Friday, 24 August 2012

Week16: Swedish moral gone too far

This week I’ve been to work with my host who is a librarian. Apart from being a bit more organised (even the picture books are in alphabetical order), her library wasn’t that different to the libraries I’ve worked at in England. What surprised me more was an official sign on the notice board informing me that smoking was banned during work hours.

I’m not a smoker and I’m by no means supporting smoking as I know people who have died painful deaths because of it. It’s fair enough to ban smoking inside work places and perhaps stretch it to outside the work building if it irritates other people, but to ban it altogether? I’d call that discrimination. One reason for the ban is that ”no customer or citizen should be exposed to people smoking or smelling of smoke during work hours”. What’s next? Will garlic be banned as well? And what if someone gets exposed to a member of staff chewing gum or sucking on a cough sweet? Isn’t it your own responsibility if you want to ruin your lungs or teeth?

When I asked my host what she would not miss about Sweden if she lived abroad she said ”It can be a bit too moralising sometimes, but it’s not only bad, it depends on how much I agree”. She’s right. I think the smoking ban in pubs that came into force in Sweden in 2005 and in England in 2007 is great, but I don’t mind if someone wants to smoke outside - whether it’s during work or party hours doesn’t matter.

Friday, 17 August 2012

Swenglish so far, a Poem


Swenglish - so far

I've been a fly on the wall,
a spy in the everyday life
of my friends

The walls between
me and other people
have become thin
like five-pound notes

I’ve shared their
fry-ups and Sunday roasts
their fish ‘n’ chips
and Marmite toast

I’ve read stories to little brats
and battled with wild cats
I’ve cleared up domestic mess
God bless the English
- keep calm and carry on!

I’ve met fussy tea drinkers
and heavy deep thinkers
Mediation and dance
Taking a chance
when quizzing in a pub
surviving the greasy grub

Bubbling and squeaking
I’m sick of toilets
that don’t flush and I blush
like the Setting Sun
when I think of all the fun
conversations I’ve had
in bedrooms and bathrooms

I’ve slept in a caravan
in kitchens and public houses
Cheers! Another pint,
I feel frail after all the real ale
Beer Festivals and Red Tents
I’ve been up on the Downs
for countryside strolls
and lost control
of weeds in gardens

I’ve climbed walls
and I’ve painted walls
I’ve been off the wall
and driven my friends up the wall

One woman nearly slapped me
but I felt more numb
when this guy rubbed my bum

Breaking down the wall
between Sweden and England
I’m  not Swedish, I’m not English
I’m Swenglish!


©Lou Ice 2012


I wrote this poem, looking back on the fifteen weeks I spent with fifteen different people in England this spring and early summer. I've only got a couple of days left of my break that I've spent in and around my hometown Nässjö. On Sunday I move in with the first person in Sweden who lives in Malmö in the South, and later on this autumn I'll go all the way up to Umeå in the North. I'm excited and ready to hit the road again! 


If you want to know more about my project please subscribe to my blog posts by typing in your email address in the box to the right below the "about me" picture. You can read more about my Swenglish project here.


Photo by Adriana Pusha who works for Brighton and Hove TV that are making a documentary about Swenglish.


Wednesday, 8 August 2012

WeekX: Make a Wish - but Not for Vegetarians


The woman I stayed with during week 3  asked me if I wanted to make a wish. Sure, I said. But when I found out that the wish involved chicken bones I changed my mind ... It's an old English tradition to break off one part each of a chicken bone - whoever gets the biggest piece is allowed to make a wish. I haven't seen this tradition in Sweden, perhaps because I'm too young or because I mainly hang out with other vegetarians.



My host put all the chicken bones together and made a star. She called this piece of art "Unfulfilled" ...


PÅ SVENSKA

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Week X: The Freedom to Roam - Allemansrätten

In Sweden it's legal to put up a tent anywhere in nature for one night without asking for permission. This "right" is part of something called Allemansrätten ("Everyman's Right") and basically means that you've got the freedom to roam in nature.  Allemansrätten is not a law but is inscribed into one of Sweden's four constitutions and is unique for the Nordic countries.

Over the weekend I went camping with my friends on Öland - a Swedish island in the Baltic sea. We took a chance and followed a dirt track down to the sea and put up our tent. It stank of cowpat and seaweed, but I experienced a real sense of freedom and the sunset was a beauty. Some of us also had a (naked) bath in the sea. The cows left us alone, although some birdwatchers woke us up in the morning ...

