There's no high-vis in heaven.

Today was quite simply the closest thing to heaven I will ever encounter, and I will wistfully remember it when I burn in Hades for all eternity for taking the Lord's name in vain whenever I stub my toe or run out of clean towels.

But back to heaven! In heaven you can ride a heavy, practically vertical cruiser like this and you really enjoy it. (You even think about trading in your Masi road bike for a similar model upon your return to Earth, but dismiss this as a flight of vacational fancy.) You also don't have to wear a helmet (can't find one even if you wanted to) and your hair will just do whatevs, and it doesn't bother you in the slightest.


In heaven I rode my bike past a building site full of Swedes working without shirts. Now, in reality I am pro-higher education and anti-skin cancer, and am much more attracted to a man holding a book than one holding a shovel, but in heaven that doesn't much matter. And in heaven OH&S be damned, because in heaven (AKA Stockholm) there ain't no thang like a high-vis vest.

After passing through the pearly gates, you get to spend the day at Moderna Museet and the adjoining Arkitekt Museet The Moderna has a focus on contemporary photography, so I got to see a few Nan Goldins and Larry Clarks I had not seen before. The ArkitektMuseet is incredible, as is the adjoining LIBRARY (!!!!) of books related to architecture, planning and design. No visit to heaven would be complete, of course, without a stop in the gallery shop to buy some clever postcards and what-have-you.

The food is great in heaven. It is healthy and flavourful and perfectly seasonal, like this quinoa and broad bean salad with Swedish "pesto" (some kind of pureed turnip).


After lunch on such a glorious day, you might go pick up your bike and ride to Djurgarden, a national park on one of Stockholm's many islands. Djurgarden is a lot like Rottnest Island in that it is stunning and bike-friendly and seemingly always sunny, except in Djurgarden there are no snakes or ugly Quiksilver boardshorts or Dome cafes. Instead there are wolverines (not even joking) and horses and more moments that took my breath away than repeatedly getting punched in the kidney. You don't take too many photos, though, because you're so busy enjoying the ride.


When your legs get tired you can catch the ferry from heaven back to your hotel, passing by a fairground, and fill your lungs with fresh air.


You finish the perfect day by having dinner with a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, which could have been awkward as hell, but because this is heaven, will actually be a lot of fun and you talk about all sorts of stuff, like constitutional monarchies and the 1975 dismissal, amongst other things. And you will get to learn that some Swedish phrase sounds a lot like Yo-Yo Ma.

On the agenda in heaven tomorrow: a SWEDISH HASBEENS GARAGE SALE (brown paper bag please) and a trip to Muji.

Glory be,
The Blessed Mother Chops

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