(with google translate)

Quick decisions are good decisions. Anders and I decided on two red so as not to wait for clearance from various airlines, we rented a moderately tuned Opel Corsa.

We tried to entice us with the juniors, there is not no luck. Saving or cowardly? You choose.

Would have been fun with a miniature of the Gumball race through Europe where only two people could fit in each car. Once you have taken the decision to go so you just want to go.

Quickly back to the hotel to pack with lightning speed. Anders, who was the hottest yelled at me when he left the elevator – I finished in five minutes.
I took in all cases the time to write a bit in the blog that we were on the road.

Erik who deep down is a nice guy just wanted to be just so nice there. Erik knows everything, he knows everything, he has also experienced all (by his own admission). He had, of course, through bi Germany a number of times apparently. Eric volunteered to go down on the hotel’s Office Center and create an itinerary for us on the internet that he would print out on paper. Neither I nor Anders had at all been sitting behind a steering wheel in Germany and was therefore very grateful for Eric’s help.

The car was packed and ready in 30 mkinuter. Eric came up with eight A-4 pages packed with road information, his journey began. After less than 50 feet, I asked Anders if he had brought his passport, we got cross rivet and Anders had to run back to the hotel to retrieve it, he forgot. Good start … ..
I pressed the plate in the bottom directly. After a few hundred meters “says Anders, now gas thereon. I kept on pressing his foot through the floor, Corsan gave everything it had. We looked at each other, we looked at the speedometer, we looked at each other again. Then we screamed … Mätarn stood at 98, it was up to!! With hindsight, apparently so has rental cars who places a restriction on you Gas up for a long while. The restrictions are now a distant memory, I can tell.

We sailed towards Genoa and on to Milan. Overall the trip would be around 240 mil. The so-called map was not optimal, we observed already in Milan. We wandered around town some hours before we finally were on the road to Como. When we approached Como, we would run against the Swiss, we approached the border by leaps and bounds.

Suddenly, we were lost, What a fucking shit map! Not a name or street tuned, we wandered around in something that can be likened to an industrial area. Suddenly, in the midst of the darkest and abandoned houses popped up a beauty in leather mini skirt and white leather boots. Wow! We could not stop laughing, a whore in the middle of nowhere. We drove a bit further while we happily discussed her choice of districts. We were now even further away from inhabited areas and decided to turn back. Pitch Black, not a street lamp is not a living soul.

I slow down to make a U-turn, Anders is fun, huh says – you can not stop, here there’s no hooker! Just when the car stopped suddenly, the one girl out of some bushes and shit seems happy that we stayed at. How Shit, she can stand out here? What customers come here? Who will find her without headlight??? Polite as we are so we thought to let the poor fellow girls come in for a while in the car’s heat … But our morale was high and homesick too much, we left the little paragraph of scantily clad in a cloud of dust with tires screaming …

In Lugano and the Alps over the San Bernadino. Which means, what altitudes. It was so steep that we drove up on the 2nd and maxed for sixty jerk. Was lucky enough to evening darkness has settled so that we saw descended at the roadside where only a curb protected us from the ravine, we both were made afraid of heights.

On top of the snow left and it was below freezing. A little difference of the more than 20 plus we left behind us in Nice. We took a little break (kiss) before we began a dangerous descent.

Then it was time to visit Austria. Except a short when even this probably is a shit country. We are now the biggest shit of all the country, Germany. We had set itself the goal to catch 100 mil during day 1. I drove and felt tolerable spike all the time so we are tougher on.

Now began to hell. Map bastard was not good. We were searching and searching and, finally, we found, always at the last minute. We talked about buying a map at any gas station, we forgot about it every time we filled up. Now did not do as much as we did Eric’s directions slavishly. At the same time so did the map all the time once we found rätt.hehehe

The call was from Nice, where juniors cheer cheered at the airport would open on Monday. Hahahaha, let it. We told you that you took the car in vain … Those who know me know I is not stubborn or think prestige is important, but we will not fly now Shit, we have to drive home.

With hindsight we did right, no airports were opened, no planes went. Såååjaaaaa. Anders and I had a new cheer chant we sang in the car when it looked as bright for the flying public. Ash Ash Ash, cheer cheer cheer … .. All of it would get dark again and our car would prove to be correct.

