I’m in Sweden and it’s decidedly different than Iceland.
23°C has turned me into a skateboarder/poser.
Pat (that punk I dated in 8th grade) would probably still not be impressed.
Maybe it’s my form.
Anyway, a girl friend of mine has joined me (and since departed) for a portion of Sweden: Two weeks ago Katie Kuhn and I were boarder-line strangers who had gone to high school together. We briefly connected at Paneras in December (you know I have epiphanies there) and now
—
Sweden (vs Iceland) is all about its cities; Stockholm, Kalmar, Lund, Gothemburg. I purchased a Stockholm card to get the most out of my experience. You pay a set price and receive unlimited access to over 200 attractions — a three day marathon of metro rides, museums, boat tours, castles, parks, and gardens. It was worth the money and I was happily frantic, engrossed, studying maps, running around, and fitting everything in.
Most interesting were the places that housed Nobel events: The Nobel Museet (where I learned that ALL the award money, including the festivities themselves, are funded solely off of the interest of moneys left by Alfred Nobel in his will), The Stadshuset (where I leaned that the award dinner has a schedule down to the second . Waiters train for years for this event. If they get nervous – even moments before they are to work – a replacement server has already been trained to step in.), Kulture Huset (where I learned that The King of Sweden actually bows to each Nobel Laureate). I could have spent all day at each exhibit.
From the capitol city I went south, ate some delicious Swedish meatballs, and drove the coast of Swedens diaper (I wish I was kidding. Perhaps the abundance of active farms explains ‘that’ smell? As a farmer I don’t think so. But I’ll give Sweden the benefit of the doubt). From south I went west, saw the stunning fjords, walked along beaches, and ended up in Gothemburg where I am now being treated like royalty:
I have lots of planning to do over the next few weeks — a post in each country seems like a reasonable goal. There’s a strong chance you can influence my travels if you despise the song Whisky Lullaby as much as I do.
meatball kisses,
‘mi