Kubb

The calendar still says April but the weather over the holiday weekend was so perfect that we had to pull a summer classic out of storage a little early.



Kubb, which originated here in Sweden, is one of those games of skill many players will tell you they somehow drastically improve at with each drink they take. Similar correlations have been known to occur with darts and Guitar Hero, but I digress. If there’s an explanation it’s probably because kubb goes hand-in-hand with grilling which, of course, goes hand-in-hand with beer.

You basically take turns throwing six wooden batons at your opponent’s five wooden knights, also called “kubbs,” to knock them over from a distance of about eight to 10 meters. After you’ve taken care of the knights, you knock down one wooden king in the middle of the pitch to win the game.



From that description it might not sound as thrilling as your first roller coaster ride but trust me, kubb is no ordinary “lawn game.” And you don’t need to be drinking to experience full enjoyment. In fact, when it gets as competitive as it probably does at the World Championship on the Swedish island of Gotland in the Baltic Sea (where the game is said to have originated), it’s undoubtedly best to be sober.

Here’s a comprehensive YouTube tutorial with some visuals and cheesy music:



Kubb shares elements with several different games. Some people draw the obvious comparisons to bowling and horseshoes and others call kubb “Viking’s chess.”

I think it’s also similar to pool in a major respect, in that if you knock over the king before you’ve downed all your opponent’s knights you automatically lose, same as pocketing the eight-ball before sinking all the stripes or solids in a game of billiards.

As many similarities as kubb has to other games, there’s really nothing like it. I suggest you navigate directly to eBay and purchase a set.

Wrågårdskalaset

We’re finally enjoying a much-needed mellow night at home, basically the first since I arrived in Sweden a few weeks ago.

Last Saturday was a big one for the town of Falköping. What used to be a huge downtown dress-up party featuring school bands and the works the last weekend in August for 20-some years is now an even more massive carnival on a farm outside town.

Wrågårdskalaset attracted 1,500 revelers this year, according to a story in the local paper the next day. As far as I understand, there’s no real point to the celebration. A bunch of young people get dressed up in costumes a couple months before Halloween and get drunk outside while the weather is still warm enough.



The city could no longer afford the costs associated with closing down the streets and providing security and other staffing for the event, so it shifted to the farm a few years ago. The landowner had decided he didn’t want to make it in the fields anymore so he renovated his barns and converted them to meeting, banquet and party facilities.

Buses included in the ticket price ran from the train station in town, which was convenient since Amanda’s sister’s apartment is only a few hundred meters away.



Wrågårdskalaset had some decent bands rocking outdoors.



DJs played club music in the barns.





After two weeks of seemingly nonstop partying, I had a few productive days this week, too. I updated my resume, modified it until it fit the mold of a curriculum vitae and sent it off to a couple of advertised job openings.

I’m preparing a few cold-call cover letters for some English teaching opportunities that I hope to send out in the next several days.

I’ve also downloaded the media credential application for the London 2012 Olympics and will soon be submitting that. Only 691 days to go and I already can’t wait.

Kräftskiva - Crayfish Party

After missing midsommar and the raucous celebrations that accompany the late June solstice, I couldn't wait to experience another popular Swedish summertime tradition last weekend - kräftskiva.

While many Swedes incorrectly refer to it as a “lobster party,” kräftskiva actually translates to “crayfish party.” And while crayfish may be part of the same shellfish family and resemble mini lobsters, slurping meat out of a salty crayfish is a much different experience than using a fork to dip a tender lobster tail into drawn butter.



Kräftskiva is a very popular Scandinavian tradition that originated in Sweden. Late every summer, at the beginning of crayfish season, families and friends gather to eat tons of crayfish and drink alcohol. A lot of alcohol. I wasn't the only one who woke the next morning with a pounding headache.

Party accessories are common, and Amanda decorated the tables with crayfish plates and napkins and spread crayfish confetti everywhere. At some parties, I'm told guests even wear crayfish hats.





More than a dozen members of Amanda’s extended family joined us as we sang special crayfish drinking songs.





For dessert, I made chocolateballs for only the second time ever. They quickly became my favorite no-bake sweet during my visit last winter and after another warm reception, I'm thinking about making them professionally soon.