Stockholm
Well here we are again, another trip to a country I’ve not been before: Sweden. After blagging my way through Fast Track security and necking a couple of complimentary drinks at duty free before 8am, I boarded the plane to Stockholm feeling slightly woozy but content and excited for my mini break. I should explain that one of my closest friends is getting married in the south of the country, so I tagged on an extra day to turn it into a little holiday. I mean, why not?
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I’ve landed. I’m in Stockholm. And apparently I’m Swedish, well I look it anyway. Tourists have asked me for directions and anyone I’ve dealt with is surprised I don’t speak the lingo. I’ve been here like 2 hours and I’m practically a local. Pow. My reception here couldn’t be further opposite from what I experienced in India if I tried. Ironically I got a bit lost myself when trying to locate the hostel I’d booked near Vasagatan (Central Station) which couldn’t really have been easier to find, (sad fact is I still struggle with my lefts and rights).
After checking in and dumping my stuff in the hostel (the hostel is epic by the way) I decided to take a boat out to the Archipelago Islands. I walked down to the port and jumped on a water taxi/ferry bound for Vaxholm and in true Sarah style found a sunny spot to top up my tan. This country is gorgeous, absolutely stunning, so green and fresh and a million miles away from grey and dull city life. After speaking with a German couple and being in complete awe of the gorgeous scenery that Sweden has to offer, I decided that rather than alighting at Vaxholm I would just stay on the boat to go straight back to Stockholm (I do love a boat ride and I was pushed for time.)
I moved location to sit in a sunnier spot whilst moored up at the dock, and it dawned on me that there was a slight possibility the boat I was on wasn’t going back the way it came, that it might be going deeper into the Islands. As I got off my seat to investigate, the boat started to pull away from the dock, too late. Sheepishly I walked toward the boat staff and they all started laughing. Explaining that I “forgot” to get off the boat as I was enjoying the scenery so much, the banter began. “No more boats back to Stockholm” they said, *insert moment of panic* then they fessed up they were kidding. After an announcement over the tannoy in Swedish (which was quite frankly unnecessary but all the remaining passengers had a right laugh) and a lot of walkie talkie action, they told me to get off the next stop which was essentially a jetty on a rock. The boat left me there and another (much larger) boat with a shed load of people on it pulled in with two rather dishy Swedes on the bow shouting instructions in Swedish at me from across the water. Stranded blonde tourist who can’t speak the language? How embarrassing. The massive boat pulled up alongside the patch of land I was on for me to literally jump on to it, which was first going to Voxholm and then Stockholm. Sheepishly I meandered through a ton of confused passengers to find a sunny spot at the back (of course) and decided to stay put and not get off ever again until I was at my final destination, or they forced me off. More embarrassingly one of the Swedes came to check on me before the boat left Vaxholm to make sure I hadn’t “forgotten” to get off again. Awkward. The boat ride back was relatively uneventful in comparison, apart from finding the Swedish version of Paul Chuckle (sans Barry), plenty of time to just take in the landscape and relax. God what am I like…? (Don’t answer that).
Back on dry land, I headed towards the Palace to do a bit of sightseeing, but being so late in the day at this point everything was unfortunately closed. Lucky for me Stockholm has a “Festival of Culture” on this weekend which essentially means free live music and beer. Free live music + beer = a happy Sarah (she’d be even happier if the beer was free too) so I decided to head toward the nearest stage, conveniently adjacent to the Palace.
After a while I decided I should probably actually see some of the city before the evening set in, so I ventured into the old city and went for a long wander, meandering down little lanes and checking out potential dinner spots for the meal I had my heart set on. It’s a beautiful city, waterways and rivers everywhere. Living in London, I’m (fortunately) used to going on holiday to destinations cheaper than my beloved home town. This is not the case for Sweden (for the most part) and unfortunately being crap at maths doesn’t help either when it comes to the old exchange rate and working out whether a restaurant is expensive or not in comparison to the others around it. Meatballs. That’s all I could think out. Meatballs, as I wandered the streets with my calculator out. I ended up almost back where I started up in the main city before I decided to plonk myself down on a seat. The waitress kindly sat me in a corner (table for 1 please), I didn’t even need a menu. Meatballs. Meatballs. Meatballs (and a glass of tap water, tak! Oh and some creamed Dil potatoes please. Tak! ) They were DELICIOUS. Made from Elk and Reindeer, I had the most divine meatball dinner of my life, step aside Beef, there’s new Game in town. The meat was rich and succulent so only a few balls were required to fill me up, and they came with a side of Lingonberry sauce (mouth watering) and the most AMAZING creamed potatoes with Dil which I devoured in record time. The meal came to about £12 including tip so not too bad at all. Feeling insanely full and a little Viking-esque I trundled back to the hostel to see who was about for a night cap before leaving Stockholm to travel south to Tranas the following morning.
As I said before, the hostel I stayed in was pretty epic. For £18 a night I had a decent bunk, locker for my bag, access to private shower/toilet cubicles, access to a SAUNA and it had it’s own cafe, kitchen, iMacs, and more communal spaces than you can shake a stick at, it was massive. The hostel didn’t have it’s own bar so I had to hit up the local 7/11 for some cans, which came in about £1.50 each for Carling. After sharing beers with a new friend from Madrid, I used the facilities then went to bed, ready for my 6am wake up call and 2 hour train journey south to Tranas.
Stockholm it was short but sweet but I really liked it, hopefully I’ll get to go back sometime and actually do some real exploring more off the beaten track (and by that I don’t mean being stranded on an island again!)
Adjo!
SJ xx
SJ Adventures 