In conversation, I've been struggling to express the pure joy we felt in Stockholm. In two busy days, we fell in love with the beautiful, exciting, welcoming city. In the following (many--sorry) pictures and stories, I hope to unveil the Architectural Gem, the Crown of Scandinavia, the Glory of the North, the Great Nobility of the Human Race...But don't worry, I won't leave out the quirky stories that we always gather while traveling.
It all started with our overnight cruise ship from Helsinki to Stockholm. (By the way, the sun set at 10:30 and was up again at 3:30!) After checking in, we feasted on a traditional smörgåsbord. Because tasting the regional food is a highlight of travel for me, I was thrilled at the sight of the huge buffet. We sampled the varieties of herring and bread, gobbled up Swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce, I tried caviar for the first time, Chris discovered the Mexican food table, and it all, happily for Daisy, ended with ice cream cones. We retired to our bunks and early the next morning I snapped this view from our window of the Swedish archipelago before sneaking to the sauna:
Once we disembarked, we kept our chins up after the Hilton overbooked and shuttled us to a new hotel, and we tried to find a quick lunch. I don't mean to be dwelling on food, but this food creation both shocked and awed:
It is called a tunnbrodsrulle, which is one or two grilled hot dogs resting on a bed of mashed potatoes, drizzled with ketchup and mustard, covered with a shrimp & beet salad, stuffed with iceberg lettuce, and all rolled up in a Swedish flatbread, cone-style. How could a flimsy plastic fork handle this oozing pocket of random ingredients? Let's just say that we've made it at home a couple times since we've been home!
We squinted in the northern glare and meandered to the center of the city, passing by the imposing riverside Opera House (pictured below) and crossing the bridge into the old town. Practically everything overlooked a crystal-clear sea or a lake or a river...
This lively medieval square is in the heart of Gamla Stan, the old town. I can just imagine the Christmas markets it hosts. A famous Stockholm Bloodbath took place here in 1520; romantically, a young escapee, Gustav Vasa, later returned to become Sweden's first king and leader of the Swedish Renaissance.
One night while sipping yogurt on a bench here, we watched a costumed young man with guitar approach a pair of Asian gals. Although they told him that they didn't really understand English, he only spoke more slowly with simple phrases, insisting on communicating. He gently described himself: "As you can see, I'm dressed [hopeful smile!] as a Swedish poet, and I have some songs to sing, and I want you [point] to hold this lyrics sheet for me and could you [hands her a digital camera] please take some pictures of me?" We smelled a scam and watched the events unfold. The polite young man reclined by the fountain, strummed meaninglessly on his guitar, and mumbled a song in Swedish. [Applause.] An accomplice or two videotaped and took more pictures. Next on the set list: a belting, off-key rendition of "Do you hear the people sing" from Les Miserables. [Laughter.] The giggling Asian girls gave back the camera and left, but then returned because they wanted a picture with the guy. No robberies, no mischief. I wonder where that video ended up and what the point was. Chris and I really enjoyed the show, and you'll often hear us refer to ourselves now as Swedish poets.
Sweden's Parliament (pictured here) is separated from the Royal Palace by a tiny canal. I am beginning to adore constitutional monarchies. With them, the king or queen can attend a World Cup game and lend the event a certain glamor. With the US, Vice President Joe Biden attends. No glamor there.
Well, speaking of royalty - Daisy perched atop Chris' shoulders to enjoy the daily, elaborate Changing of the Guard ceremony at the palace. It begins with two troops parading in from across the city, a group of foot soldiers and a mounted band. They shuffle positions, trumpet merry tunes, march through the crowds, and in general make a royal spectacle. We tried leaving early (after maybe 20 minutes?) but Daisy begged for more horsies.
And now, I can't go any further without sharing the good news of our favorite royal couple: Crown Princess Victoria and the now Prince Daniel (they met because he was her personal trainer!). When we visited, their much-anticipated wedding was only weeks away. It was to be held on the same date as Victoria's parents, in the same church in the old town (2 pictures down). Their engagement picture was plastered in every shop window, special engagement chocolate boxes and china sets were produced, and a separate charity fund was established for all proceeds. Another lovely thing about royalty. After a certain amount of time in the city, it was unavoidable: we needed to purchase something to support the cause. We settled on a magnet which will forever adorn our fridge.
The spectacular 13th century Storkyrkan cathedral, full of strong brick and glistening gold, is obviously perfect for a wedding but it also houses the tomb of the Swedish reformer Olaus Petri. He turned this cathedral from Catholic to Protestant while guiding none other than Gustav Vasa in the Lutheranization of the country.
