And Outside The Rain Fell...

Stockholm again, waking up in the ferry docking at 6 am, counting crows over time zones and getting 5 people to check out of the deck. It was now much colder, much cloudier than we had last been here. Contemplating the 6-7 km walk up to the Central Station gave me quite the shivers. I had almost got down to asking for a hike, and in retrospect, I should have. I mean, what the heck, what could possibly have gone wrong?

We took the long long walk – a heavy backpack, a bottle of water and a winter coat, my uber cool muffler along with ear pads – and I was all set to go. Walking across highways, cross roads, waiting for endless pedestrian signals to turn green and a growling stomach, more cross roads, more avenues, more signals – we trudged along. We had our first pit-stop at this beautiful park, and resting for a while, Patwaji came up with this stupid silly step-counting game, and as much as I hated the game, it was fun! We shared a “chota” pack of Parle-G on the way, arriving at Central station, heaving, our calves begging for rest.

Picking up a relatively underpriced coffee latte at Burger King, which was surprisingly very refreshing, we all headed to the Subway, getting an awesome bargain deal there. We did some “jugad” with the ketchup (a Sub just doesn’t taste good with Ketchup, and no one seems to stock Ketchup here!). We walked all around the city, admiring moored yachts, sail boats (including one called the Black Pearl), pretty pretty woman, fast cars and rip-off bike rentals. We walked across the Seansen bridge, and it was suddenly as though we are in an entirely different part of Sweden – the majestic Nordiska Museet (Nordic Museum) greeting us at the entrance of this royal park – the Djurharden. This museum was housed in this massive castle, and we were pleasantly surprised when we discovered that the museum would be free that day after 4 p.m. Every 6 Euros saved is another Sub, and we were more than glad to come back later knocking at its doors.

Our next stop – Skansen. A huge, huge open air museum, this giant spread across an entire hill, a miniature Sweden, Sweden at its best, almost a theme park. Skansen housed everything that was Swedish, in fact, everything Nordic, from homes of the Nomadic Sami tribes to ancient Finn houses, from exotic animals from the Tundra belt to glass blowing shops – everything here was wonderfully recreated, overlooking the city of Stockholm.

Walking across cobblestoned paths to live size Swedish Manor houses painted red – their exotic tiled black sloping roofs and the gardens flanking it; climbing bell towers and watching a tiny stream lazily drift by the entire length of the park – the entire effect was surreal, surprisingly soothing. The Europe you would dream about, the Europe you would see in movies.

I also met this Sami lady – Morit, who explained the ways of their people, of their indigenous traditions and their ancestral nomadic culture. Following reindeers, rearing them, living in a hut made of many poles that kept the cold away in winters and the insides warm, with chutes for smoke to go out without snow falling in. It was brilliant, their ways humble, and completely interloped with nature.

We walked across to the most exotic zoo I’ve witnessed yet – reindeers and brown bears, elks and grey owls – housed in habitats that were painstakingly recreated to match that of their wild cousins’. Having walked at least 18 kilometres from dawn, we were now terribly tired, crossing miniature market place, ancient chapels and windmills, many summer farmsteads, watching old carpenters and a live glass blowing unit from up close. We witnessed molten sand being converted to beautiful globes of gold, in innumerable colours, shapes, designs and contours. As evening drew on, it grew far colder, and having experienced much colder temperatures up north, we were here without jackets, shivering and exposing ourselves to every bit of the sun before it set for the day.

Out of Skansen, we visited the massive Vasa museum – Vasa – a 17th century sail galley that sunk an hour after its first sail. Much commemorated during its time for its might and the power it would bring to the Swede navy, it sunk off the cost of Stockholm to the bottom of the Saltsjon Sea. Miraculously lifted in 1961 – 333 years after it first sunk, the Vasa is now preserved in a museum that is more engineering than history, 500 sensor points that constantly map every sign of decay, the massive ship standing tall in the museums main hall, with galleries of artefacts and recreations all around.

Magnificent.

