scrapheapstuart3

I’m going through a bit of a Scandinavian phase at the moment. Last year, my wife Chris and I visited Bergen and Oslo in Norway, seeing the fjords and mountains and viewing lots of slightly disturbing Munch paintings including several versions of The Scream. Earlier this summer ( 2026) we were in Copenhagen, capital of Denmark and while there, crossed the famous bridge across the Baltic for a day trip to Malmo, Sweden’s third biggest city. Now, I’m writing this in Stockholm, Sweden’s beautiful capital. Situated on 14 islands linked by bridges and ferries, it sits where Lake Malaran meets the Baltic Sea.

It’s strange that more Brits don’t visit Scandinavia, just across the sea, choosing instead to fly south to the more reliably sunny resorts of the Mediterranean. Maybe it’s because it has a reputation for being expensive. That’s quite true I have to admit, although Britain is catching up fast. Maybe also, people are put off by the northern latitudes of Norway, Sweden and Denmark ( not to mention Finland), assuming it’s going to be bleak and cold. I believe their winters can be long, dark and freezing, making the perfect stage-set for many a menacing Scandi-Noir thriller series. Yet Scandinavian summers can in turn be very warm and the days long. In fact, friends of mine in northern Norway experience summers when the sun never sets. ( The land of the midnight sun.)

I first went to Sweden in the mid-80s when we did a house with a family from Sodertelje, on a pretty canal south of the capital. Those were “primitive”, pre-internet days. My first wife and I joined a holiday house- swap organisation called Inter-Vac. People posted ads for their properties in a special magazine, stating what their preferences were for an exchange. Then they actually phoned each other up on a landline, ( there were no mobiles) and engaged in a series of conversations to establish whether they were compatible or not. It was a sort of dating agency but for holidays rather than romance. We were living in a slightly run-down seaside resort on the north-east coast of England at the time ( Whitley Bay.) We wondered whether we would get any takers at all! We needn’t have worried. The phone went into over-drive. It was weird picking up the receiver and talking to a complete stranger from Dusseldorf, our first call. Calls from Arnhem in the Netherlands and Edinburgh in Scotland quickly followed. We even got an enquiry from Florida! That year, 1985, we ended up in lovely Arnhem, the only area in the Netherlands with hills. Two years later, in 1987, we headed off to Sweden. In those days, one could take a ferry from Newcastle across the North Sea to Gothenburg. We then jumped on a Stockholm bound train, disembarking at Sodertelje.

Our house swappers, Hakan and Cisse, lived in an old wooden property built by Hakan’s grandfather in 1912. We didn’t do a straight swap as we couldn’t afford to go to Sweden in 1986. The Swedes stayed in our house while we were on holiday in Wales. Next year, 1987, we finally went to stay in H and S’s beautiful wooden home while they were at their summer house on the Baltic, about 45 minutes drive away.

It was a wonderful holiday. We took the train into Stockholm 3 times, going to see the Vasa, Sweden’s Mary Rose which sank on its maiden voyage in 1627. We also took the ferry to Skansen, the world’s first open air folk museum, where we saw 18th and 19th century farm and town buildings, as well as Nordic animals such as: wolves, reindeers and bears. Hakan and Cisse took us to their coastal summer house on the edge of a pine forest and with its own private beach. Friends of theirs drove us out into the countryside. We picnicked by a beautiful lake and swam in the water while a big red sun was setting on the horizon. That’s an indelible memory of mine. Yes, it was a great house swap. They enjoyed Whitley Bay too, thrilled by the tall, brick, Victorian chimney stacks, the lighthouse and beach on the bay and the novelty of double-decker buses. They even liked the litter on the pavements as they said that Sweden was so boringly clean and perfect all the time. We couldn’t understand that last point as we were a little embarrassed about how comparatively scruffy England was.

So here am I back in Sweden again ( September, 2026.) This time I’m staying at a hotel on Sodermalm island just south of the centre. Unusually, I’m on holiday alone as my travel friend had to pull out because of a family emergency. It’s strange not being able to share the experience but I have still enjoyed it. Just for once, I don’t have to compromise but can do exactly what I want.

Stockholm is bigger and busier than I remember it. It’s still a very attractive city though, interlaced with shining waterways. Ferries come and go from their jetties on a number of different bays. Some of them are old, charming steamers from the early 20th century complete with tall funnels. But no smoke comes out of them as the boats now have electric engines. The multiple quaysides are lined with elegant 18th century and grandiose 19th century buildings.

