Locked up
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Stockholm,
Stockholm,
Sweden
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Stockholm Jan 24th 2004 ;
I arrive, at a temperature that's well chilled. Stockholm makes an interesting start point for a RTW trip. Everything's seems wrong with it at first, as heavy cell doors swing shut. Langholmen prison is now a youth hostel and occupies a small island. Good value and very clean. Ideal really, since Sweden does have a reputation for a being a little pricey. Inside the fortress like structure, it's warm as I make my way down to the mysterious sounding 'smoking room'. Unsurprisingly, I am not the only inmate to venture in to this informal travellers HQ, and I gladly join others by drinking a few slugs from an open bottle of whiskey that's being handed round. It's a very sociable gathering as everybody exhales thick clouds of smoke from mouths and nostrils as if engaged in a kind of backpacker's ritual. Two occupants of the small lounge we find ourselves in have come to Stockholm to see the Kylie Minogue concert scheduled for the following evening. I think it's only right that they remain locked up in here, for the sake of their sanity.
As the 'bedroom door' yawns open into a section of the prison museum, it startles members of the general public who are busy scrutinising some exhibits. Perhaps from our general appearance they think we've been locked up inside for several decades and forgotten about. I reach the Gamla Stan - the well preserved old town, by subway train. I am happy to see that it is snowing as I amble along the waterside to examine a Viking boat. I have no guide book with me, so I look for clues to reveal the identities of so many solid and purposeful looking buildings. The most cost-effective means to fill ones belly is of course to visit a branch of MacDonald's. Later, in a supermarket, I grab a baguette and some cans of generic lager for my dinner, back at the nick. They do have an on-site snug and restaurant but it's ridiculously expensive.
I don't sleep well in the four-man cell since a freshly admitted offender spent the night snoring and farting like an overgrown pig. Today, I return again to the attractive old town and witness a crazy man running down a narrow street shouting at the top of his voice. He knocks over an innocent bystander. I have a cup of coffee at a charming little café called the Gun, which nestles down a crooked lane. Then in a fit of financial abandon, I go to a city pub and consume a pint of Kilkenny on draft. It costs me the equivalent of a whole five pounds.
Sane again, I eat a kebab for lunch. If that sounds like I am on a junk food trip, let me tell you that there are kebab merchants everywhere in Stockholm. The choice of kebab fillings is hugely gratifying on a such a wintery day. I collect my bag from the T Central railway station left-luggage department, and catch a train and bus to the Firmenhaven ferry terminal .
I had previously booked a sleeping berth on the overnight ferry to Tallinn, in Estonia. A former member of the Soviet Union which now has its own identity and history stretching back even further. It seems like a nice place to visit en route to St Petersburg. At 6pm, I am aboard the large blue and white Tallinnk vessel. A very boxy shape for a ship, and I'm not sure if it's an ice breaker. The Baltic sea is obviously pretty frigid at this time of year .
There is some great entertainment onboard. A two-piece guitar and keyboard ensemble knocking out some respectable covers. As I am sat glugging back the ships finest red wine. I mumble a compliment to them at the end of their show as I cross the lounge, my legs moving in a different direction entirely. Next, I aim myself in a vertical manner of speaking, towards the adult disco banging away on the upper deck. Inside I see a riot of Russians going completely mental on the dance floor. They are not fighting , it must be a kind of dance.
Sole occupancy of a shared cabin is a real stroke of luck since there is hardly room to swing a cat. I assume it is my cabin. The ship, or maybe it's just the passengers, lurch about during a very groggy night. We arrive at the port of Tallinn about 10am, local time, and I walk from the boat to the old market square. Detecting the bite of the frosty air as I sip hot coffee and ask for directions to the hostelry. As with the boat, I'd already booked a room in advance. Pity I would rarely see it !
Next ; Tales of Tallinn , how the best laid plans can turn into something else entirely.