(I've camped in "the wild" in England too, so it's possible. Now I almost missed the excitement of the risk that a farmer would come by with his gun ... )


PÅ SVENSKA








Saturday, 21 July 2012

Week X: Takeaway Pints

I've been in Sweden for ten days and I haven't yet been anywhere near a pub. I've been hiding in my parents basement working on my Swenglish book. In my hometown Nässjö there's only one pub, in an English town of the same size - 16 000 people - there would be about twenty pubs.

Once when I was in the Evening Star in Brighton, a friend said he was about to leave, but that he'd get some takeaway beer. I thought he was going to pop to the off licence - instead he went up to the bar and got takeaway pints of ale in old milk bottles! I've never seen anything like it in Sweden - it would be impossible anyway as the milk bottles here are all tetra pack.

PÅ SVENSKA

Sunday, 15 July 2012

Week X: Swedish Strawberry Habits

I hate food blogging, but food is inevitably a big part of people's life and every single person or family I've stayed with has had different food habits.

In my family we always eat strawberries in a bowl with milk and sugar. I think that's a very Swedish thing to do; when I had strawberries with milk in England a friend said: "that's unusual" as he was used to cream.

However I don't know if it's a Swedish thing or just a habit that comes from my family. We also like to have strawberry or currant squash (unmixed) with our pancakes.

IN SWEDISH

Monday, 9 July 2012

Week X: Halfway there

This is the woman 
who has spent 15 weeks
being a traveller in the everyday life
of 15 different people in England

This is the woman 
who gave up her room and her job 
and her own social life
in order to live the life of other people

This is the woman
who is going to do it all over again
15 weeks, 15 different people in Sweden
Is she crazy?


Tomorrow I'll be on a plane to my home country and then a train to my hometown Nässjö. 
Six weeks of working on my Swenglish book, before moving in with Swedish person number 1. 

I'm more confused than I was when starting the project 
and have no idea where I'll settle ... Exhausting and exciting in equal measures.

 I'll still be updating the blog during my break. Thanks for reading. 
And a big thanks to the people I've stayed with so far.

Sunday, 1 July 2012

Week15: The Smug Swede - Reliable & Punctual


For my last Swenglish week in England, I stayed with a Swedish guy who has lived in Brighton for as long as I have – about ten years. Like me he doesn’t look very Swedish, but says that the older he gets the more Swedish he feels.

We spent some time chatting about the differencies between Sweden and England and my host thought that Swedish people are more reliable: they mean what they say and keep their word. An English person might say ”Let’s meet up next week” even if she or he has no intention of doing so. It doesn’t mean the person is lying though: it’s part of their social script, just another polite phrase. If a Swedish person says ”Let’s meet up next week” she or he will usually get her diary our and make an arrangement as soon as possible.

With reliability comes punctuality. My host is rehearsing for a show he is doing, and walking to the rehearsal space he predicted that the director would be late – he was right. The actor who turned up for the second half of the day was late too. In my experience most English people think it’s okay to be up to fifteen minutes late without saying anything. After fifteen minutes she or he might send a text, saying sorry, but expecting the person who is waiting to be totally fine with it.

My host has affectionally been accused of being a ”Smug Swede” by his English girlfriend because he’s got the attitude that Sweden is superior in many ways which is true when it comes to how the houses are buildt or how things are organised in general.

Yesterday we helped the girlfriend to paint her flat. We were supposed to be there for 9, but didn’t turn up until 10. The danger of being a Swede living in England is that you lose your reliability and adopt any attitude of being late just because everyone else always is. Hopefully I won’t miss my plane to Sweden next week ...

Friday, 22 June 2012

Week14: The Horror of Marmite


My mission this week was to learn to eat the English spread Marmite. This yeast extract that looks like tar is a by-product of beer brewing and has got a reputation for being one of those things you either love or hate. 

The person I’m staying with is definitely a big lover of Marmite as it was the only food he liked when growing up. After five days of force-feeding myself I’m not hating it anymore ... I wouldn’t say that I like it, but I can tolerate it without feeling sick or sneakily having to put my toast in the bin.

