Friday, May 4, was our day to pick up a rental car and shift to a very different travel mode. Car trip, here we go!

The Stockholm airport is about 40km north of the city. That is one long taxi ride. All of the licensed cabs in Stockholm list the cost of a trip to the airport on the side of their cars. It’s either 495 SEK or 545 SEK ($62).

We picked up our spiffy new Volvo V40. For people who drive cars that are 13 and 16 years old, driving a car that still has its new car smell is quite heady. (Note to financial planner Bill: This may be what does the trick and gets us to finally buy a new car. We love this car!)

We had a few problems trying to get out of the airport area, but eventually got ourselves onto the right highway and headed south and west to Katrineholm. We had even more trouble getting through Katrineholm and finding our way to our inn.

This was to be our first stay in a historic Swedish country hotel. (We are planning to stay at a number of historic hotels on this trip.)

Dufweholms Herrgard is located on a lake, and its setting sounded just right for a little decompression from being on a ship with a lot of other folks for 3 weeks and a few days in a major city.

Almost as if they knew Jerry would be there, the inn has the largest collection of corkscrews we’ve ever seen. This is just one of four large cases we came across while we were there.

After getting situated, we headed out for a walk around the inn grounds and along the lake. Pretty spot. Wildflowers. Birdsong. Some very noisy ducks and geese.

Saturday was probably the prettiest day we have had on the whole trip. Cloudless skies, mild temps. We decided to drive about 25km north to Julita Gård, an open-air museum. Actually, it’s an old working country estate, which is now affiliated with the Nordic Museum in Stockholm. It sits on a Lake Oljaren and has 2200 hectares of land, dotted with cottages, a manor house, old stables, a church, myriad agricultural buildings, and some beautiful gardens.

We had a great time walking all over the grounds and simply enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. There were very few other people, so it almost felt like we had the place to ourselves.

When we got back to the inn, we had some tea and then spent what was left of the afternoon outside either along the lake or in the garden. A lovely, quiet dose of Swedish lakeside life.

 

On Tuesday, we disembarked the Viking Sea. The rest of our adventure was to be on our own, and it was starting with several nights in Stockholm. We first visited Stockholm in late May 2016, when I was recovering from a nasty cold, and Jerry was in full bloom with it, including fever. So we hoped to cover a little more territory this time and with a little more vigor.

We arrived in a heavy drizzle, 40 some degrees, and on a national holiday—May 1, Labor Day and the long-awaited kick off to summer. Because we arrived at our Gamla Stan (old town) hotel at 9:15am—the ship hustles people off first thing in the morning since they have a whole new phalanx of cruisers arriving midday—we had 5 hours before check in. We stowed our bags and set out, only to find that absolutely nothing was open. No shops, very few cafes. Ah, but the Stockholm Cathedral was open. We had visited it before, but it looked warm and dry. We took our time and enjoyed our visit lots more than our first one.

The onyx and silver altarpiece.

The main square in Gamla Stan, Stortorget.

We took to the streets and walked through the old town, discovering a number of little side streets and nooks and crannies we hadn’t seen before.

We later stopped for lunch on the main square (another warm, dry haven), and the rain stopped while we ate. Yes! But some excitement was brewing. Speakers and a dais were being set up in the square while we dined. Something was about to happen. National holiday, a few hundred feet from the royal palace: maybe the king would make an appearance, or a few local dignitaries perhaps. Or, with all the sound equipment, maybe a concert. We decided to stay to see what would unfold.

What we got was a Labor Day workers parade. Different groups, waving flags, many in all black, and some wearing kerchiefs covering their faces. A young woman climbed the fountain in the square to plant a flag. As the group kept getting bigger and rowdier, we opted to move to the fringe, still wondering what we were watching at that point. A man started a conversation with us as he could see we were eyeing the best route out of the square. He explained what we were seeing and told us these groups represented the far left and were people “unhappy with the system,” including a number of anarchists. We asked what was likely to happen, and he said there would be many speeches, each group wanting to have their say. At that point, we decided to see if our room was ready. Lots of speeches in Swedish we thought we could probably skip.

Wednesday was going to be our only day with good weather, so we knew we had to take advantage of things outdoors and save some drier options for Thursday. One thing I wanted to see was the “daily” military parade. At this time of year, daily translates to twice a week, and Wednesday was one of those days.

We had seen the changing of the guard in 2016. It’s relatively elaborate, but you have to claim a spot about an hour in advance, and it lasts an hour plus. I thought watching the band and soldiers march across the river and approach the palace would be fun—and much shorter. There is no specific time for these things. Just as we reached the conclusion that it wasn’t going to happen, we walked away from the bridge. No sooner said than done, I could hear a military band. Here came a couple horse patrol people, then the band, followed by the soldiers. Quick and fun.

Palace lion.

Marching past the opera house.

Some pretty buildings near the opera house.

After the parade, we walked to the boat harbor and took a canal cruise. What a pretty way to see the city.

A view of the most exclusive address in town, Strandvagen.

Our last view of the Viking Sea, our home for the previous 3 weeks. It would be sailing out of Stockholm by early evening.

The most imposing retirement home I think I’ve ever seen and with a lovely harbor view.

Coming back toward Gamla Stan.

After the cruise, we walked through a neighborhood we hadn’t explored before and spent some time in Kungstradgarden, “the king’s garden.” Everybody was out enjoying the day and the flowering trees.