Fast forwarding to Germany...I camped out on the couch on the day of the wedding from pre-start to ultimate finish. (Poor Chris was at a conference so had to catch up on Youtube when he got back.) Daisy and I, on the other hand, reveled in the number of authentic crowns, a real princess, and people that actually live in all these palaces we've seen across Europe. It was a gorgeous and heartfelt ceremony; Daniel Westling teared up endearingly during the vows. I can't wait until they have kids. Here is a picture I stole off the internet of the united families, a true fairytale wedding:
P.S. We definitely had Prince Daniel's glasses in mind when Chris was shopping for new ones last week. Pretty similar!
Moving on. This building houses the Swedish Academy upstairs, which awards the Nobel Prize for Literature every year, and the Nobel Museum downstairs, which we toured. We learned about Alfred Nobel, the Stockholm-born inventor of dynamite, and his desire to award prizes to people who had made very recent contributions or showed promise. (The staff strongly supports Obama's controversial peace prize.) I was also struck by the creativity of the distributors of the prize and how they successfully handled the off-site introduction of the economics prize.
In the children's wing of the Nobel museum, there were stations devoted to each prize-winning field. I performed a puppet show and Chris took the opportunity to build a carbonic acid molecule with Daisy.
A tiny little statue in the Finnish (yes, not a typo) churchyard legendarily honoring orphans. People knit caps for him in the winter.
After our drinkable yogurt we decided on some Mexican food, which was not noteworthy. I did snap a quick shot of this free appetizer they brought to our table, though: 4 tortilla chips. We each nibbled a single chip and then pretended to be too full for the last one...
Stockholm's Metro is called the T-bana and they are exciting, artistic wonderlands. We honestly bought some tickets one night just to station-hop and admire the color and creativity.
Centuries ago, European artists were commissioned to prepare great works for churches. Today in Scandinavia, these artistic masterpieces are not religious but secular buildings. I have selected a few images from our tour of Stockholm's grand City Hall, built in 1923.
This hall is in the main entryway and serves as the venue for the annual Nobel banquet. Prize winners and their guests process down this stairway. Maybe we will get to participate someday. (Don't tell Chris I said that, it will stress him out!)
This large hall is entirely filled with sparkling gold mosaic depicting Swedish heroes and events. The best thing is that this is the venue for the annual Nobel
ball following the banquet. I think that it would be heaven to dance here....hint hint.
This is where the actual city council meetings take place. Breathtaking. 101 members serve on the city council, so they have a built-in tie breaker. As you can see, the detailed ceiling is supposed to be reminiscent of an inverted Viking ship.
Upon exiting the city hall, we were struck again by how water can beautify a city.
In 1628, the famous
Vasa (recognize the name?) warship, with a terrifying 2 full decks of cannons, sunk 20 minutes into her maiden voyage and stayed at the bottom of the Baltic until 1961, when first-class marine archaeologists took her up and restored her.
It turns out that the low salt level of the Baltic made it possible for the
Vasa to become the best-preserved ship of its age. The restorers' commitment to historical accuracy and to financing such a fringe project ending up impressing us more than the ship itself.
Next, we spent more time in time-travel mode in Skansen, Sweden's open-air folk museum. Since we liked Finland's so much, we reserved plenty of time to wander the grounds.
In comparison, Finland's museum maintained a more rustic feel. Sweden's was almost like a zoo: besides this bellowing cow and other farm animals, we saw northern animals like reindeer and elk, both with new babies.
I herded my family front and center at the folk dance and music show, bearing coffee and sweet rolls. I was ready. As the fiddlers started tuning, my eager eyes met Chris' and I announced, "If they ask for volunteers, I want to go up, OK?" Half an hour later, my wish came true.
We circled back from the museums down a long promenade, hugging a big harbor. You can't see it, but Chris is holding a tough black licorice whip that wound up lasting us a couple days.
We followed our ears - and noses - to Kungstradgarden, the huge public park and meeting place. Tons of food tents and bands were set up because of Restaurant Days, which runs for a week every summer. Good timing for us! It was crowded yet easygoing and relaxed. It was in this moment that it became very easy to imagine happily relocating to Stockholm.
Our hotel was attached to an ice bar. Not just any ice bar, but the first permanent, year-round ice bar in the world. This means that the walls, tables, and dishes are made of ice from a river in the Swedish Lapland.
Mostly out of curiosity, Chris and I took turns at the bar while Daisy got ready for bed. Included in your ticket is the use of a huge furry parka with gloves and an Absolut drink. I ordered one with lingonberries. As I finished it off and took a test bite out of my glass, I wished that I could be sharing the novel experience with Chris.
How is it possible to both sleep and hold up a book? Totally wiped out.
I'm probably a bad fan to even think this, but I'm worried that this is the last celebration we'll witness. Argentina will be tough to beat on Saturday!