What is worse though is that my host is a big horror film fan, and as I have to do whatever my host is doing I had to endure Nightmare on Elm Street. I started off in the armchair, but twenty minutes into the film I was on the sofa holding on to my host’s arm for sheer life ... Twice in the night I woke up having very dark dreams. I was grateful it was one of the shortest nights of the year.

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Week13: Football Score Helped me Decide

Yesterday Sweden played England in the Euro 2012, and a friend suggested that I make my decision whether to live in Sweden or England depending on the outcome of the match ...

Before Swenglish I hadn't watched a football match for over ten years, but this year I've watched two matches because two of my hosts have "forced" me to join in.

Yesterday's match was pretty exciting as football goes. Especially as my host, her two kids and I all bet money on the game. I believed Sweden would with win 4-2. The odds were so high that if that had happened I would've won nearly £800, but when Sweden scored 2-1, even the English family wanted Sweden to win so they could share the money with me ...

It didn't happen though. England won, 3-2 and I guess that means I have to live in England ... At least until next time Sweden plays England!

PÅ SVENSKA

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Week13: From being a Non-Drinking Vegan to having a Sunday Pub Roast


 The beauty of Swenglish is that even if I travel from one part of the city to another, it often feels like travelling between two different countries. I spent most weekend with host number 12 meditating, singing mantras, following a wheat-free, sugar-free, vegan, sattvic (excluding mushroom, onion & garlic) diet and drinking nothing stronger than nettle tea. On Sunday afternoon I met host number 13 in a pub for a (vegetarian) roast and pints of ale, followed by watching football in another pub.



Traditionally a meal similar to the English roast dinner is served in Sweden on Sundays, but people would never go out for a roast– unless there was a special occasion and even then they would have to find a posh gastro pub and spend lots of money. The potatoes would most likely be boiled instead of roasted and the meat would be pork or beef, rarely lamb. And it would be unheard of for the younger generation to have a traditional meal on a Sunday – take-away pizza is the Swedish way.

In England people of all ages, including lots of students, go out for a roast on Sundays and it’s very affordable (between £6 and £10) and you usually get a mountain of food. However the meal I had didn’t look very appetising (I photographed my plate before I’d touched anything – it was served in a true sloppy manner) and I’m not too sure about the taste as I was too hungry to care.

Among the slop on my plate were Yorkshire pudding (years ago I thought it was a dessert and it does remind me of savoury croissants), cauliflower cheese, and a mushroom parcel, so I definitely broke the wheat-free, vegan, sattvic diet. I enjoyed having an ale, but it wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. I quite liked my super healthy week ...

I couldn’t care less about the football – Ireland played Croatia and lost, but the Irishmen in the pub were in good spirits and sang along to the Irish folk songs that the bar staff kindly put on. Apparently England is playing Sweden this week. I’ll have to get my Swenglish flag out ...

Friday, 8 June 2012

Week 12: A Toilet in the Wardrobe


This is what you’ve all been waiting for ... another toilet post! The family I’m staying with this week will get the prize for having the weirdest toilet circumstances so far.

I thought I was sleeping next to a wardrobe ... But it turned out to be ... not the wardrobe to Narnia ... but the wardrobe to the toilet! I can’t see why you would waste wardrobe space by making an extra entrance to the loo. (There is another ”normal” door as well.) Also there’s no lock on the wardrobe door either side, so if you use the toilet anyone could walk in on you through the wardrobe. The gap between the wardrobe doors is big enough to have a peep, but luckily for the person who is peeing or whatever, the toilet itself isn’t within sight.

I’ve never seen anything like it in Sweden – or England for that matter. If you have let me know!

PS. Despite the weird wardrobe, I’d give the toilet 4 out of 5 stars as its clean and have mixed taps and no carpet.

Read more about my view on English toilets here.

Tuesday, 5 June 2012

WeekX: God Save the Queen

God Thank the Queen for giving us an extra day off work. Queen Elizabeth has reigned England, well Britain, for 60 years and the weekend that just passed was her Diamond Jubilee celebration. For most people it just meant an extra public holiday, an excuse to go mad or get drunk at a street party. Not too many people seemed to care about the Queen herself.

God Save the Queen, the infamous Sex Pistols song was released 35 years ago when the Queen celebrated her Silver Jubilee. I was very impressed by this song and odd as it sounds, Sex Pistols along with the other "77 punk bands" - and their message of rebellion - was one of the reasons I wanted to move to England.