Old wood, the structure almost the size of a football field, most of the guns and turrets still intact, flanked with wooden busts of ferocious lions, Roman gods and ancient mythological creatures, it seems every bit of the Vasa was built to invoke fear in the enemy. Only one tiny detail went wrong, the hull was apparently badly conceived, and top heavy, the ship could not withstand the winds it encountered. The artifacts built for the museum are mindboggling – from movies to huge huge globes, from a reconstruction of the entire deck to recreating the faces of those who were then on board, this museum was so much science, so much art, history, Nordic geography and politics - all packed into one brilliant entertainer, all coming together as the Vasa.

Bansi, who had joined us for this museum, had to leave then so that she could shop for us. The four of went to the Nordisk Museet – we had a good 45 minutes before the museum closed, and we wished to make the most of what we were getting for “gratuit”.

The museum was accompanied by a superb audio guide, and although the museum claimed to be a Nordic museum, it was entirely about Swedish culture – its progression through the ages.

We finally took the long walk back to the Central Station, the weather now extremely chilly, reaching Bansi’s home dead tired. And bless her, for she had a steaming hot meal ready for us –Pasta, French fries and Rasam rice, a weird but utterly delicious combination for 4 starved vegetarians in Stockholm.

Hit the sack. Period.

Stockholm. Finally. The satisfaction of reaching this place was immense. Getting up to the last few drops of water in the morning at 6 am, I folded up my jacket and blanket on which I’d spend the night, rather comfortably, crouched across 2 seats. The realization was now creeping in, I was actually backpacking across Europe, with little planning done and a lot of enthusiasm.

Bansi came to pick us up, and we were all immensely happy to see her. Bansi and Tardi make a great couple, and when she first saw Tardi, her smile said it all.

Switching to the metro, we went to the University Station, her hostel block a few hundred metres away from there. Wide roads bordered with sprawling meadows (including woolly cows that looked absolutely dazed), few cars and nearly no people around. Bansi’s room was cosy with a beautiful view overlooking tall coniferous trees and lush green meadows.


Bansi actually treated us to bread and baked beans(which PritS loves), and, as Barney would say it, wait-for-it.... idlis!!!

Rava idlis in Stockholm, I was already loving Stockholm, and bless Bansi for providing the ultimate feast to a pseudo-south-Indian.

It was Bansi’s turn in the dorm to clean the kitchen, and we all pitched in to mop floors, do the dishes, dust the cutlery and pans. It’s all brilliant, learning the ropes, doing things you’d never imagined you would do in a totally new country.


Bansi guided us to a nearby cove, very close to the apartment, and it was breathtaking, to say the least. She was to join us soon, and we walked there trying to find our way there. Stopping by at a children’s play park, PritS and me were see-sawing on a pseudo-swing that resembled a wooden log.






Walking further, amidst huge trees flanked by meadows and a road passing through it, you may want to imagine our delight in finding a beautiful inlet of water, coming up from I think is the sea. We were greeted there by two huge Alaskan wolves with a lady walking them. We took turns petting the dogs, and they seemed to bask in the attention we were giving them.



Photographing along the banks of the cove and watching the numerous contrails criss-crossing the sky, as crystal clear water lapped the bank.


Walking back, Bansi took us to Gamla Stan (old town), one of the most beautiful cities I’ve witnessed yet – saffron and terra coated buildings comfortably mingling with deep blue water and a skyline dotted with towering church spires. The lanes were all cobblestoned, flanked with historic buildings on one side and several open air cafeteria, ice cream parlours and souvenir shops on the other. We could see several Indians around, sharing a familiar smile with them in a completely unfamiliar country. My first impression of Gamla Stan was old buildings that almost seemed to fall onto each other, separated by narrow, almost claustrophobia-inducing roads and bright orange buildings.






We walked by the Riddarholmskyrkan Cathedral next, where the Swedish royalty is buried. Its central tower rose several feet into the air, made of wrought iron and giving it almost an eerie feeling. Made of red bricks, Bansi told us this church had been burnt down and rebuilt several times, almost of all them accidental fires. Standing tall against a background of aircraft contrails, staring into the tower gave an awe-inspiring feeling, of the might of the bygone Swede kings and what they all ended up being. Philosophical? Almost. Too bad it was closed from September to May. Nevertheless, it was reputedly the only church that has charged believers and non believers for entry – for the past 200 years!



