Eden in Sweden
MALCOLM ROGERS takes at trip to the captivating Scandinavian city of Stockholm — and finds that the Swedes are certainly no turnips when it comes to providing great weekend breaks.
Scandinavian Airlines used to have a very nifty slogan: “SAS,” it proclaimed grandly, “Navigators to the world since it was flat.”
Succinct and true, because, of course, the Vikings were amongst the world’s first great explorers. Just over a thousand years ago the population of this neck of the woods spent the best part of two centuries running amok and terrorising Europe.
However, although they weren’t the most subtle of colonisers, these axe-wielding Norsemen laid down the first part of the Swedish Empire, which at one time stretched all the way to Saint Barts in the Caribbean. Somewhat inexplicably the Swedes sold St. Barts to the French in 1877, but by then Stockholm’s pre-eminence as the capital of the empire was assured.
However, the path of world domination never did run smoothly, and today in Stockholm a truly wonderful example of this can be witnessed at the Vasa Museum. The museum is named after the almost perfectly preserved warship contained therein. In 1628 the overly ambitious and top heavy ship sank in the harbour on its maiden voyage. I can’t explain why this happened, as I’m not an expert in marine engineering — but then, it seems, neither was the person who built the Vasa.
Gazing at the boat on a beautiful spring afternoon I felt a strong bond between myself and the unknown Swedish boat designer. As a young lad had I not sent countless numbers of my own designed sailing boats to their doom? Consigned thousands of toy sailors to an early, watery grave due to my inability to grasp the basic principles of marine science?
I felt strangely uplifted by the Vasa and its failure to get beyond the harbour wall — failure is always so much more interesting than success. I had one last admiring glance at this most beautiful failure, and with spirits greatly buoyed up (if that’s not an unfortunate metaphor) headed for my next port of call (ditto), the Nordic Museum.
Here you’ll find more evidence of the Vikings’ attempts at world domination, plus a whole floor dedicated to the Sami, the indigenous people of Lapland, and, of course, a wing concerned with the work of August Strindberg. Playwright, novelist and father of modern drama, Strindberg painted such a gloomy a picture of the human condition that he makes Beckett look like a stand-up comedian.
Channelling resources But listen. You don’t have to spend all your time indoors, ruminating on the extraordinary behaviour of the Vikings or the deeper side of the Swedish soul.
Stockholm is without doubt one of the most beautiful cities in the world — a third of the metropolis is woodland, a third water and a third a mass of handsome buildings. The archipelago of Stockholm is made up of 24,000 islands as Sweden crumbles into the Baltic, and the islands begin in the centre of Stockholm. A boat trip would seem an essential part of any visit, and a wide variety beckons. You can take a trip through Lake Mälaren to Sweden’s oldest town, Birka, and expose yourself to some more Viking history. Or perhaps enjoy a trip downstream to Drottningholm, the 17th century royal residence on the lakeside.
I instead opted for a one-hour Royal Canal tour. And before you break into Brendan Behan’s song about that very subject, this canal bears not even a passing resemblance to Dublin’s channel. Stockholm’s watery thoroughfare begins along the beautiful canal of Djugarden before passing under some 15 bridges. As the canal opened out to sea and past the Vasa museum I fervently hoped that the gentleman who had designed the afore-mentioned Vikings’ answer to the Titanic had nothing to do with the design of our boat.
But, of course, no need to worry — this was as comfortable and pleasant a way to get an idea of the layout of Stockholm as you could wish.
Holm comforts Back on dry land, a pre-prandial stroll may be called for, and nowhere better than the Gamla Stan, the city’s medieval heart. ‘Gamla Stan’ is Swedish for ‘old town’.
Whatever, this was the site of the original settlement of Stockholm, roundabout 1250 — which, oddly enough, makes Dublin and Wexford both older Viking towns than the Swedish capital.
Today, the centre of Stockholm is a mass of handsome buildings: palaces, churches, mansions and houses crammed tightly onto the island (the narrowest street is 90 cm wide).
And it’s not all cobbled alleyways and half-timbered houses and pubs. Sandwiched in between all the designer shops (think Paris or Milan) is the Nobel Museum where you can learn all about local boy Alfred Nobel’s achievements, and also the ground-breaking ideas and discoveries of the other Nobel laureates (there’s a dozen Irish ones by the way). Oh, and there’s plenty of Swedish ones as well.
It seems that once the Swedes got all that Viking business out of their blood, they set about building one of the most successful countries in Europe. Five hundred years of a low-level of conflict has led to the development of a country that is the most sophisticated and developed in the world. Stockholm, as befits a capital city of a country so successful, is elegant and handsome.
If you’re the type who doesn’t particularly want to fry on the beach, and are more at home strolling through gentle woodland or along quiet watersides, Stockholm has to be high on your list.
My Kingdom for a Norse
One other thing, before you go. As you check in your baggage before you board your plane to Arlanda Airport, ask them if there’s a place you can leave your preconceived notions, your stereotypes, behind. Because most of them aren’t true.
OK, the women (and presumably the men, but I’m not an expert) are unfeasibly attractive, and often blonde. But they’re not queuing up to commit suicide at the harbour wall, they’re not the same as German “but with the sense of humour removed”, and they aren’t unfriendly.
I guess it’s partly the fault of us journalists. We get the blame for most things, so we might as well get the blame for this too. You see, if a travel writer goes to Ireland and meets a friendly person he will undoubtedly bang on about that, and how it’s indicative of the oul’ craic, but probably won’t mention the fact that the motorway from Dublin to Dundalk is an amazing feat of engineering, and that the toll booths are as well-run as anywhere. Because, you see, that doesn’t fit the image.
Similarly, when I went to Sweden I was tempted to mention how remarkably efficient the Express train from the airport to the city was, and how spectacularly clean the city is — because to an extent that feeds into the stereotype.
But hang on a second. What about the policeman, whose English was so good that he probably moonlighted as a UN interpreter? He gave me directions to the hotel with patience, good humour and even cracked a modest joke (saying that a young man like me would have no difficulty with the 20 minute walk to the hotel, God bless him).
Then again there was the businessman — along with wife and son Oskar — who chatted amiably with me the whole way on the train back to the airport. When was the last time you saw an Irish businessman chatting to a tourist coming in from the airport? I tell you, it was a small cameo, but an uplifting experience, and by no means a unique one.
If you’re looking for a classy destination which doesn’t cost the earth, and where the locals are friendly and sophisticated, head north. The Swedes should award themselves the Nobel Prize for Weekend Breaks.
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