ears to hear that familiar accent because I know that at least with other Aussies we will have something in common and we understand certain things about each other. I don't have to listen to the “Oh my God, I love your accent. Can you say “heaps” for me. I just love the way you Aussies say “heaps” ” remarks (rolls eyes) nor answer all the dumb Australia questions and I can get up to date with what's happening in Australia and listen to people's stories about their travels etc.

However, I am quite selective and while I like to meet other expats, if we don't click then I am not that fussed anymore. One scary woman I met (not Australian I hasten to add) can’t seem to bear any solitude in her life. She frantically telephoned, emailed, SMSed me in an attempt to fill her calendar with dinners, fikas, cocktail parties, lunches, excursions to the city, summer get togethers as though she was panicked at the thought of the possibility of spending a quiet weekend home with her partner. Despite her activity, her illusion of being at the pulse of life here, she exudes an unmistakable air of loneliness and I always feel the urge to flee from her and her "good intentions" with stammered apologies, despite the fact that she feels hurt and resentful that I don’t go along with her efforts and confirm a gratitude to her that I simply don’t feel.

I guess I really don't care to spend hours on the telephone every single day, talking over things. I don't even need to meet up with people every week for coffee or whatever. But at certain times, I really do appreciate getting together like we did the other night for a huge gab fest, chatting away for hours about familiar things with a group of smart, independent and positive women. People who take Sweden for what it is, deal as well as they can with it and simply get on with making a life instead of living with one foot in “back home”.