I was up early with my body still on Colorado time (if there is such a thing). The air was cool and wet, reminded me of Venice in November (haha, I can say that!)- damp sheets and everything cool to the touch. Skyped for a bit, attempted to force myself back to sleep and then succumbed when I heard people stirring upstairs. A quick breakfast of soygurt, muesli and strong, black coffee (the Swedish way) and we were on our way, first boarding the Pendeltåg into the Stockholm city center. The train was relatively full with commuters, both workers and students (college and younger), most with their noses in their iPhone. We arrived in the central station (Stockholm C) and made our way from the train platform to the surface and out onto Sergel's Torg ("ser-yells tor-ye", Sergel's Square), a bustling, modern city square in downtown Stockholm- site of sporting victory celebrations, regular protests and demonstrations, and apparently, drug dealing. The area was quite busy, with folks on their way to work and tourists like myself, wandering around obstructing the flow of pedestrian traffic.
While in the neighborhood, I figured I would make my first visit to my new friends at the Swedish Fulbright Commission on Vasagatan (gatan = street) just down the way from Sergel's. A ride up a very Swedish elevator (just big enough for the two of us) and we arrived at the office. Eric and Monica were very welcoming and gave me a quick rundown on the preparations that they had made, including a Swedish bank account (not easy to get apparently) and personal ID number (also difficult to obtain). In addition, they have organized monthly social events during which the Fulbrighters will gather. I'll be bugging these folks quite a bit over the next year, thanks Eric and Monica!
We wandered hastily around the city center for a bit, walking past modern clothing stores and office buildings. As we continued about I noticed a couple of things about Stockholm that seemed different from other cities that I have seen. Everywhere we went things seemed very clean and orderly. No trash in the gutters, cigarette butts on the sidewalk, even the garbage cans and surrounding areas were tidy. There was some amount of vehicle traffic, and by this time presumably most people were already at work, but I didn't see backed up traffic or even large numbers of cars that we might see near the business center of an American city. Much of the vehicle traffic appeared to be municipal and service vehicles: garbage trucks, delivery, taxis. Most people were on foot or bicycle, and the folks that were driving were very courteous to us non-motorized cats. These, along with the docile and unobnoxious people, made Stockholm a comfortable and welcoming place, which was quite nice given that I had been in the country for just over one day. Lastly, there didn't appear to be any homeless or pandhandlers, or maybe just not in the city center. Possibly all products of high tax rates and a generous welfare system? I have much to learn.
Continue. We sauntered into Hötorget ("huhr-tor-yet", haymarket) where a vibrant fruit and vegetable market greeted us with lingonberries and bounties of bright yellow kanterella mushrooms. We pecked on some berries in front of the Konserthuset (Stockholm Concert Hall), which was housing a Banksy exhibition and will later host the Nobel Prize Ceremony (interesting contrast).
A hop over the bridge and we entered Gamla stan ("old town"), a small island between Norrmalm and Södermalm (the "north" and "south" islands), home to many of the iconic narrow cobble streets and medieval architecture which dates back to the 13th century, including the Nobel Museum, the Stockholm Cathedral, the Riddarholmen Church (burial site of Swedish monarchs), and the Kungliga slottet, Sweden's baroque royal palace. Gamla stan is definitely an area to devote a good amount of time to: admiring at the well preserved architecture, people-watching at outdoor cafes in open plazas, and visiting the many historic sites. Despite the tourists and novelty gift shops, I will be back to Gamla stan. But onward we go, time was short and still more to see before the end of the day!
