Night 9 - Frolunda Indians, Italian with Reindeer, and the Ritz

To start the night, the group went downtown to witness a Swedish pastime, hockey. We watched the Frölunda Indians, home, crush their opponents. The game was slightly different than NHL, as the rink was much bigger, which caused player's to focus more on speed. Also, Swedish hockey fights are rare and quickly  broken up. Watch the following videos of the crazy pre-game show/introduction.

Afterwards, the group headed across the street to a high end Italian restaurant with divine food. Members of our group ordered lobster with crab and lobster ravioli and steaks, and I chose to order a pasta dish with a special ingredient- reindeer. Rudolf was delicious (far right). 

We ended our night with a crazy trip to a high end bar called the Ritz.  Alex Braatz and I were walking down the main avenue when we met some piss-drunk Swedish guy who asked what our plans were for the night. We tell him we don't have any yet, and suddenly he yells "Hey group! Slow down!!!" and a group of eight girls and two guys (all just slightly older than us) stop yelling and laughing and turn around.  After brief introductions, we were all best friends and are having a party while walking down the sidewalk.  We didn't know where they were taking us, but at the time it didn't seem important.  We wind down a road off the avenue, walk around the corner of a building, and suddenly our destination: the Ritz nightclub. It definitely lived up to it's American namesake; it was a nightclub in a Swedish castle. It looked like some royal family should live here, and definitely not any place that would Alex and I in. As we walk closer, we can see colored lights occasionally flashing out windows and feel our chest cavities pulsing and reverberating from the sound system within.  I was starting to get worried about how we'd get it in, and was sure we'd get rejected.  There was a long line, and Alex and I certainly didn't look like we fit in with all these cosmopolitans and the Swedish upper class. So we followed our drunk guide as he marched up to the front of the line. He said a couple slurred words in Swedish, and then the bouncer smiled and lifted the rope for all of us. No questions asked, no cover charged, and certainly no miracle wasted. We walked in, and were blown away the second we saw what we had in store for us. It was the most posh, upscale, lavish, crazily European nightclub imaginable. And drinks were affordable! We stayed until closing at 3:00 AM, and the time FLEW. We found heaven on our last big party night in Gothenburg. I'm not sure who that drunk Swede was or how he got us in, but I like to think of him as our late-night guardian angel. 

Part of the main dance floor while the club is shutting down