For a background on this overall trip make sure you read my posts on France and the Czech Republic first.
After running across Prague airport like a mad man, I eventually found my way to Gate 15c, a gate so far from the entrance that I started to question exactly where I was. Had I just walked halfway to Stockholm?
It was a Saturday morning and a beautiful day above the Scandinavian clouds.
As we positioned ourselves for landing about Stockholm Skavsta airport – approximately 100km south of the Swedish capital beside the town of Nyköping (see here) – I saw before me the utter contrast the landscape below presented compared to where I had been an hour and a half before.
Prague was in the mist of a heatwave while I was visiting, yet Stockholm was just coming out of it’s coldest winter for years. Skavsta looked like a toy airport nestled within a winter wonderland.
The coach ride from Skavsta to the centre of Stockholm took about an hour and a half (photos of the return leg are below).
The Swedish countryside was a sight to behold. Along with the blisteringly hot Czech landscape, the coach journeys to and from Stockholm, along with it’s ‘Elk in the road’ and made-up ‘Swedish miles’ road signs was one of the most stunning parts of the entire trip.
Upon arrival in Stockholm I had a short wait for my host while she washed her hair (genuinely). After briefly exploring alone (and quickly realising that gloves were very much necessary), my Swedish friend arrived to whisk me off in a taxi to her apartment in Vasastaden, a trendy part of town that features such attractions as the Stockholm Stadsbibliotek (take a guess – photo below) and the Stockholm School of Economics, which I can only imagine to be a slightly chillier LSE.
Chilly day turned into chillier night, as I went out to celebrate the 30th birthday of a Swedish man I’d never met before in my life.
At this point I should mention the one thing about Sweden that struck me more than anything else. Every single person I met, spoke to, or simply bumped into (literally and metaphorically) in Sweden was incredibly friendly.
Swedes learn English from a young age, and have done for decades. Not only did I not come across a single person who couldn’t speak fluent English (even the older people I spoke to had a fair conversational grasp) – but they were more than happy to.
Upon being introduced to person after person at the above mentioned party as soon as my friend said (in Swedish) that I was from England the said person would grab my hand, shake it like an old friend, smile and exclaim how nice it was to meet me and then ask me about myself – in fluent English. Honestly, I’ve never met friendlier people – as a whole – in my life.
The next day, having lost an hour, and indeed several items of clothing, due to Daylight Saving, we headed out – camera in hand – to see what we could find…
Tack, Sweden.
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