TRAVEL: Stockholm, The Fungs and the Garden of Death

The Fungs and me

Friday 16th March

A stye is an infection of the sebaceous glans of the zeis, or an infection of the apocrine sweat glans of the moll. Similar to chalazia, they tend to be smaller in size but more painful. Simply put, a stye is a zit with an attitude that sits deep within the eyelid. A tortuous cyst of boiled satanic brew sealed in its own encrusted fester. Such a beast formed in the lead-up to my Stockholm trip and had fully unleashed itself to the world on the day of our departure. I'm not sure how I picked it up. I thought maybe I had got it from Bex who constantly has the mingingitis. This isn't her own fault by any means, as she hasn't been able to develop an immunity against the mingingitis carrier she lives with, being Kelley. Contagion issues aside, I was now fully diseased, figuratively diminished, and equally concerned as I would be journeying on this trip with The Fungs.

The Fungs are funny creatures and hard to categorise. They are plucky, quite impulsive, less agile of mind but particularly sensory. Alone they are fairly ordinary, inconspicuous in a crowd. Grouped in a pack of three (the Marcus, the Inge & the Candice), they become a different organism entirely. Their powers fuse and combine to create something relentless to the average human being. Being above average in most faculties I am usually able to absorb this, but in my weakened state, I was exposed and folly to all unleashings, and the Fungs are forever unleashing.

This little Fungy went to market, this little Fungy stayed home...

"Oh my god!" the Candice Fung said as she first saw me and my stye on the platform. "That's fucken disgusting. Get me a bucket so I can vomit! I need to fucken vomit!". The Inge Fung fed off this lead at her first sight. "That's the biggest zit I have ever seen! Oh my god! I just look at your face and see a zit. That's all I see. Ahahaha."... That's how the Inge Fung laughs... always with an 'A' in front of the 'hahaha'. Other women that have shared this trait in the past include Margaret Thatcher, Queen 'Bloody' Mary I and the Wicked Witch. The Marcus Fung is the most docile of all the Fungs and didn't really have a reaction, but when this happens the other Fungs take the passive energy from the other and convert it for themselves. "Don't touch it!" the Candice Fung kept saying. "Don't touch it or it might explode and the world will end!". Thankfully, I only had 45 minutes on the Stansted Express to endure this verbal barrage as we arrived at the airport to take our flight.

The flight to Stockholm is about 2 hours which is pretty standard, but on top of that there is the bus trip from the airport to Stockholm which is another 90 minutes. This should always be factored, as in any weekend trip, minutes let alone hours, are precious. We arrived at our apartment around midnight that Friday, picked up some food for the Fungs (a hotdog for me that burnt my mouth), and then pretty much went straight to bed. The Fungs were especially tired having used all their energy to poke fun at the stye in my eye, and I was exhausted having been at the receiving end of it. As I lay in bed, I prayed the weep trickling down my cheeks would cleanse my eyes of this terrible affliction.

Saturday 17th March

As I woke with half my face throbbing in pain, I knew my prayers had not been answered. Wasn't surprised as I'm still on god's black list for fighting Jesus, but I was hoping at the very least my stye would've naturally subsided. Quite the contrary it had metastasized overnight, rather tremendously. It was even more bloody hideous than before. I've never been so disgusted by my own reflection. The only saving grace was The Fungs had got over their excitement for it. The Fung has a comparatively short attention span. They see something, surround it for a quick joyous fix, and move on. Such was the case with my stye, which at least allowed me focus on the adventures ahead.

As soon as we stepped outside I could feel an immediate chill. My previous trip was to Prague in -15C so I thought the balmy 0C of Stockholm would be fine. Thinking of others, I made the Candice Fung go inside and get an extra layer for the day ahead. I was so concerned for her I forgot to consider my own well-being. 30 minutes into our walk, I was completely frozen and shivering. Now most people, having received such tenderness from another human being would generally return the favour and offer some comfort with say an extra pair of gloves or body warmth. The Fung does not operate in this manner, and instead finds such predicaments amusing. 'Ahahaha, you look so cold Yohei, Ahahaha, lets take a photo of how cold Yohei looks'. Truth be told I expected nothing more or less so weathered it as we headed into the city.

Two toasty Fungs and a cold Guy

Our first stop were some old buildings. I can't quite remember what they were. I was somewhat distracted by my own fight for survival against the elements. They must have been of some significance as there were Royal Guards stationed at posts. The Fungs did not rate these guards. They thought they were shoddy marchers and undisciplined, smiling and cavorting with the tourists. They did seem rather casual, unlike our Palace Cavalry in London, trained not to blink or breathe. We contemplated staying for the changing of the guard, but it had been nearly an hour since the last food stop, so it was time for a snack.