A statue of Gustaf III brought about a huge smile on my face; the mighty kind shared my name(well, my chosen moniker for Europe). Lucky him. To all the Gustavs and Gauravs of the world, lucky you.

Walking around, we went about the garden of the former Parliament, Riddarhuset, also called the House of Nobility, a pretty building with an ornamental and neatly laid out garden, with huge conical trees. Walking around souvenir shops and checking coffee prices, we reached the Palace of the Royals, Kungliga Slottet, the entrance of which was an impressive building with a baroque facade, lined with several French windows, surrounding a huge cobblestoned courtyard.

Smartly dressed marine guards in blue suits, a glistening rifle and baggy green berets stood guard to the palace, with remarkable stillness when they were not patrolling the palace. Oops, almost forgot. Today was the first time I spent money on something non-essential – and what better than icecream to do the honours.

We witnessed the Change of Guards ceremony. It wasn’t too elaborate, but their performance against the facade of the royal palace, amidst ancient howitzers and the near circular courtyard made it look imposing. The marine band however took the show away with their performance, with the xylophone being one of the favourite instruments I witnessed today.





PritS then introduced us to his delightful friend Naina, who walked us around the commercial districts of Stockholm, skipping the tiny maze of cobbled streets for the frenzy of localities basking about in the last few days of bright sunshine. She was familiar with the places, loaned me a few Kroners for my souvenir, grabbed a huge glass of coffee and seemed all chirpy and happy!



We returned to Bansi’s place soon, and promising to come back soon, took off soon for our ocean cruise to Helsinki, Finland. The first sight of the cruise ship – huge, mammoth, gigantic, big! Picture perfect, it was one of those cruise liners I always wished I’d travel in some day. We were welcomed on board by enthusiastic attendants, who positioned themselves (with their quirky smiles) at the entrance, clicking photographs of passengers boarding the ship. Walking through the labyrinths of corridors and what seemed like an entire mall inside the cruise, we immediately dumped our bags into our sea facing cabins, and rushed up to the deck, to wave a goodbye to Stockholm. Atleast for now.




Standing on the deck, the wind blowing across the face, and deep blue water frothing by the sides of the ship steaming through it, it inevitably, pardon the cliché, reminded me of the Titanic.



We could spot beautiful little houses housed on the many little islands that formed past of Stockholm’s coastline. Most houses looked like summer homes of rich people who could afford them – coloured nearly always in a distant shade of red, and black tiled roofs, surrounded by lush coniferous trees. It was a sight meant to be enjoyed.

Chatting about on the deck for long, we went down to the Promenade after watching the sun set over the horizon.







Greeted almost immediately by a live Swede-Finn singer, we walked from shop to shop, checking out expensive perfumes (Boss, Gucci, Bulgari, Burberry), casinos, pubs and restaurants. The sauna above also looked attractive, but we decided to give it a skip.


I have also finally begun to think of things in Euros, don’t find the need to convert constantly to INR. The thumb-rule: anything below 1 Euro is inexpensive.

We witnessed a performance by superb circus artists – with a knack for getting the attention of what I would have assumed to be the rich and snooty crowd. They also gladly posed for the shutterbugs, myself included.


We returned to our cabins to enjoy the cold dinner of baked beans and bread, which still was sumptuous. Bansi slept away immediately after dinner, while the 4 of us crept around, watching old folks dance to retro music in the ballroom. The night culminated in the moonlight club, where karaoke night enthralled the local audience for hours before actually clubbing began. By this time time, I could hardly keep my eyes open, falling asleep even while walking.

Somewhere, reading back, I know that they way I’ve described the things I’ve saw does not do justice to the magnificence and grandeur of the sights, but I’ve done my best. Now, all prepared for Helsinki. Over and Out.

P.S. I take credit for many of the photographs on this blog, although not all. Several of them are PritS', a wonderful abstract photograph, with a knack for observing things everyone else misses.