"Knock-Knock!" "Who's There?"

It's cold here. For days we've been wearing our only sweatshirts (matching grey ones) and our only long pants (matching khaki ones). Dressed like twins and with our new gleaming white tennis shoes, we've been getting quite a few odd looks. So I was a little concerned when we pulled into the driveway to Heidi's parents house in the small town of Knrrivik.

"Do you think one of us should change?" I asked John. But there was no time. Heidi's mother was already at the door calling, "Welcome, welcome!" As soon as we entered her house, my concerns melted away. In front of us stood Mr. and Mrs. Ronning in identical purple and yellow running suits. John gave me one of those knowing looks.

"We got your note," said Mrs. Ronning. "I called Heidi and she's thrilled that you're here in Sweden. They talk about you and the car they bought from you in New Zealand all the time. So how has your trip been?"

We instantly felt welcome. Anyone staring in the kitchen window would have thought we were old friends. Over tea we talked about America, heard stories about their travels and learned that one of their realtives, one they were not all too proud of, had ridden as a train bandit with Jesse James.

It wasn't until 9:30 p.m. that we left to see Heidi and Fred. Their new apartment was 40 minutes south and I wondered whether we should be calling on them so late. But sublight has a way of extending the day and when we arrived they didn't seem to think it was late at all. But late did creep up on us and at midnight, when the sun finally set, we said good night. "We'll talk more when the sun comes back up," I said. Heidi laughed. "That will be in about six hours. "