We made our way toward the Skeppsbron ("the ship's bridge") harbor and onto a ferry, my trusty blue SL card coming through for me again providing free access to the ferry. The small, steel, motorized boat puttered into the harbor, providing a nice view of Gamla stan behind us, the cliff boundary at Stadsgården to the south, and the pleasant traditional Swedish architecture of the prestigious harbor-side hotels, shops and apartments on Strandvägen (beach road) to the north. I wandered about the boat for a few minutes thinking that I could find a "toalette", opening a door to a maintenance room and trying several others that were locked, looking like another confused American tourist. We exited the ferry after making a round about the island Djurgården and then landing on the opposite side of it, near the Vasa museum, which houses the salvaged 17th century ship of the same name that sunk on it's maiden voyage near Stockholm. With still an hour or so before our Silja ferry departed, we enjoyed a pint at an expensive harbor-side cafe, during which the rain abruptly started to pour down from the overcast sky.
And the rain continued to come down. We stood stranded under a tree, the leaves of which soon became saturated with water which then transferred on to us who were hoping to find shelter under it. Standing water began to fill the streets and cars and buses passing through were generating sizable sprays onto the sidewalks which were now empty. "This is pretty typical," Kevin informed me, as rainwater dripped down the end of his nose. We bailed on our tree position and found a crowded hotel canopy to stand underneath until the rain finally began to subside and we evac'd in order to reach the ferry loading area where drivers were pulling their cars onto the first and second decks. A convenient automated kiosk dispensed our tickets to us and we passed through the a futuristic automated gate contraption to enter the bridge which transported us to the 11-deck, Class 1A icebreaker Silja Galaxy, holding 2,800 passengers and 420 automobiles and powered by four Finnish manufactured Wärtsilä V-32 diesel engines, totaling about 35,000 hp.
Our room was on the ninth deck, a 3 x 2 m enclosure with a bathroom, window, and two single beds separated by a small walkway. We ditched our bags in the room and bolted for a spot with a good view on the upper deck. The sun was setting and the air was cooling down. All of the surfaces on the boat were cold to the touch, giving a subtle discomfort. But, we were now at sea, a new adventure which overcame the discomfort. Dusk set in as the big ferry rumbled through the archipelago, passing islands small and large, speckled with colorful summer cottages (interestingly the ferries are engineered to create very little wake to minimize shoreline erosion on the islands in the archipelago). After an hour or so, the dusk was finally drawing down to darkness and only the flashing red and green navigational beacons lining the shipping channel were visible. Time for a beer. We found a spot at one of the many pubs on the concessions level of the ferry. Two Guiness', please. A nice looking gypsy troubador, who we later found out was Hungarian, performed American pop songs from the 1960-70s, adding a little "yee-haw" to the end of every song. Two more Guiness'. A couple of hours of that, the boat clipping along now on the open sea just outside of the Åland islands. On my way back to the room I stopped in at the performance auditorium to find a lively scene of 20 or so of my shipmates getting down on the dance floor to "Billy Jean". All ages- grandmothers, fathers, teenage daughters; and it didn't appear that they were slowing down, even at 2am with about four hours until we landed in Finland. Tempted to join in the festivities, but utterly desecrated by jet-lag and Guiness, I retired to my cabin and quickly drifted into sleep to the faint rumble of the boat hull breaking through open water. A few hours of shuteye before landfall.
While in the neighborhood, I figured I would make my first visit to my new friends at the Swedish Fulbright Commission on Vasagatan (gatan = street) just down the way from Sergel's. A ride up a very Swedish elevator (just big enough for the two of us) and we arrived at the office. Eric and Monica were very welcoming and gave me a quick rundown on the preparations that they had made, including a Swedish bank account (not easy to get apparently) and personal ID number (also difficult to obtain). In addition, they have organized monthly social events during which the Fulbrighters will gather. I'll be bugging these folks quite a bit over the next year, thanks Eric and Monica!
We wandered hastily around the city center for a bit, walking past modern clothing stores and office buildings. As we continued about I noticed a couple of things about Stockholm that seemed different from other cities that I have seen. Everywhere we went things seemed very clean and orderly. No trash in the gutters, cigarette butts on the sidewalk, even the garbage cans and surrounding areas were tidy. There was some amount of vehicle traffic, and by this time presumably most people were already at work, but I didn't see backed up traffic or even large numbers of cars that we might see near the business center of an American city. Much of the vehicle traffic appeared to be municipal and service vehicles: garbage trucks, delivery, taxis. Most people were on foot or bicycle, and the folks that were driving were very courteous to us non-motorized cats. These, along with the docile and unobnoxious people, made Stockholm a comfortable and welcoming place, which was quite nice given that I had been in the country for just over one day. Lastly, there didn't appear to be any homeless or pandhandlers, or maybe just not in the city center. Possibly all products of high tax rates and a generous welfare system? I have much to learn.
