If you have ever been in Sweden, as I have a number of times in the last decade, you might have noticed the many little colorful boxes stacked in fridges in super markets and grocery stores, usually near the counter. You might have also seen them in camping stores, or tobacco shops. The 18+ signs usually are nearby as well. And if you ever had a drink in a Swedish cafe, you might have noticed a Swede ordering a beer, laying one of these boxes on the table, and doing the little ritual that they do. You might also have read about (or seen) Lisbeth Salander doing it in the marvellous Millennium books.

The boxes contain little patches of tobacco, resembling tiny tea bags, and what’s inside of these patches is called “snus.” The Swedes have developed a whole cult about it, compared to the cigarette cult in the Western countries. In the US, there is also “snuff,” a little meager brother of snus. Like Budweiser compared to heavy Belgian beer (oh yeah).

My first experience was probably a typical one. Ok, maybe the start was not: I drank a couple of Ricards, started a bonfire in my garden (it was a warm Summer night), and plugged in a snus patch.

By the way, Ricard is an anise flavored heavy alcoholic (45%) beverage, which is usually drunk with ice and water. I do it with ice, and one or two drops of water. Especially the French like it. They also like snails. Ricard is the modern version of the infamous liquor “absinthe” — you know, the green stuff devoured in the old Parisian cafes, by artists such as Lord Byron, Van Gogh and Hemingway, highly addictive and even giving birth to the disease “absintheism,” which is kind alike alcoholism, but much more fun (due to the usually rapid-onset hallucinations). (Usually absintheism patients ended up in the nuthouse, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. And anyway, the French eat snails.)

Tony Jr. was also there, and did the same thing, without the Ricard.

I liked the taste and the ritual at once. But then, after some 20 minutes or so, something started to happen. In my stomach, that is. You see, my belly became more and more noisy, and the world was turning. Usually I like the latter, but slightly less if my stomach joins the merry-go-round. Tony had the same feelings. And when I uttered that I needed to go to the bathroom, he wanted to go first. And he did. Oh, he really did.

I ran to the can a few moments later, and what happened there, was one for the books. Apparently, what was inside my digestive system needed to leave the building, but the pack parted at some point. So some decided to leave by the back door, and the others headed towards the front.

And so it happened.

But, dear reader. Sometimes you meet a nasty, though marvellous and beautiful, woman, and you are bitten badly, even bleeding, and you want to run. This is the easy way. Robert Frost wrote (in his famous poem “The road not taken”):

”Two roads diverged in a wood and I — I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.”

You will never taste the promised land if you are a runner.

And I am NOT a runner.

So, dear reader — SNUS it is.

In the next couple of posts, I will lead you to the wonderful world of snus. From easy going, to truly difficult, to the strong and heroic.

Tony Jr., are you there ?