Another Trip to Oldtown

The tourists flock to Oldtown, probably because it is the only place in which you can both purchase Reese's Pieces and take in a 13th century church in the space of five minutes. I felt slightly out of place as I ambled down the bright street, as I wasn't playing the part of a tourist, nor am I yet a local. So, I dodged out of the way of camera flashes and smiled at exclamations of the amazingly beautiful architecture. The street teems with languages, here French, there German, and always a few words here and there in a language I couldn't place. No doubt there were many Estonian tourists there, as both countries seems to exchange hostages at a furious rate.

My true delight, however, sprung not only from that fact that I was on my way to collect the new Hobb, but at the snatches of English that I overheard along the way. There are many American tourists, of course, mostly older couples who walk wary and always hold hands, but whom are quick to smile and point out little oddities in the street. I fancy I even heard a family of Australians, and although there is nothing in the least melodic or enchanting about our accent (despite what Rian may think) the very sound of a few words here and there made me grin like a maniac. It was the sound of home, or at the very least, a reminder of everything that waits for me back home. I've been here four months, at least, and have had only a handful of conversations with Australians, certainly none outside those between myself and family or friends.

I've been in Sweden too long to approach random strangers. Where I could have seized upon something as trivial as a shared football team before and made casual conversation in the street or upon a tram, I now smile to myself and blush a little at the thought of being so brazen. I don't imaging that any Australian far from home would mind me talking to them, but still, I can't work up the courage.

I've turned piss weak, obviously.

Still, I feel as if I could haunt Oldtown and all of its visitors just for the colour, the beautiful buildings, the bookstore and the lingering snatches of English conversation.

And, of course, the Reese's Pieces.

The podcast containing a reading from the new Hobb can be found here.