Continue. We sauntered into Hötorget ("huhr-tor-yet", haymarket) where a vibrant fruit and vegetable market greeted us with lingonberries and bounties of bright yellow kanterella mushrooms. We pecked on some berries in front of the Konserthuset (Stockholm Concert Hall), which was housing a Banksy exhibition and will later host the Nobel Prize Ceremony (interesting contrast).
A hop over the bridge and we entered Gamla stan ("old town"), a small island between Norrmalm and Södermalm (the "north" and "south" islands), home to many of the iconic narrow cobble streets and medieval architecture which dates back to the 13th century, including the Nobel Museum, the Stockholm Cathedral, the Riddarholmen Church (burial site of Swedish monarchs), and the Kungliga slottet, Sweden's baroque royal palace. Gamla stan is definitely an area to devote a good amount of time to: admiring at the well preserved architecture, people-watching at outdoor cafes in open plazas, and visiting the many historic sites. Despite the tourists and novelty gift shops, I will be back to Gamla stan. But onward we go, time was short and still more to see before the end of the day!
And the rain continued to come down. We stood stranded under a tree, the leaves of which soon became saturated with water which then transferred on to us who were hoping to find shelter under it. Standing water began to fill the streets and cars and buses passing through were generating sizable sprays onto the sidewalks which were now empty. "This is pretty typical," Kevin informed me, as rainwater dripped down the end of his nose. We bailed on our tree position and found a crowded hotel canopy to stand underneath until the rain finally began to subside and we evac'd in order to reach the ferry loading area where drivers were pulling their cars onto the first and second decks. A convenient automated kiosk dispensed our tickets to us and we passed through the a futuristic automated gate contraption to enter the bridge which transported us to the 11-deck, Class 1A icebreaker Silja Galaxy, holding 2,800 passengers and 420 automobiles and powered by four Finnish manufactured Wärtsilä V-32 diesel engines, totaling about 35,000 hp.
Our room was on the ninth deck, a 3 x 2 m enclosure with a bathroom, window, and two single beds separated by a small walkway. We ditched our bags in the room and bolted for a spot with a good view on the upper deck. The sun was setting and the air was cooling down. All of the surfaces on the boat were cold to the touch, giving a subtle discomfort. But, we were now at sea, a new adventure which overcame the discomfort. Dusk set in as the big ferry rumbled through the archipelago, passing islands small and large, speckled with colorful summer cottages (interestingly the ferries are engineered to create very little wake to minimize shoreline erosion on the islands in the archipelago). After an hour or so, the dusk was finally drawing down to darkness and only the flashing red and green navigational beacons lining the shipping channel were visible. Time for a beer. We found a spot at one of the many pubs on the concessions level of the ferry. Two Guiness', please. A nice looking gypsy troubador, who we later found out was Hungarian, performed American pop songs from the 1960-70s, adding a little "yee-haw" to the end of every song. Two more Guiness'. A couple of hours of that, the boat clipping along now on the open sea just outside of the Åland islands. On my way back to the room I stopped in at the performance auditorium to find a lively scene of 20 or so of my shipmates getting down on the dance floor to "Billy Jean". All ages- grandmothers, fathers, teenage daughters; and it didn't appear that they were slowing down, even at 2am with about four hours until we landed in Finland. Tempted to join in the festivities, but utterly desecrated by jet-lag and Guiness, I retired to my cabin and quickly drifted into sleep to the faint rumble of the boat hull breaking through open water. A few hours of shuteye before landfall.
Very beautiful...
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