Smågrabbarna is, after all, now on his way home. They have been in the chair opposite a bus filled with a lot of Danish pack. Sounds like a cheap and good option … NOT … Let now the bus’s AC fail and break down the toilet. Hopefully, the Danes really packed as well …. Let this be a lesson for life, let this be a real devil trip for the little creatures …

Germany may va a really crap country, but good considering they have in all cases. Mil after mil was harvested, when we decided to stay, I had driven 141 mil. We found a hotel in Potsdam, where we brought some excitement when we checked in 06:45. Still more questions were on the old lady at the counter when we wanted to check out 13:00 …

We wanted to have time to run up to Puttgarden, take the ferry to Denmark and Sweden into the skin before 19:00. I wanted to hear kill AIK in Allsvenskan Kalmar, Anders wanted to listen to the DIF get sryk of HV71 in Finalserien.

We each sign we passed that line with our pathetic map so we did the High Five in the car. It was a hell of a lot high five …

Puttgarden approached and we sat and calculated over time. Sååjaaa, we could make it in time to Sweden … Sports Radio all the way from Malmö, the cannon.

When we approached Puttgarden so it seemed a bit strange. Not a ferry sign, not a sign at all actually. I swung into a gas station and asked for directions while Anders went to the bathroom. Nein nein nein, was the response. Locator could obviously not English.

Old Lady went away and downloaded the map where we should be bought for 100 mil then. She walked around the counter when it was apparently too small, she ruled the steps toward a huge freezer cabinet. She folded up the map and pointed at the top right corner. Here here, caw, and she points to the floor, we were there, so much I understood.

Now she begins to unfold the map bastard, page by page. I now understand why she chose this huge freezer cabinet. Old Lady turned up two meters Map!
When she was finished she pointed at the top in the left corner – Puttgarden – Puttgarden !!??? Faaaan Va., can not be true! We were on a headland on the top left, would be another bloody tip of the upper right. Just one hell of a lot of water in between that you have to run around. We were just over 50 mil wrong! TILT

Can not be true, as we followed slavishly Erik’s map. Although we have been wrong a few times every time we had found the right to end … TILT TILT TILT

Tifically upset pushes me away locator and look at the map. We would Puttgarden, as we have known all along. How can we fall into hell so wrong? Hmmm, found a small village at the tip of the cape where we are called Putgarten! Eric you fucking illiterate! If you are in its own words crossed the whole fucking Europe can not even spell! Damn … the TILT.

Football and hockey were just forget. The courage sank faster than the sex drive of a stripper when the Terrible Turk unbuttoning his shirt. Now it was not fun anymore …

Well, what had I expected after this nötresa? Nötflyg, nörhyrbil, nöthotell, nötsäng and nötpoker. It was all to hell and I should have foreseen this when spaghetti brat met a enoutare against me in the main event.
 
Just to break up and come again. After some calls, so we found a ferry from Rostock to go within two hours. We had little time and after 15 mil in Denmark so we crossed the Swedish border at 01:00.

Now I sit and write this next to Anders, who took over the wheel of Malmo. I see the end of this journey, just a few hours left. What I still marvel over most of this drive is actually the one where surkärringen sitting at the airport every time I get home. She sits in the passport control and should always check the passport when to enter Sweden.
She does everything on purpose for a long time, and trying to get her job to present itself as extremely important. Fucking bitch ….

Okay to have security checks and checking bags and packaging. Saying that you should be cautious when gunpowder Tallibanerna think is fun. But what fills surkärringen for the task? The plane has already landed, no bomb has gone off, we should go home.

Now we have been in seven countries in two days, at no time have we been stopped in any duty. At no time have I had to show identity papers. I have hardly seen any staff at the borders at all. We could have had with seven and four negroes and Tallibaner in the car without anyone noticing it. Cheaper than air, it had also been …

Now I see the end of this shit go. corsan has performed well. I did not think you could push up the little fella to 195 without the screaming.

NOW is the job at home and finputs on the boat before it wears off to Bulgaria and Unibet Open on June 4 to 6. View now to qualify so I bid on a beer in the sun lounger on the beach …

Write these last lines lying in bed. Now is finally home.

(Let now just where the bus get a really DIFFICULT journey home. I need it, I really need it. Erik must have no criminal. Especially as he was during our trip scorned us via SMS. The fact that Jimmy is suffering as a third person is not care. What had he expected when he travels with Mr. Jinx. Right at them with the Danes, who are sitting happy in his heart and is completely unaware.)

Anders, thanks for a good journey home. There’s no place like home.

/// Micke