I went to Zak to help his family move from the nitty-gritty south side of Stockholm to the posh, untroubled rich-bitchy north side of town, but he was dumping trash as I arrived to the scene, so I went to have a morning coffee at Svart Kaffe; this café used to be the apex of drum 'n' bass in Stockholm. Whenever you'd enter the door you could be sure of the music of choice. The staff stored the music on cassette tapes in a bin, seemingly picked a tape out of the bin at random and played it, loudly. As I entered, I saw a pink iPod Mini playing Coldplay's "Clocks" at a semi-loud volume. Bad sign, people. The staff consisted of three teenage girls who were busy chatting with each-other about pretty boys, caring not about service. I'm not making this up, as I heard them blab off. Everybody did. People had to wait 10-20 seconds for service, as they had to yak before doing something. The cappuccino I was served was bad. The milk wasn't foamed properly. The coffee was hot, I'll give them that. Why didn't I go somewhere else? Tell me where I can find a good café in the south part of Stockholm early on a Sunday, and I'll give you doubt of its existence.

Anyway, I went to see Zak. We threw all of their stuff as carelessly as possible into a lorry and headed off for Abrahamsberg. Their new apartment is light, airy and will probably serve them well in the future. We were served blueberry muffins and soda, courtesy of Anna, Zak's cousin. We went back to their old apartment, where Zak had placed a lot of CD's he said he'd never listen to anyway; they were anybody's property, so I loaded up on a few, among which I found Spiritualized's "Let It Come Down" and The Cult's "Ceremony". We then picked up the rest of the furniture and then went back a last time. When I came home Mikaela treated my back with a loving massage, aaah!

A bath later, we quickly left for Mikaela's parents. They had invited Evelina's parents, who have always been surprisingly nice and open, whenever I've met them; I'm not saying they shouldn't be, but they're more open than most people I've only met one or two times. Mariette and José (Mikaela's parents) had made grilled potatoe-slivers with sliced leeks, spits with meat, chorizo, garlic-infused bread and a fresh salad. Evelina's parents had made a couple of plates of fruit cocktail, which was topped with white chocolate and then set to grill quickly in an oven. It all was very nice. I was too full to try the rhubarb pie, but managed to taste some of the fruit cocktail with ice-cream.

Now we're home, and now I'm going to bed. Oh yeah, here's a picture gallery with loads of shots from the activities of today. It's been brilliant.