Where the hell is my towel?

In a shameless emulation of another far less bewildered traveller, I give you the highly accurate account of my year in Uppsala, Sweden. Like the great man says, persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; those attempting to find a plot in it will be banished; those attempting to find a moral in it will be shot.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Useful advice

Got the following email from the Swedish Migration Board the other day:

Subject line: 10492496

Tillståndsenheten i Norrköping
Kent Sjöholm

2006-07-24

Beteckning
10492496

Your guess is as good as mine here. I choose to believe the date indicates when the people of Sweden have at last decided to give me complete unilateral control over every aspect of their country. I see no evidence to the contrary.

Emailed my contact, (whose name is Bob Beronius) and asked him some fairly urgent questions about where I go on arrival, how I get five kilometers across the city to my dorm at midnight, and so forth. Got the following response:

Thank you for your mail. I'm on holiday but
will reply your mail as soon as possible
after my return on August 7.

Thanks, Bob!

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