It’s been nearly 3 weeks since I returned from beautiful (but rainy) Sweden. This post (and the ones that will follow) has been a long time coming but coming to write it hasn’t been particularly easy. Not because I didn’t have the time of my life, but because remembering it all has been a) difficult (we did A LOT) and b) reminded me that I’m not there right now. The latter breaks my heart a little bit – a feeling that I’m sure any Wanderluster knows well.
As the title of this blogpost may suggest, the next 1,000 blogposts will be about Sweden. I might even re-name my blog. ‘Connie went to Sweden that one time and won’t shut up about it’. I’m not sure if it’s because I did a lot whilst I was there, or because of all the drama in the lead up to, and during the holiday; but I have a lot to say about the place. This post will ‘set the scene’ of the first evening and the rest will be about specific places I went. I think. Do let me know when it becomes boring. Actually, I don’t care. So let’s start with everyone’s favourite: the drama. I’ve written it as a list of thanks for you:
- Thanks Monarch airlines for going bust 4 days before our flight.
- Thanks train cancellations.
- Thanks Swiss International Airlines for losing my luggage for 24 hours.
- Thanks Stockholm Central Station for your mediocre signage which meant that me and friend couldn’t find each other.
- Thanks Google Maps for misdirecting us to the wrong apartment.
- Thanks (genuinely) to our Airbnb host for coming to meet us at the station… but we were already stood outside the wrong apartment.
- Thanks AirFrance for going on strike so that my friend had to rearrange her flights AGAIN.
There. That wasn’t too bad. That was a bit like therapy. I find that ‘thanking’ all those involved acknowledges that we survived the experience, but equally, it gives a passive-aggressive nod to the stress they put us through. However, we did see a niche in the market and have considered setting ourselves up as Holiday Disaster Consultants.
My journey (up to the point where they lost my luggage and didn’t even apologise) was delightful. The highlight was being in charge of the emergency exit en route to to Switzerland; I have never felt such authority. It was like fulfilling my dream of becoming cabin crew for an hour and a bit. Not sure how much use I was as I spent most of that time asleep but hey ho. Food-wise, I was given nommy snacks on both flights including a yummy kish. All good plane snacks are worthy of a mention. I also made a plane friend who sat next to me on both flights – a young chap who worked as a holiday rep who was flying all the way to Stockholm to meet a lovely lady he’d met that summer. I hope they end up spending the rest of their lives together, but not in Stockholm because it’s far too expensive and I can’t even imagine what house prices would be like.
Our apartment (when we finally found it) was located in a lovely residential suburb of the city, just a few stops on the metro from Central station. We were surrounded by other apartments and lots of autumnal, leafy avenues. The downside was that there weren’t really many places to eat nearby, so dinner was often on the ‘mainland’ or on one of the surrounding islands. Having said that, we were around a 5-10 minute walk away from a supermarket which was very handy, considering my circumstances.
Having found out that I only had the contents of my hand luggage with me for at least 24 hours (our Airbnb host gave me a right scare story about how he waited 6 weeks for his to turn up), we made an immediate trip to the local supermarket. Oh my days, it was so beautiful. I bloody love a supermarket abroad – so many things to look at and touch. Supermarkets are like museums of anthropology; they tell you so much about the culture in which people live; what they eat, what they wear, how they cook, how much they earn. Dreading that I was going to have to wear the same set of clothes again the following day, I was the most relieved when I found A SALE RAIL. BOOM: Jumper dress for £8. I also bought a pack of pants and spare tights. Oh, and a questionable t-shirt to wear as PJs. We also treated ourselves to D’aim ice creams.
After buying too much and for the fear of bankrupting ourselves earlier than anticipated, we decided to go and hunt for dinner. Not literally obvs, we’re not barbarians. Now, apparently, according to the Millennial’s Bible Buzzfeed, the Swedes love a burger. So a burger we did have. We stumbled upon Lily’s Burger which is pretty much burger heaven. Don’t let the retro American Diner decor fool you: they mean business. I opted for ‘The Bad’, because: Sriracha mayonnaise. The best surprise were the cheeseburger spring rolls – patty meat and american cheese wrapped in filo and fried. I am taking this back to The House of Wan. The burgers were most excellent; perfectly pink with the perfect balance of accompaniments. Nobody likes a burger that is 50% salad. We shared those fries by the way. And no, we did not finish it all.
So, to sum up our first evening, I’ve put together a series of observations:
#1: Bottles of ketchup are huge in Sweden
#2: Hipster beers are prevalent
#3: ‘infart’ is a word (meaning ‘entrance’) – sounds like an oxymoron in English.
#4: This was how I found the cheese the next morning. I was on holiday with a monster.
Coming up next: Our first proper day in STHLM.