Caliban – Opinion and Righteous Anger

In spite of not really being museum people, today we went to not one, but two.

It was drizzling outside, but very mildly, so that wasn’t really the reason for staying mostly inside today. No, the two museums in question were simply too good to pass up.

The first was the Vasamuseet (Vasa Museum), located on the island of Djurgården. We slowly made our way over there after first walking around Gamla Stan, the drizzle today light enough that I could now take a few snaps.

The walk to Djurgården was really lovely, in spite of the rain and low temperature. Just when you think you’re leaving the waterways behind you, you turn a corner and there’s another stretch of water, filled with boats and offering beautiful views into the distance.

Anyway, I highly recommend the Vasa Museum. It’s a maritime museum, housing an almost intact 17th century gunship (the Vasa) that sank on its maiden voyage in 1628 after travelling scarcely more than a kilometre. And there it lay, for the next 350 years, in the silt at the bottom of the Swedish waters, until it was dredged up and salvaged in 1961.

The low salt content of the Baltic waters meant that the ship was preserved very well. Nevertheless, the Swedes spent the next couple of decades restoring the ship to her former glory and the result has to be seen to be believed. Maritime history is not normally my bag, but the Vasa is fantastic and absolutely not to be missed.

A late lunch was had at Blå Porten, around the corner from the Vasa Museum on Djurgårdsvägen. What an excellent place, but so popular. The place was full to the gills with locals and, once we’d sunk our teeth into the food, it became obvious why.

Next, we walked back in the direction of Gamla Stan in order to visit the

Musikmuseet (Music Museum).

This museum contained a lot of musical instruments, many of which the public are allowed to play. Eloïse had a great time, banging on drums and xylophones and generally getting it out of her system.

The highlight for me was seeing Benny Andersson’s (of ABBA fame) 1974 Yamaha synthesiser. I wish there had been other items of ABBA memorabilia, but all there was was an old Washburn guitar belonging to Björn. ABBA surely warrant their own museum, never mind an exhibit or two.

There once was a vile band called Wet Wet Wet, who perpetrated a sequence of criminally limp-wristed ballads, the like of which would make that woeful git James Blunt proud. But the title of this blog entry doesn’t refer to them.

Nor does it refer to the once popular term for moderate politicians in the British Conservative party; nor even to a type of stew used in Ethiopian and Eritrean cuisine;

No, I’m talking about the state of being liquid or covered in liquid; more specifically, I’m talking about the weather today in Stockholm. It was wet; really very wet; wetter, in fact, than something completely not dry.

If I’m waffling, it’s because there’s not much to report.

After breakfast (which featured lots of pickled herring, although none in our party had the balls to partake), we walked around Gamla Stan and bought Eloïse a new raincoat. The old town of Gamla Stan is beautiful and, if Stockholm consisted of no more than this, I would still love the place. We got quite wet whilst walking around Gamla Stan.

Then, we walked around Södermalm and got even wetter. We took a break from the rain for lunch, then went outside again and continued to soak up the rain.

Outside, as I write this, I believe it’s still raining.

What can you do? We’re outdoor types and we knew the risk in coming to this part of Europe in the first few days of March. We can walk around all day in the rain without having our spirits dampened, but it’s definitely not ideal.

Still, wet or dry, I can cheerfully proclaim that I absolutely adore Stockholm. I had expected to be awed by Copenhagen and to find Stockholm merely pleasant, but the opposite has proved to be the case. Copenhagen, for all of its good points, left me with a sense of mild dissatisfaction, whereas Stockholm has blown me away with its charming historic old town, its harbour, its lovely cafés and its completely relaxed feel; and that was just day one.

The rain today also failed to deter a crowd of people, mostly and unsurprisingly of Serbian origin, from demonstrating in the centre of the old town against the recent proclamation of independence by Kosovo. The Swedish government, like the Dutch, have yet to recognise Kosovo as a sovereign state, so the demonstrators’ hope is that they can still be persuaded not to.

Anyway, as I said, there’s not much to report today; apart from the fact that it was very wet.

Another long day: 649 km in the car from Copenhagen to Stockholm. Amsterdam to Copenhagen was only slightly longer, at 676 km.

The Øresund Bridge took us from the outer suburbs of Copenhagen across into Sweden. After a customs woman quizzed us as we came off the bridge, we were on our way across a surprisingly rustic landscape. I had expected the suburbs of Malmö to greet us, but it obviously doesn’t sprawl as far as the bridge.

After filling up with petrol (twice: the petrol pump shut itself off after tanking SEK 400, so I had to insert my credit card a second time), we started heading north. With the Swedish motorway maximum stuck at 110 kmh, I was hoping for interesting scenery, since the drive itself, across scarcely populated, scarcely winding motorway, was not going to be a riveting experience.

To be honest, the drive was fairly dull until we reached Jönköping. Then, the motorway led us around the east side of the humongous lake Vättern and the drive became pleasanter.

The thing that really struck me was exactly how sparsely populated Sweden is. It’s a massive country, but the motorways have very little traffic and the distances between towns of any significant size are considerable. The Swedes really do have an enviable amount of space at their disposal.

