Have been getting all kinds of funny looks on the streets of Stockholm today. Just realised that, given the fresh bleaching, and lack of cutting, my hair is starting to look like Robyn’s. As in the Swedish pop star, currently doing well in the UK. Perhaps they think I’m her transvestite tribute act. At a distance. In the dark. In another world.
Thought I should do the Stockholm tourist bit properly today. Stood around dithering in a bookshop, choosing between the various guides. Rough Guide. Lonely Planet. Berlitz. Eyewitness. Eventually I left without buying any of them, because I suddenly realised I had a discount voucher for another bookshop on the other side of town. I also realised I’d used the time I could have spent on a museum or attraction on browsing through guidebooks about which museum or attractions to see. There’s a very clumsy analogy about my life somewhere in there.