The old town of Gamla Stan is a charming maze of atmospheric cobbled streets and narrow alleys. It’s a tourist’s dream really and every 2 minutes, you find yourself snapping yet another tasteful picture. It’s clustered around a baroque Cathedral ( originally medieval) and a monumental Royal Palace. The former is an oasis of peace while the latter is surrounded by armed guards full of their own self-importance and massed rank of tourists. I think they were performing the changing of the guard when I came by. Cue brass bands and soldiers on parade, marching stiffly around and doing lots of saluting. The most disturbing thing was that the soldiers were armed with machine guns! I dived into the warren of old streets to get away from all the fuss. It being September, Gamla Stan wasn’t quite as crowded as it would have been at the height of summer, but it was still fairly busy. The streets and squares are crammed with, cafes, bars, restaurants, souvenir shops and ice cream parlours, all chasing the lucrative tourist-Kroner. ( except that today, everyone pays by smart phone or plastic card) I sat outside a cafe and watched the world go by as I sipped a coffee and a fruit tart. ( naughty but nice.) The old town buildings are attractively painted in pastel colours — terracotta, ochre, rust red, cream, orange.

Earlier on my first day I had joined a guided tour of the 1920s City Hall. Tours were being conducted in Swedish, English and Chinese. Luckily I didn’t join the wrong group! It was very interesting. One great hall is in Italian Renaissance style and is where the Nobel Prize winners’ banquets are held. It’s called the Blue Hall but they never got around to decorating it in blue. Upstairs is the parliament and council chamber with a painted wooden ceiling showing scenes from Swedish history set against a star-studded night sky. Finally we came to the Golden Hall, a kitsch version of a Byzantine palace with mosaics and murals depicting Swedish myths and legends. It is here that the food is prepared for the Nobel banquets. It has to be delivered to the hundreds of special guests within 7 minutes of the opening speech finishing.

On my second full day in Stockholm I went off to the famed Vasa Museum which I’d last visited with my children in the 80s. Vasa was the name of a celebrated Swedish king who finally expelled the invading Danes in the 1520s. One of his successors, Gustav II Adolf, ordered the most spectacular warship of the day to be built in King Vasa’s honour. It was to be his flagship in a bitter war with Poland for control over the Baltic. The ship was designed by a prominent Dutch shipwright. Unfortunately Gustav Adolf got carried away and kept ordering extra embellishments to be added. For instance, he had carvings of Roman legionaries added as he fancied his Kingdom as a successor of Imperial Rome. All the additions made the vessel top heavy for its relatively narrow hull. A strong gust of wind made it precariously list to one side on its maiden voyage in Stockholm harbour. This was in 1628. Water poured in through the gun ports and the Vasa soon tipped on to its side and then disappeared beneath the waves. It had been a maritime disaster waiting to happen. The ship lay preserved in silt for over 300 years until it was raised along with 12,000 objects in 1961. Seeing it for the second time made me think of the Mary Rose in Portsmouth, which I had viewed between my 2 visits to Stockholm. It too had sank on its maiden voyage in the mid 1500s, watched by another vain-glorious monarch, Henry VIII. The 2 old warships are similar except that the Swedish vessel is bigger and more spectacular.

I viewed an introductory film before inspecting the ship itself at 4 different levels. Each floor is full of artefacts and information panels in Swedish and English. It was an interesting and enjoyable visit although a display of skeletons near the end reminded me that the Vasa Museum commemorates what was in fact a sombre and tragic event.

I unwound by walking out into Djurgarden’s lovely parkland. It’s a slender island that used to be a Royal hunting ground before they started to let us commoners in. I shared the park with a few joggers and dog walkers. It runs alongside the water and features mature woodland, really lovely flowerbeds and a sprinkling of statues. One showed a lady in a bell-like dress and long, curly locks. She sits on a hillock near the water, surrounded by beds of crimson flowers. Another called “Idyll” shows a pair of entwined lovers looking longingly into the distance. Finally I ended up going into Skansen, the open air museum on a hillside. It was surprisingly quiet. It had been very busy when I’d visited it in the summer of 1987. It has 150 reconstructed buildings from different regions of Sweden. They range from windmills to old town squares, from farms to manor houses. I visited an old ironmongers, a vintage printing works and a traditional pottery. There are panoramic views across the city from the top of the hill. After a drink and a snack, I headed off to the Nordic animals area. I’m not usually a great fan of zoos but I must admit it was very exciting to see a female elk ( or moose) and her 2 calves, 3 large brown bears bounding around their enclosure, a couple of European bison and a family of lynx. I also caught a brief glimpse of a wolverine. I finished off by visiting an old church and a metal bell tower donated by a village after the rest of its church had been burnt down.

It was a good day on lovely Djurgarden island. In the 1980s we had taken a ferry across ( it’s still running) but this time I took a 10 minutes ride on a smooth, quiet tram. For all Stockholm public transport you can install and load up an app or pay by tapping a card on a scanner. Strangely though, all the Tunnelbana ( Metro) stations have real people selling the tickets instead of machines. It’s a nice human touch.

My first 2 days in Stockholm had been a success and I was gradually getting used to being on my own. It made me a closer observer of life around me instead of being distracted by a companion. So far I had not made any drastic mistakes even though I had nobody to watch my back. My luck wasn’t to last though. But that’s a subject of my next Swedish blog. “Alone in Stockholm” still has 4 days to go ….