The people I've stayed with so far (including the person who owns the picture in the picture) haven't been big royalists, they see the whole thing as a bit of a joke. However people in England seem to make a bigger fuss over their royal family than people in Sweden. There wouldn't be an extra public holiday just because of the king.*

Yesterday I moved in with Swenglish person number 12 and she spent the Jubilee Weekend camping in nature and was happy to be in total isolation, away from the crazy celebrations. My own views? I find kings and queens somewhat old fashioned and  feel sorry for anyone who's forced into something by birth. Despite what Sex Pistols sang, the queen is a human being, not a Queen.

Author Erinna Mettler has written about her view on the whole spectacle here.


*The National Day of Sweden, 6 June, has recently been made into a public holiday. I just found out that the origin of the day goes back to 1523 when the famous Gustav Vasa became king of Sweden, so after all the Swedes are just as crazy about their royalties as the English are ...


PÅ SVENSKA

Thursday, 31 May 2012

WeekX: Dog Biscuit or Cow Parsley?

This picture could have been taken in Sweden, but the location is Glynde in Sussex. One thing I really miss about Sweden is the nature and I often forget that there's nature in England too ... My friend James took me on a 7 mile* walk from Lewes to Glynde and back, a walk featured in the guide book "Cheeky Walks in Brighton & Sussex". Although 7 miles turned into 9 miles after we got  lost and bumped into a sign saying "private property". My legs are still burning from stinging nettles and it was a bit worrying seeing another sign saying "save the gorillas" ...

Talking about animals we also saw lots of cow parsley or "dog biscuit" (hundkex) as the white flower is called in Swedish. After ten years of living on and off in England I still haven't learnt many plant names. I should get out more ... In nature that is. Let's hope my remaining four Swenglish hosts in England like trees and bees and green things in general.

*about 11 kilometres. (I can't get used to  the English way of sticking to their own measurements. It's extra confusing as 10 kilometres = 1 Swedish mile and 1 English mile = 1,6 kilometres, so when James first asked if I wanted to come on a 7 mile walk, I was automatically thinking 70 kilometres!

PÅ SVENSKA

Thursday, 24 May 2012

Week11: Off the Wall

This is the most scary thing I've done so far during my Swenglish adventure ... The person I'm staying with this week is more sporty than I thought ... As if last nights climb wasn't enough she woke me up at 7am today to go for a run! It feels like I'm training for the Olympics or something.

I'm trying my best to keep up with the life-styles of my hosts, but some weeks are more challenging than others ... I know I cheated with the sea swimming, so at least I can take pride in climbing up a wall.


PÅ SVENSKA

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Week11: On the Road


A lot of the people I’ve stayed with so far have been writers of some sort, so this week makes a refreshing change as I’m spending time with a saleswoman. To be able to come to a work meeting with her, I had too dress up as a businesswoman myself: swapping my Dr Martens and leather jacket for flat shoes and a smart cardigan. I felt quite nervous and out of place, but loved the drive to the meeting.

Sitting in the car I tried to think of the differences between English and Swedish roads and driving. The only obvious difference is that the English drive on the left which I’m used to after going everywhere on my bike in my ”old life”. It only gets a bit confusing at roundabouts, I’m never quite sure which way to go ... I do have a driving license, but when people ask if I drive I usually say no. To drive in a small town in Sweden is different to hitting the motorway ”on the wrong side” in England. Another difference is traffic jams, it seems to be more of them in England, but then there are 62 million people living in the UK compared to 9 million people in Sweden ...

My host is a very good safe driver and I think most English people are as polite in the traffic as they are in shops. The only thing that worries me is that it tends to be more drunk driving in England than in Sweden. The drink-drive limit in the UK is 0,8 promille compared to 0,2 in Sweden ...

PS. the pics of me in as a businesswoman didn't turn out very well. I'm obviously not made for it ...

Thursday, 17 May 2012

WeekX: Snakebite

I'm asking everyone I'm staying with what their favourite drink is and so far real ale and red wine seem to be the most popular drinks, but I've also had a few odd favourites like Bloody Mary and Prosecco among my answers.

My own favourite alcoholic drink is Snakebite & Black (half lager and half cider with a splash of black currant). Not all bars will serve it though because they fear you might get too drunk as Snakebite tastes a bit like squash.  And I've never managed to get a Snakebite in a Swedish pub, so I sometimes make it at home.

