"Why the hell would you come to Kiruna??!! This place is a hole!" - Local young male in pub, Kiruna.
Third post, second beer started, the band is playing 'Are you lonesome tonight', and I just had my photo taken with a man dressed up as a pelican. The blog is starting to acquire a Hunter S. Thompson vibe.
After being foiled by licensing laws in Norway, the boys (Rob and Hugh, and my good self when Ro wasn't looking....) were determined to make amends when we got to Kiruna. If anywhere was likely to have an interesting nightlife, we reasoned that the Swedish equivalent of Queenstown would provide it.
Well, we did manage to get a bit socially lubricated, but the night was sufficiently tame that most of it can be related here. First stop was a small pub, which was ok except for the bar staff's determination to server me green alcopop drinks. It appears your manly Kiruna Iron miner doesn't have long curly hair. With that lesson learned, and the pub closed, we progressed to the local nightclub with our local guide (who provided the quote at the top of the blog). Amusingly, Kiruna is blessed with 2 night clubs, so of course one is 'cool', with a huge line out the door (which looks weird at midnight, but full sunlight, and the odd hotted up Volvo doing blockies), and the other is dead as a door nail.
Spending an hour queueing with a bunch of Swedish teens didn't have a lot of appeal, so we decided on the 'uncool' club, which also doubles as restaurant. Rob is fond of pointing out that almost every destination so far has been 'just like Swan Hill', and then listing a few differences. At this club, the only difference was the language spoken - pretty damn funny. We met a few Swedes (who all expressed amazement that we'd willingly visited Kiruna), stayed until the club closed, then went back to our hostel, with mission accomplished.
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