It's not easy to find food in Upssala on sunday night. the streets are empty and the swedes are either hung over from saturday or just asleep.
Me and my friend susanna are searching desperately for food. we were about to give up as a "Max" sign shined in the distance.
"who is max?", i asked, wondering if he can give us some food
"you'll soon find out", replied my friend, and with her last strengths dragged me to good old max.
indeed, the one thing you can count on to be open on a sunday night is Max, the swedish version of Mcdonnalds.
You can feel the swedish ambiguity about burgers with the first bite. I mean, how hard is it to make a decent burger? yet, they are too dry, too flat, and magically resemble a shoe sole. I don't think they realy want to eat them anyway.
it does, however, explain why every average swede looks like a gym instructor.
I should take some pictures of dear old Max and put them here.
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