This week I'm having a break from Swenglish which means I can drink exactly what I want as I usually try to drink whatever my host is drinking (or not drinking). The best places to get a Snakebite in Brighton are the Caroline of Brunswick, Prince Albert and the Hobgoblin.

PÅ SVENSKA

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Week10: Wildlife


I thought that staying in a house with two kids, two cats, mice and fish would be enough wildlife for me to cope with, but on the Bank Holiday Monday my host and her family took me to the British Wildlife Centre outside Lingfield.

The animals in England are pretty lame compared to the animals in Sweden. I wouldn’t really feel threatened by badgers, otters and foxes if I encountered them in the wild. In Sweden I’ve had my heart stopped on a couple of occasions when bumping into an elk or being close to a wild boar. I have never seen  wolf or bear or lynx, but they all live in the Swedish forest. The most exotic animal at the wildlife centre was the Scottish wildcat who can run 30 miles and hour and can’t be tamed even if you look after it as a kitten. I was also quite impressed by the showcase of flying owls.

During the day I tried to think about how an outing with an English family differs from an outing with a Swedish family. Having your picnic outside even if it’s cold and rainy is definitely somethng that happens in both countries. However it would be rare to have crisps with your lunch and is something I would miss if I move back to Sweden. (One of the few times I've seen portion sized crisps bags is at school discos.)

In the picture above the wildcat is about to be fed chicks for lunch. The youngest boy in the family couldn’t believe that was the same sort of chicken he was having, saying that his sliced meat was ”fake chicken”.

P.S. When we got back to the house one of the so-called domestic cats had done a runner, but was found the next day.

PÅ SVENSKA

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Week9: Quiz Me


I’d been dreading that I would be taken to a pub quiz at some point. I like the idea of this English tradition: to gather in a pub and team up with friends and strangers alike to answers questions about anything from historical battles to the ingredients of a specific recipe. But in reality quizzes make me uncomfortable because it reminds me that my general knowledge went out of the window when I finished school. And any day I’d prefer to have a chat about weather to being trapped in a quiz for two hours.

The closest Sweden comes to quizzes are "tipsrundor" - nature trails with multiple choice questions pinned to trees. This activity normally takes place in the morning and you’re more likely to win a wooden carved horse than a bottle of wine or cash to spend in the bar. Despite my love for nature I’m not a big fan of this activity either. There’s something about playing games that I can’t get into, perhaps because I don’t care too much about winning or losing. In fact I often want to lose so I can get on with doing something else.

Yesterday wasn’t too bad though. The person I’m staying with has got a good brain. He follows the news and there are books on political, historical and social topics in his bookshelf. When he went out for a cigarette everybody had to wait for him to come back so the quiz could continue ...

There were a few questions that would be easier to answer if you grew up in England, e.g. who was the composer on the £20 note (Elgar) and which East Enders character survived being buried alive by his wife (!?). I was happy though that I knew the answer to the literature questions: in which decade the Lord of the Ring novels were first published (50s) and who the heroine was who married Mr Rochester in a Charlotte Bronte novel (Jayne Eyre).

It also helped that we were about ten people in our team and I wasn’t the only one hiding behind my glass. Funnily enough no-one at our table knew how many fluid ounces there are in a a UK pint (20). There were eight teams taking part and we came number four.

P.S. I was ashamed not to know how many stars there are on the New Zealand flag (4) as I've got NZ relatives and my brother is a flag freak!

PÅ SVENSKA

Thursday, 26 April 2012

Week8: Caravan Fever


A lot of holidaymakers in both England and Sweden use their caravans as a second home in summer, but this week I’m staying in a caravan that is a permanent home all year round. My eighth Swenglish host has lived here for almost two years; it’s warm and cosy and feels like a mini-flat.

However after four days of rain I’m starting to suffer from cabin (caravan) fever. On top of that I’ve come down with a tummy bug and am feeling pretty weak. To my comfort, my host is treating me very well. She had even bought some green tea as she read a previous blogpost where I mentioned what I missed from my “old life”, which is how I refer to my life before I started the project. As I’m trying to copy the routines of each person I’m staying with, I’m finding out what life-styles, including food habits, I like and don’t like. Apart from green tea I also miss muesli, which my host kindly provided.

