Kempo in Svedala

Time for a martial arts technique camp. Now thats great translating! Teknikläger. You know, you go you train new stuff to move up a belt.

So I wake up witha bit of a headache, some kind of cold thing going on. Get to the place, nice old building in not so nice Svedala. Svedala seems like one big motorway service station. There is a centre, I've been there at least once, but the rest just seems like somewhere you stop on the way somewhere else.
I forgot my white belt, the beginners 'I know nothing belt' and had to borrow a red melt. Which is like the belt of a master. Someone a black belt would look up to. So, i get the Fear. They're gonna get me for this. But, actually everyone was very nice.
​After a couple of hours though my brain was soup from all the different moves. You train your next belt, but also the moves of two other (at least) next belts.
At the end 2 people get their belts. Tyrell: "Is this to be an empathy test? Capillary dilation, the so-called blush response?" Shockingly, with my achey soup-head, I am one of them.
Afterwards a quick bath and the over to TnT's for their sons birthday bash. Kids are happy bouncing on the trampoline, Hanna makes a new friend. All good. Tina tells me of a conspiracy theory whereby Shakespeare didnt actually write his stuff it was some Earl. I deny it fiercely. Then there's a bit about how, no, Stoke on Trent is not Stratford on Avon.