The Sport of Fish in Stockholm
It's earlier than I ever get out of bed which means it's just 7 am. I power walk along the river bank following the bike lanes, but there is enough space for me and several lanes of bikes. The Stockholm super highway of bike lanes. Good Swedish style.
The sun hides, making the clouds a bit brighter as the morning 
progresses. Ice floats in the river like a frozen drink that's been left on the bar to melt. Large fishing vessels contrast burnt orange and yellow buildings. Swedes hurry by on their way to work, on their way to somewhere. They say,"Hey" and I say "hello." And then they smile and keep hurrying along.
progresses. Ice floats in the river like a frozen drink that's been left on the bar to melt. Large fishing vessels contrast burnt orange and yellow buildings. Swedes hurry by on their way to work, on their way to somewhere. They say,"Hey" and I say "hello." And then they smile and keep hurrying along. I am a map-carrying tourist out for my scenic view of the world, of their world. A fisherman casts his nets down in the rushing water. I am amazed he's catching anything but large chunks of ice. He doesn't wear gloves and wears a wind breaker. I feel cold watching him pull out the wet fishing nets.
I continue on for 40 minutes and then come back to the hotel which is in the heart of Old Town. It's a hotel that serves as a history museum and a place tostay. Even the elevator has brass hand rails that make it feel like an old boat.At breakfast, I find a variety of fishy things but decide to avoid it all and go for the safety of cereal. I know today at lunch again I will have a choice of more fish and certainly a choice of fish for dinner.
My taxi cab driver on the way to the office goes over the play-by-playevents of the Olympic ice hockey games.
The Swedes were a big disappointment this year in all events. He also tells me with great regret that the Norwegians did well in cross country skiing and the Fins won the bronze for the ice hockey. But the Swedes didn't win in either sport.
I say to him, "Well maybe they didn't get very good fish in Japan." He doesn't realize I am teasing him, but instead analyzes the prospect."Could be," he responds, "I don't think the Japanese would have good fish at all. And the fish is the key to good sports."
I laugh to myself. Yes, the fish. I should have had the herring for breakfast, the white fish for lunch yesterday, and the salmon for dinner last night. No wonder why I am running lousy these days.