I hope I’ve recovered fully before Saturday, so I can swap tea for wine! My host is a girl who works hard and parties hard. I understand why she describes her caravan as a sanctuary and creative space, it’s truly a place to wind down. In the midst of all the rain showers I’ve witnessed a couple of beautiful sunsets. And just as I finished writing this to snap some pictures, I noticed that the sky is blue. Finally.

PÅ SVENSKA

Tuesday, 24 April 2012

Week7: Swedish Horse in English Home

Can you spot the horse, aka "Dalahäst" in the photo? Saturday my host took me to his friend's birthday party. I'm not very good at small talk, but was relieved when I spotted the traditional Swedish wooden red horse in the bookshelf, giving me a reason to ask questions. It turned out that the birthday girl had bought it when browsing e-bay for "something red and ornamental".

Originally the Dalahäst was made as a bi-product to the furniture carpentry industry in the 17th century in the county of Dalarna. The mass industry of this horse started after it had been exhibited at the World Fair in New York in 1939. However each horse is still handcrafted and hand-painted in the kurbitz-style, apparently involving nine different people. So if you want "something red and ornamental" to put in your IKEA bookshelf, why not? To read more about the history of the Dalahäst click here.

PÅ SVENSKA

Thursday, 19 April 2012

Week7: World Famous Squares


It’s not every day I have lunch in Trafalgar Square. My seventh Swenglish person is an arts writer, and he took me round a few galleries in London. When we stopped for a sandwich in the world famous square I felt strangely happy.

To be in a place I’ve seen on TV and read about in books makes me feel connected, puts me on the map. That’s one thing I really like about living in England, to be part of the world. People all over the planet know about London landmarks, but I doubt anyone can name a square in Stockholm unless they’ve been there on holiday. 
Perhaps it’s my job to educate people, so I've inserted a picture of ”Plattan” ("The Plate"?) ,
or Sergels Torg, a famous square in the heart of Sweden’s capital. 

And as a bonus I'll give you "Dödens's  Väntrum" ("Death's Waiting Room"), 
the "big" square (stortorget) in my hometown Nässjö.




Saturday, 14 April 2012

Week6: Gaming


A part of Swenglish is to live the life-style of the person I'm staying with, and I'm trying to take part in as many varied activities as I can. I haven't talked to enough people yet to find out if computer gaming is more popular in England than in Sweden, but who would have thought that I'd play Battlefield and shoot people!? It's feels more "real" and is more addictive than I thought ... 

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Week6: Taking the Piss

This week I’m staying with a well-travelled guy who is fluent in JavaScript and other cryptic languages. Yesterday I went with him to The Brighton Farm, a networking group for freelancing new media types, and beforehand I was warned by another guy: ”People get pissed and abuse each other”.

It wasn’t that bad at all. Most people who go the Farm are serious about their work and have received a lot of support when building up their careers as freelancers. I overheard people asking for advice on everything from mobile apps to making promotional videos, and I went home with a couple of business cards in my pocket, but if you’re not familiar with the English expression ”taking the piss out of someone”, you might be in for a shock.

There were some people who called each other ”crazy” and did things like folding a fiver so it looked like ”the queen’s bum cheeeks”. I could give more examples, but they would be too rude to put in print.

I’d prepared myself to be bored. I’d thought the evening would be more like a meeting where people discussed HTML in detail, than a fun social event where anything goes. I chatted to a Chinese woman who had been to Sweden and found it strange that so many dark films like The Girl with the Dragon tattoo and Let the Right One In could could come out of a country that seemed so fairy-tale like on the surface. I blamed the dark Swedish soul due to the long winters, but against my will I found myself laughing along with the guys who made fun of each other’s surnames and downing pints like there was no such thing as work the next day. (Even though this netdrinking often leads to new job opportunities).
 
When I asked my host what he missed about England when he was away travelling he said, without hesitation: ”The humour. Having a cup of tea or drink with someone, having a laugh and taking the piss.’
 
According to Wikipedia “taking the piss out of someone” is an expression meaning to mock, tease, ridicule, or scoff. I also read up about the origin and there are several theories all urine-related, but as mentioned above, I want to keep this blog reasonably family-friendly, so if you’re interested you can read more here.

At the end of the night I when I took a piss (literally), I was once again amused by the dysfunctional English toilets.

PÅ SVENSKA