The last night in Hornstull

November 18, 2012

This will be the last night we spend in Hornstull, tomorrow we’ve officially moved to our own apartment. We’ve already gotten the keys, and a small tour around the neighborhood from our landlords. Come Monday morning at 10AM, Paulina will start moving things over, the reason why Paulina will have to do it, is because I’m at work.

I’ve also made the largest money transfer as of yet in Sweden, and actually the second largest in my life (Buying my Volvo was the largest transfer I’ve made, costing me ~6000€). And the interesting part of this was the many hoops placed out in the banking system, probably to stop frauds, or making sure that you know what you’re doing.

Banking system

As many people probably know, and lots of people probably don’t know, is that the most common way to authenticate yourself to the banking website is through an RSA like authenticator. There’s two ways to authenticate  (that I know of), you either have a personal dongle, which you input the numbers the banking site gives you, and the dongle gives back a number that you enter which identifies you as the owner. The other system is more like a card reader, but the principle is almost the same, you enter your card into the dongle, input the number from the banking site and enter your cards pin number, then the dongle will write out a number on its screen.

Anyway, the usual flow is, first authenticate yourself against the system, this will lead to an overview screen of your banking statements, transferals and so on. But if you do an action, like a transfer or paying a bill, you’ll need to re-authenticate yourself. Now if you try to move a large amount of money, the system will trigger a third authentication, where you need to enter the last 6 digits of the account your trying to transfer to, into the dongle, and then it gives back the number to the system.

Well as always, when dealing with banks, something goes wrong, luckily, it didn’t end with me loosing any money. But after entering all the details of my landlord and trying to do the transferal  the bank told me that the account I’m trying to transfer to, doesn’t exist. I tried multiple times, triple checking that all the information was right, but no success. I then tried to input the account number without a clearing number, and it worked. Apparently, when transferring between to accounts that are in the same bank you shouldn’t use any clearing number.

Java to PHP

Now no blog post is a true post without at least a little technical stuff in it, but I’ll keep it short. This last week I got a small sweet project that I’ve really enjoyed. I got an old Java project that handles bookings that need to be moved over to PHP. Pretty straight forward, but with a small little twist, they didn’t want me to spend any time trying to get the source working in a development environment,  instead I could look, but not touch the live system if there were any questions in how something worked. The live system was kind of unstable and instead chose to just start to port over the most important parts of the system. I think I ported a few thousand lines of codes, and wrote maybe a thousand lines of my own code before I even tried to run it. When I felt that I had ported and implemented enough stuff that I should be able to actually see something, I powered up my browser and checked the site out, it worked straight out of the box, 4 hours of blindly coding, and it worked. Ego-boost to say the least.

Crazy people in Gärdet

Another fun thing that actually happened last week, which I forgot to write about was an incident at Gärdet (one of the ports for the Finlandsfärjan). Me and Paulina went out there because it’s the only place that we know of that sells the energy drink battery, which Paulina has developed a pretty strong taste for (the nice way to say addiction). So there we were, eating breakfast and minding our own business when a random guy decide to sit at our table. The complete terminal was empty, but he wanted to sit at our table. A few moments pass and then he starts to speak, I couldn’t make out a thing he said at first, it sounded like some freak blend of Swedish, English and Finnish, so we did what any reasonable couple would do, we ignored him. He was quiet for about 5 minutes after his first outburst before he started talking again, this time I could make out some of the words, and I was pretty sure that he spoke Swedish and English. He asked us where we were from, we answered that we’re originally from Finland but that we live in Stockholm. He continued with his bad Swenglish, even though we, multiple times, told him that we speak Swedish (and we did so in Swedish). At last we thought it had gone through his thick head that we were Swedish speakers, but no, he replied with a short “Jag är sorry för my bad English” (I’m sorry for my bad English). We told him again that we do speak Swedish and that he doesn’t even have to try in English, which in hindsight, was a bad idea, because now he finally understood that we knew Swedish. He went off on a rant about how Finland is trying to steal all the euros from Germany and that the Euro will result in the end of the world as we know it, because it says so in the  bible(?). At this point, we firmly told him that Finland is rich enough to not need any money from Germany, and that we highly doubt that the bible had any references to the Euro currency, he looked both shocked and disgusted, at this point, we left. I don’t know what it is, but every time we’re out with Paulina, the most strange people come out to talk with us.

Ikea, don’t go

You might remember in a post a few weeks ago where I contemplated about the idea to use Sundays as an exploration day. Well, I haven’t yet told Paulina about it, but we did go out today. We went to Ikea in Kungens kurva, this because we need some sheets for the new apartment. And I’ve got to tell you this, Ikea is the worst place in the world, filled with annoying people, with annoying children, walking so slowly that it feels like you’re in the middle of a zombie movie. And adding to this disaster, I also had a pretty bad headache. I haven’t been as happy as I was when leaving Ikea in many years. So to sum up my first Swedish Ikea trip (I’ve been to multiple Finnish Ikea’s), the best part is when you leave.

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