Another handsome lion, one of four at the base of a statue. I can’t tell you how long I had to wait for a picture of the lion unadorned with kids or young women getting their pictures taken astride the lions.

Then we discovered a church near the opera house we hadn’t even noticed before: St. Jacob’s Kyrka.

Thursday was forecast to be very wet. And cold. As in low 40’s cold. We had gone back and forth on what indoor options we might choose. Since the rain hadn’t started by the time we set out, we opted to make a public transit foray to the end of Djurgarden, two islands away from our old town island of Gamla Stan. The object of our effort was to visit Thielska Galleriet, a private house art museum. I had been hoping to see some Carl Larsson art. The National Museum was closed for renovation when we were in Stockholm in 2016. And, amazingly, it was still closed, not reopening until October. Thielska was one other place where we could see some Larssons, some other Swedish artists, and some Munch (even if he was a Norwegian).

We bought bus passes and then had to walk about 20 minutes to where we could catch the right bus. We waited quite awhile for it to arrive. It was absolutely jammed. Where were all these people going? We rode the bus to the end of the line and never figured it out. Only a few were going where we were going. A group of women got off at a park, and some students got off along the way. Anyway, that was one very popular bus.

Thielska was not a huge venue, but with very nicely set up spaces for showing art on three floors. There was a whole room of Munch, some very large scale.

Carl Larsson, Azalea (1906).

The Munch room.

Edvard Munch, The Ladies On the Bridge (1903). This beautiful piece was about 6 feet by 8 feet.

The trip back into the city was more comfortable. Catching a bus at the end of the line just about guarantees getting a seat. We spent more time in the city, but ultimately decided to head back to our hotel, hoping to dry out before venturing out again in the evening.

Naturally, the sun came out Friday morning as we headed to the airport to pick up a car and start the next segment of our adventure. In spite of the less than ideal weather, we enjoyed our time in pretty Stockholm. It’s a very approachable city and appears to be a very livable one.

 

On Monday, our cruise ended with a bang: we sailed through the Swedish Archipelago in bright sunshine and blue skies. Then to put icing on the cake, we came into the Stockholm harbor. A lovely finish to our 4000-nautical mile journey.

Sailing through the Archipelago is a bit like sailing through the San Juans.  The San Juans have more topography, but the Archipelago feels bigger in area. It took us hours to sail through all the islands and islets.  They are dotted with charming cottages and idyllic sites.

Welcome to Sweden!

Coming into Stockholm.

Tivoli Grona Lund on Djurgarden

Gamla Stan, the old town area of Stockholm, our home for several nights after leaving the Viking Sea.

The Viking ocean ships have a tradition at the end of their cruises: an evening of ABBA. So now we know our cruise is at an end. Voulez-vous…I Have a Dream…Mama Mia…Take a Chance on Me. Can’t you just hear it? Tap your feet, clap your hands. It may sound silly to some, but I was lucky to see them perform live in Portland in 1979, one of only 18 concerts in North America, and I loved every energetic minute of the 2-hour show. So this wrap up actually works for me. Thank You for the Music.

We sailed across the Gulf of Finland to pay a brief visit to the Helsinki area.

We drove through the city and past many of its landmarks. The skies were darkening. We still had our fingers crossed that we might have gray skies but no drippy stuff.

Fifty kilometers out of the city, we arrived in Porvoo. It is a regular town on the outskirts of the city, but happens to have a remarkably preserved old town area, giving a visitor a taste of what Finland looked like 200 years ago (or so said our tour guide).

Unfortunately, as we started to walk the old cobblestone streets, the rain started in earnest. I mean, big, wet, soaking raindrops. This was a stop where we were to have a couple hours on our own to wander, shop, take pictures, whatever. But it was fairly early on a Sunday morning, and not many of the shops were open.

We wandered. I took lots of pictures. We scanned the possibilities in one of the few shops open. A lot of people visited a big chocolate shop that was offering lots of free tastings. We aren’t really chocolate people, so we gave that a pass (though it was tempting, because it looked warm and dry in there).

We walked until we were thoroughly wet and drippy ourselves. Really cute town, and we’re glad we got to see the old buildings. Next time: in better weather, please.

 

Back in Helsinki, we had a little time before our ship would start its final leg of the cruise.

We visited the large Senate Square, which is dominated by Helsinki’s large Lutheran Cathedral.

Helsinki looks like a thriving city and a very nice place to live. A nice size for a city. It’s pretty Portland-like for size: 630,000 in the city and 1.2 million in the urban area. And Finland has a population of 5.5 million—again, not too different from Oregon.

Uspenski Cathedral (Eastern Orthodox)

At just over 60 degrees latitude, Helsinki enjoys wonderful daylight in summer—and the lack thereof in winter. Our Finnish guide spent a lot of time talking about the dark time of year and the inclination to drink. She said that they drink and are very sociable in the summer, but that they hibernate like bears in the winter—and they drink. She also talked about the national pastime of sauna (“sow-nuh”) and their complete openness about nudity.

Interestingly, our guides in Tallinn, Saint Petersburg, and Helsinki all raved about their city’s reputation for building icebreakers. I have never been anyplace that bragged about their icebreakers. In these three cities, we had four guides, all of whom talked repeatedly about icebreakers. I think it may just be possible that this is an insight to the local climate and what the winters must be like! (In Saint Petersburg, we were told that the ice on the rivers had only been gone 3 weeks, and most of the trees were not even budding yet.)

Brief but interesting visit. To my few Finnish friends, I am sorry we didn’t have more time to explore your homeland.