Just back after almost six weeks in beautiful Sweden. So many stories of trust and love and roots and friendship, but the real sense of place appeared before I even got out of the airport. There's a big bin in the hall in front of the customs with a sign kindly informing travelers that hash is forbidden in Sweden and any person carrying such a substance can throw it in the bin, otherwise they might have trouble entering the country.
It makes me think of Lou Reed and it makes me happy.
I've seen the bins in other countries too, but your always supposed too put fruit or food there. But we don't want that stuff. No half-eaten apples here please. Give us the good shit.