The Fung loves nothing more than to eat. All else is secondary. In a competition of Fung pleasurable delights it would be an all food final. The Fungs first thought when they see anything is 'Can I eat it?'. For the uninitiated this can be quite an experience. A group of three Fungs can devastate an entire Roast Duck in 6 minutes, before fighting over the carcass. Thus, much of what takes place in time spent with the Fungs, revolves around eating. The cafe we happened upon was cosy and nice. To be honest, I was just happy to be out of the cold. The Fungs were happy because they would get to try the famous Swedish Chocolate Cake. Doing some post-trip research, I believe this was the Kladdkaka, a chocolate sticky delight with a sprinkling of icing sugar. I shared one myself and thought it was absolutely delicious, but the Inge Fung was confused. The cake is made with an especially gooey centre, slightly unorthodox and unique to what one might expect in a regular cake. She thought it was some sort of mistake, and that the baker had forgot to bake it. I tried persuading her it was as it should be, but she stared at it with contempt, unconvinced. The Fung has very specific understandings and expectations for certain things, foods especially. Boxes must be checked and conditions met. Gooey centres do not adhere to any convention of cake for the Fung. They ate them because they were edible of course, but I could see they were not satisfied. Stockholm was off to a shakey start.

Is that a smile lieutenant?

Finishing our cakes, we were off for more trekking. Stockholm isn't exactly screaming with attractions. We didn't really do that much research to be fair, but at the same time, if you stand in the middle of the city centre, there's nothing that particularly draws you in one direction or another. Just a swamp of retail. The Stockholm Town Hall was apparently worth a look, so we followed a map to see if it actually was. We were not disappointed. Standing grand before the water, it was a monumental structure that seemed like an architectural cross between a cathedral and a mosque. What's more, it was made entirely of bricks. I played a game with the Candice Fung, asking her how many bricks she thought the hall was made out of. The Fung enjoys a good game, and the more trivial the better. The Candice Fung beamed a big smile and thought of an answer in quick-fast fashion. We were now standing right in front of the 106m tall fortress, in prime position for an approximate guestimation. '168,000 bricks!' she exclaimed. Her answer encapsulated beautifully, my adoration for the Fung. Their most endearing feature is their child-like innocence. Interacting with one, is like going through a journey back in time, almost as far back as preschool. It's the linear terms in which one can track their thoughts that is so gratifying. Put on the spot, she knew the number of bricks was many, and thought of the biggest number she could think of at the time. This number was 168,000. For me, it wasn't just the enthusiasm in which she volunteered her answer, but the pride coupled once delivered. The breadth of her smile mimicked that of a young child having just completed a jigsaw puzzle. As it happens she was 7.9 million bricks ashy. Some might ordinarily be embarrassed, but the Fung to their credit are particularly good sports, and take as much delight in a loss as in a win, so she laughed the humiliation away. The building itself as the brick tally suggests, was impressive. The inside was supposed to be particularly stunning and they ran tours, but that involved spending money (something the Fungs and myself avoid) plus we had found another tour nearby for free.

How many bricks Candice?...

The free tour was actually for the Swedish Houses of Parliament. In all my years, I had never been through a tour of a nation's houses of parliament. It was pretty cool. We got to sit in the debating chambers, old and new, as well as have a general look around in the little meeting rooms. It was also good for the postcard view you got from the upper level overlooking the city.

The confused look of Inge is because we told her we were going into a bakery... only way we could get her in.

Fast approaching sunset, Marcus insisted our next stop be the famous Rosendal Gardens he had read about. The Marcus Fung had recently turned 30 and with it his interests had notably changed. Not only was he now interested in gardens, he had also taken up bread baking. Wanting to be supportive of his transitioning, we decided to humour him and go in that direction. He insisted it would be 'the most beautiful garden we had ever seen, teeming with life and tranquility.' Wasn't however the easiest place to get to. The main line that went there was closed, so we had to find an alternate route which took a bit of doing. We eventually found the right tram, and were on our way. We probably should've been suspicious when the conductor didn't clip our tickets once we told him where we were heading. We also should've been suspicious that there didn't seem to be many people heading towards the same destination that we were heading. Suspicion isn't at the forefront of thinking for the Fung. I guess because it demands multi-layered strands of thought. See something, identify it and its motives, make a judgement. The Fung generally stops after step two before a final decision on whether to place it in its mouth or not. Battling rabid infection of the eye, I myself was in no position to see or sense anything untoward. It would be our undoing.

Rosendal Park... what's left of it. 

We stepped off the tram having arrived at our destination and meandered through the entry. Welcoming, isn't the first choice word I'd use to describe it. Garden of Death seemed a more appropriate handle. The place looked like a testing bed for Agent Orange, or a site of nuclear fallout. There was not a whisper of greenery to be seen. We had found the anti-life centre of the world. Even the Candice Fung and the Inge Fung were disillusioned and promptly declared it the worst place ever visited whilst on vacation (the Fung doesn't deal in half-measures). The Marcus Fung tried to save face but he was outgunned and outnumbered. It was an absolute complete fail.

The evening was now upon us and the Fungs needed feeding. The cake they had hoped for at the Garden of Death had not eventuated and they were starting to get grumpy. For dinner we were keen to find and try the world renowned Swedish Meatballs. Back in the city, we found a typical European restaurant/hall with meatballs on the menu and took a table. Verdict? It was one of the best meals abroad I have ever had. The meatballs were in this tasty brown sauce, accompanied by lingonberries which you wouldn't think would work, but does quite a treat. The Fungs also finished their meals and enjoyed them, making up for the disappointed of the unbaked cake earlier.

