From 1965 to 1970 I lived in a part of Göteborg, Sweden, that made a strong impression on me: Annedal. The main street there is Västergatan. The area was mostly inhabited by students at this time.

Now they houses are torn down to allow for more profitable buildings. It was called "sanitizing the area". Well, it was alive and now it is sterile, so maybe the expression was fitting.

The buildings were two-story buildings of a kind particular to the larger Göteborg area.

Västergatan, view to the north

 The streets were covered with durable granite from Bohuslän

and, not so durable, tar from some oil rich country.

The residents were often interesting personalities.

Where the car is crossing, about two blocks away, is Albogatan where I lived.

A view in on a side street from Västergatan

 In the meantime, let it be said that people and characters, sometimes both, really made the atmosphere. My friends, Munken, Gardin, Annsofie, Fingal, Jansson, Berget, Gånge Rolf will sooner or later appear on pictures (the ones from the collection that can be published) here.

Lars Jansson Nordenskiöld and his wife Birgitta, "Floppy".

Soon after "Jansson" had graduated as an architect and married Floppy he was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was going to end his life all too soon. A brilliant intellect, a very educated mind that never slowed down or missed a whit, considerate, a comrade and friend, a gifted artistic mind. Still, 30 years later, Jansson lives on in the minds of all of us who had the privilege of knowing him.

Jansson ~1968 and Floppy 1972.

Floppy went on and re-married. For my 30^th birthday (on the picture above) she gave me a nice set of tea cups. One has survived to this day, and it is my 'tasse par preference'. Thanks, Floppy!

"Munken" ("The Monk") is still going strong. As an organizer and strategist, much of the activities at Västergatan had a detrimental influence on his studies in medicine. As time has the ability to set almost everything right, it set this right as well, and Munken is now in a very good job that must have been created with him in mind.

Night views from Albogatan and Västergatan

The lit windows of Jansson, Munken, Fingal and Jansson's second flat.

Munkens Fiat 600 parked on Västergatan. The car is small for such a tall guy as Munken. Fingal, always witty, nicknamed it "The Incubator". It may allude to a less than perfect exhaust system, the size certainly and possibly is it a reference to the owners attempts to procreate in the car.

Rolf, on the accordion and the piano. He has a good repertoire of the good old jazz standards and a steady boogie-woogie left hand. His wife of many years, Margareta, succumbed to a fire accident some years ago, and in her the Västergatan Crowd lost another long time member. Rolf is a tough guy, who had seen many sides of life before most people have even found themselves, and he is getting through it. He lives in Hällestad, Sweden, since some 20 years. While at Västergatan we spent many a night listening to my good old 78 rpm records. Made when the records spun faster and music had rhythm and melody both. Those were the days.

Birgit and Monty Claxton.

In the mid 60's Rolf had met Monty in Ireland or Scotland. He invited him to come by Sweden and Västergatan. A few years later it knocked on Rolf's door, and there was Monty! He was stopping by for a few days. It turned into a few years, and we all enjoyed Monty's company and friendship. Birgit was one of the girls at Västergatan. Don't you think they married and moved to New Zealand! Monty was from Australia and on a trip around England and Europe. In England he had a Brough Superior SS100 motorcycle put up. In about 1967 or -68 he sold it to me as he moved off to N.Z. They have done well, no doubt through long and hard work, and now have a beautiful inn in Christchurch. If your travels takes you there, reserve a room via their fax!

Cashmere House, 141 Hawthorne Road, Christchurch, NZ. Phone/fax : +64 3332 7864!

And look at them now, 30 years later:

August -99: Well, time goes on and Monty and Birgit have sold the inn, bought a house down the same road and are retiring.

It took me a year or two to get the money together to take the trip to pick up the bike, but in the summer -69 I was on my way.

is not the ideal climate for such exercises, but the country side was beautiful, and now and then there was a down hill slope. The bike was just put togther and not in running order. After a while a large car, Bentley or similar, swooped in and stopped in front of me. The driver leaned out and said: "One do not push a Brough Superior! Wann'a tow? Got a rope?" I had a clothesline string, about 5 - 6 m (15 - 18 ft). We tied one end to his bumper and I wrapped the other end around the handle bars and held a thumb on the end. I asked him to take it easy, because the brakes were not adjusted and barely working. My front wheel almost upon his rear bumper…The speedometer worked though. It indicated 50 mph (80 km/h)! All went well, and we arrived at the ferry terminal with the whole day to spare. The gentleman did not take me up on my offer for a lunch and wanted no money for the trouble. I have no idea who it was, but if he reads this: many thanks!

As I got back to Sweden with the bike another surprise was waiting. The Value Added Tax was some 11 % at the time. Just to make my day they charged me 16% "Enhanced VAT" because this was a "luxury item". (Now it is 25%!) I had to pay all kinds of fees, customs, accis and on top of it, VAT on the value of the bike, the transport cost and the other fees! Tax on taxes. A popular Swedish trick. It all ran to SEK 1121, more than the trip to England had cost me. I had to leave the bike in storage, and this was the moment I knew that one day I would leave that country. It took a year to get the bike out, with a lot of help from my friend Kjell Ljungström.

I got it running. It was actually only the cam shaft that had the wrong timing. Monty had told me that he just put all together to "keep it in one piece", so it was OK. After half a year I took it apart not to risk it in an accident or to get it stolen. It is still in parts.

Every so often there was time for a "yard party". Everybody pitched in, the girls performed magic with the food and we had a good time long after the sun had set! Above to the left, Munken and Gånge Rolf measure their strength. Lasse B is the judge, observing the elbows not moving. To the left of "B" is Kerstin, Lennarts wife. Behind Munken is Nisse Sandblad. This side of Rolf is "Floppy".

Another party on the same yard. From top left: Torbjörn, unknown (behind the candle probably Nisse, but possibly Torbjörns wife Cristel), Gånge Rolf, Birgit, Monty and Munken. On this side of the table, with the white hair band: Mollan, some unknown and Lasse B.

One important feature on Västergatan 31 was the "Dasstaket". It is the roof on the outhouse! It sloped south, was not tar covered and the wall behind was chalked white. Made for to get the good sun tan already in May! We even had chairs with the hind legs cut off so they could be used on the sloping roof. On the left picture above is Floppy and Kerstin nearest the camera, left to right. Behind Kerstin is Lasse R and behind him Annsofie. To the left of her, Lasse R's wife who's name just now escapes me. The marriage did not last. The way out to the Dasstak was through the window of the stairs in an adjacent house.