Sweden was noticeably cooler after the unexpected heat of the last few days in St Anton. The bus from Skavsta airport, still running despite the general bus strike, whisked us smoothly through the clouds and drizzling rain towards Stockholm. A thick rainbow shimmered in the distance, its colours looming iridescent on the horizon. I was apprehensive, on my way to meet Richard a renowned climatologist - one of only 6 worldwide in his sphere...and my first couch surfing "encounter".
Annabel had introduced me to couch surfing..the concept of swapping sofas enabling people to travel cheaply and more importantly find a friendly face in a new city. An unstated reciprocal agreement means that no money is changed hands just sofas and to date there are more than 500,000 fellow couch surfers in countries all accross the globe. Its true that travel unites people and this site is great evidence of it.
Richard has a stylish apartment on the water front on the small island of Lilla Essingham. Stockholm consists of 14 islands all connected with an array of bridges ....it looks confusing at first but you soon get the hang of it. As there were no buses we took a cab to his apartment stopping by at the local sushi bar - a welcome delight after my Ryan air hot dog. His lounge has huge windows with no blinds, consequently I woke up on the couch around 4am with the sun... my eye mask in a tangle round my head...I decided to take a morning dip in the water off the jetty, . i plunged into he water - expecting the worst .. pleasantly reassured by the refreshing - but not cold - water. Richard observing me from the balcony grinned "try doing that in April - then you really know whats hit you!" ...
Later I walked into the city to get my bearings...stopping off at a kayak club for a hearty pie and a coffee on pretty Stortoget square in Gamla Stan where one of the Danish Kingshad massacred 90 noblemen in the Stockholm bloodbath..
Swedes can be difficult to get to know well. This may be due to the fact that they are quite reserved they also tend to have close knit groups of friends often from childhood which are difficult to break into. However, later that evening as I attempted to squeeze myself into in a lift designed for 3 people .. with 3 bemused swedes all staring at me... a voice from behind said "...don't worry I'm just an axe murderer" and I turned round to see a young Swedish guy grinning at me. We took the next lift and got talking and he invited me to join him and his girlfriend for a drink at the top in the rooftop bar, which affords panoramic views all over Gamla Stan to the North and Sodermam to the South. I told them of my couch surfing experience so far and they were both intrigued..."is he good looking?" the swedish guy asked me cheekily..they obviously both thought it was a dating site....
Rich had a last minute call so got delayed and by the time he joined us I was on my second glass of Rose...which while expensive was not ridiculously so by Swedish standards and worth it for the views. We ate out at the restaurant owned by one of the Abba group. The food was excellent and pricey, tho I guess comparable to London prices. Sweden is definitely not for the budget traveler and the only reason I could afford this without completely demolishing my budget was because I was staying for free.
The next couple of days I pottered around the island with Richard, visited his idyllic bakery serving an incredible range of mouthwatering ckaes, pastries and rolls pulled out of tiny drawers. I was like a child in a candy shop...Richard grinned and said he was exactly the same the flirt time he saw it. I took a trip to see the Vasa museum on Skanson island, another jaw dropping experience at the sight of one of Vasa a famous Viking ship...well worth the entrance...
The Archipelago...Uto and Flardling.....
On Monday despite the threat of storms I set off for two of the islands in the archipelago ..armed with my tent, an army poncho, a complete set of waterproofs, stove and basic rations...just six of us remained on deck - braving out the rain in a fighting comaraderie spirit. By the time we reached Uto one of the furthest islands in the Southern archipelago the rain had cleared and the sun was bravely attempting to shine ...
Uto, the larger and more commercial of the two felt like a scene of a stage set... an array of tiny little houses selling a variety of nick nacks and clothing, an ice cream parlour, a bakery a well stocked supermarket and a range of restaurants providing expensive gourmet food. The campsite itself is tucked away in a delightful little cove with its own private sandy beach...there were just handful of tents - mostly young couples with families including a Danish couple from Copenhagen who had attempted to cycle to Stockholm with 2 small children ..unsuccesfully!
A minor crisis evolved when I realised I'd left my sleeping bag on the ferry.Thankfully the boat was due to dock again later that afternoon so I set off to meet it...mercifully the boat man, grinning ,... produced it for me and I breathed a huge sigh of relief treating myself to a large ice cream. The second crisis emerged when I tried to light my Trangia with the wrong fuel. Thankfully the Danish couple came to my rescue, lnt me some meths and i was able to heat up a fine spaghetti carbonara, can of beer and crawl into my tiny tent before the rain set in again...
The next day I took the ferry to Flardling...an island of complete contrast to Uto with only one basic store selling water, enormous bags of crisps - enough for a week supply...large cans of the watery Swedish beer, a sample of potatoes dug out few the ground by the shop owner, and of all things Earl Grey tea bags. Very little else. Still in desperation one could survive on crisps and beer ... Just 3.5 kms long, the island is a protected reserve of pine forest running down to the sea. There are no beaches but the rocks provide great swimming vantages all around the island and in the North Yachts find quiet anchorages. Chemical toilets are dotted round the island with little hearts pinned to the doors and delightful pictures on the inside if you were going to hang around long enough to study them.... The youth hostel is a magnificent house, built by Ernst Thiel - an art collector and partron in 1917. It stands aloft on the hillside...sadly I'd not booked in and spent my worst night as my tent became sodden with the heavy dew dripping through to my sleeping bag. Coupled with a lack of oxygen giving me a penetrating headache....unfortunately I couldn't open the tent flap because of the blood hungry mosquitoes circling the tent and the bears outside! ......so at 6am i gave up found the superb digital showers in the youth hostals and stretched out on a rock to soak in the warm morning sunshine...
Back in Stockholm I met up with Richard and we ate out at a French bistro. I nursed my mosquito bites as Richard eyed up the waitresses - amazonian like beauties...I began to feel that Sweden's just too perfect a country for me...living here would be like constantly competing in a beauty pageant and giving up before you start....London is much better for your ego.... I smiled at Richard, happy to listen to him talk about his experiences but knowing this was a long way from my life style or what i was looking for.... Richard had been kind enough to entrust me with his keys, provide me with fresh clean towels and make me endless cups of tea....he'd given me a rare insight into living in Stockholm and I was very grateful for his kind hospitality and friendship. My first couch surf encounter was a success and I would be trying it again....
The next day, as Stockholm sweltered in a new heat wave and Swedish beauties surrounded the apartment, I grabbed my bags called in briefly at the best bakery in the world to gaze at the chocolates and made for Skavsta airport.....
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