Mmm... Meal looks good too

We retreated back to the hotel where we took over the billiard room (the Fung is quite good at Pool) and then headed back to our room to have some drinks we had purchased in town. I mentioned earlier that the Fungs like to play their games, but they especially like drinking games. I had indulged them in previous engagements involving charades, poker and pictionary to name a few. This time however they wanted to play a different type of game. It was this bizarre, task based/slightly incestuous dare game that I found a little strange. I take a few liberties describing it as incestuous but that sits within my context, as opposed to the Fung context. The Fung doesn't mind rubbing cheeks, biting earlobes, sucking thumbs and making toe contact with family. There is some titillating taboo breaker that they get off on. They are an insulated breed, so it serves as some sort of deep release. If you suggested any of the above in the context of my family you wouldn't even hear the end of a sentence full of 'fark's and 'ranga's before my sister had your blood across the floor. Not so for the Fungs, as they happily pursued dares that would commit them to such situations. The Fungs also decided to use this game to target me with some physical challenges. I'm officially the toughest man they've ever known and there was a definite desire for them to put this to the test, in as unfair a fashion as they could imagine. The first such challenge involved me piggy-backing Inge and doing 3 squats. My initial assessment of this challenge was that it would be a cinch. The Inge Fung is mostly just bone and cackle so I didn't anticipate any problems. She jumped on and I steadied myself with relative ease. She was a few pork buns heavier than I was expecting, but I put that down to girls being able to conceal that sort of thing and that it was still well within my range. I took a breath, and lowered myself for the first squat. On my haunches, I immediately knew something was wrong. I suddenly felt like a thousand baby elephants had jumped on my back and were pulling me down. Legs shaking, I buckled under the pressure and fell backwards, taking the Inge Fung with me. At first I couldn't quite believe it. The Fungs instantly began rolling around with laughter like chimps at a variety show, but I was deeply troubled, trying my best to rationalise the happening. I quickly ascertained it was a phenomena I had not come across before. One that would in fact, lead to a revelation of other secrets. I called this phenomena 'the Dense Weight of the Fung'. Dense weight occurs when you take matter and compress it in on itself. The mass is still there, but it consumes a much smaller space. Lead used for radioactive shielding, is a good example of this. So is the Fung. It is how the Fung achieves a relatively small size in contrast the vast quantities of food it consumes. It also means they leave imprints on hard-set cement, and are impossible to piggy-back squat. Despite this science, I knew the Fungs would never let me live this down, so I ordered the Inge Fung on me back and found reserve strength to complete 2 full squats. It was a strain I nearly died from, but it had to be done. In the end it didn't matter to the Fungs as their plan to trick me had worked. I retired to sleep in shame. They in glee.

That is weird... The Fungs crossing the line.

Sunday 18th March

I woke up with my legs and thighs in absolute agony. When I sat up to get out of bed, I realised my knees were shot too. I was paying the price for lifting tonnage the previous night.

An afternoon flight out meant we were tight on time. We decided all we could fit in was one attraction, so we had to make it count. Thankfully we did, in our trip to the Vasa Museum. This was unlike anything I had seen before. The Vasa was a 17th century 64-gun warship that sank on its maiden voyage in 1628. In the early 1960s it was pulled up from the seabed and restored in a 20 year project, before a museum was erected around it. Walking in, it creates quite an amazing sight. The ship sits at its centre and is absolutely huge. Made with a capacity to house 500 passengers and crew, your neck cranes staring from the bottom of its hull to its top mast. I had no idea 400 year old ships came that big. I was trying to figure out how they managed it before coming across a caption explaining it all. 'Made with Japanese Oak.'. Everything about the Museum was interesting. The history of the Vasa, how it was doomed, its salvage and restoration, all bloody fascinating. They even had the old bones of the dead crew on display! The Fungs I don't think appreciated it as much as me. For one, they aren't readers and don't care for sentences without food related nouns, and verbs of feasting. I also think they wanted to board the restored ship and play pirates, which was obviously not permitted. I thought it was excellent and would've happily stayed hours, had time allowed us to.

Now that's a ship!

With that, Stockholm was over. We took a bus back to the airport and were on our way. It had been quite an excursion. Right from the outset through my sickly stye, I had been condemned to suffering. I was burnt, frozen, mocked, set upon by a human whale weight, and crippled because of it. Yet I remained smiling right throughout, like a Fung. Its part of their mentality that rubs off on you. Sure they may threaten death over an unclaimed corn kernel, but they do so in a spirit that speaks warm of ways. They embrace disadvantage and sure up the odds in the stock of each other. That's the true taste of a Fung... metaphorically of course, not... Though incidentally in the drinking game, the Candice Fung had to lick my ears... like sweet strawberries she said... an example of how the Fung is an expert in flavour.