The road remained quiet until about 30 km from Stockholm, when the scenery started to take on the shape of an imminent urban conurbation. Not until about 8 km from the centre did things really start to build up.

We pulled into Stockholm from the south, through the borough of Södermalm. It’s an up and coming area and had obvious instant appeal. The bridge that brought us into town was apparently one that levies an automatic toll as part of the city’s congestion charge system, although I’ll be impressed if they actually manage to levy the toll on us.

A few minutes later, we had located our hotel across the water in Gamla Stan, which means ‘Old Town’. We checked in and then I left to find somewhere to park the car for the next few days.

Stockholm is absolutely hopping on a Friday night. As we walked along Götgatan looking for a restaurant in which to eat, we were surprised to find virtually every place full to the brim and pouring out onto the street.

Eventually, we found a place with a free table and hastily commandeered it. It was a great place to people-watch. The people of Stockholm are a beautiful crowd, almost overwhelmingly so, and they’re perhaps at their preening best on a Friday evening.

I think we’re going to enjoy our stay here. After just one evening, I already vastly prefer Stockholm to Copenhagen. It’s much more beautiful and charming; the girls are better-looking, too, which doesn’t hurt.

And so our time in Copenhagen (and therefore also Denmark) draws to an end.

We made our way down to Nyhavn today for a canal boat tour, but were disappointed to discover that they are only operated at the weekend when out of season. That’s a pisser, because, if we had known that, we would have gone on one last Sunday. Oh well; something to do next time.

Instead, we walked down to the harbour to see the statue of The Little Mermaid, or _Den Lille Havfrue_, as she’s known here.

One international study rates Danes as the happiest people in the world. It’s not hard to see why, really. It really is a very civilised place, with the inevitably high cost of living that accompanies such civilisation. VAT runs at 25% here, for example.

On the face of it, the place isn’t that much different to The Netherlands, although we score a disappointing 15th in the world happiness stakes. Still, that’s ahead of Norway in 19th place, which also enjoys a very high standard of living. What’s the explanation?

I don’t know the answer and it’s impossible to find out after just five days in the capital. In fact, one of my gripes about visiting Copenhagen is that it’s a hard place to get the most out of when you don’t have Danish friends to show you around, point things out and enlighten you about Danish customs and values. Nevertheless, we’ve been here long enough to see the hygge that is so important to the Danes.

One thing I’ve noticed is that you don’t see many Bugaboo prams here. Almost everyone opts for the traditional, yet gigantic Swedish Emmaljunga prams, which we first saw en masse in Iceland.

And, as in Iceland, parents are wont to leave their babies outside the cafés and shops, safely tucked up in their sturdy Swedish prams, secure in the knowledge that none of the happy people of Denmark would dream of hurting or making off with someone else’s baby. One has to wonder how long it will be before freedom of movement within the EU results in some foreign-bred person of lesser happiness coming here and doing some Danish child a mischief. Let’s hope it never happens.

Anyway, I love these Emmaljunga prams and I want one. Sarah, ever the bucket of icy water to my boyish excitement, says, however, that they’re too bulky for the streets of Amsterdam and the tiny shops there. Well, I want one regardless, because I think they’re so cosy. Although there are no Dutch retailers of the brand, we could always order one on-line.

I’m dreaming, of course. There’s still plenty of life in our Bugaboo Cameleon.

We have bought a couple of nice items of baby clothing at Hugin & Mugin, though. We developed a soft spot for this Danish brand during a past trip to Iceland.

Tomorrow, we’re off across the very expensive Øresundsbron (Oresund Bridge) to Malmö and then up through southern Sweden on the long drive to the capital, Stockholm. This will be the first time any of us has been to Sweden, so we’re very excited.

Today, we went on a long walk out to the Frederiksberg neighbourhood of Copenhagen and then through a rather large park. The forecast was for rain, but it never quite happened, bar a few spits here and there.

There’s a limit to what you can accomplish in a city like Copenhagen in the winter, especially with a toddler in tow. Museums and galleries aren’t really our bag at the best of times. We prefer just walking around town, through the different neighbourhoods and parks, stopping every now and again for coffee and to recharge.

Given Copenhagen’s excellent gastronomic reputation and the cold windy weather, it’s hardly surprising, then, that we seem to be doing a lot of eating and drinking on this trip.

I must recommend La Glace, Copenhagen’s oldest cake shop. This place serves the most mouth-watering cakes and hot chocolate. You simply can’t come to this town and not eat here at least once. Be prepared to jostle for a table, though.

Although the hot chocolate (varm chokolade) is expensive at 57 kr. per person, the thing you need to know is that the staff will happily refill your pot for free. It comes with a plate full of flødeskum; that’s whipped cream to you. Delicious, and just what you need to fend off the elements in the windy winter.

Similarly, Wanna B is a cosy little café with great food. We stopped there for lunch today. Its burgers and coffee were commendable.

Yesterday, we had lunch at Ida Davidsen‘s world-famous smørrebrød restaurant. You can’t even see the bread underneath for the toppings piled on top. Caviar and smoked salmon on an open-faced sandwich. Or how about plaice, prawns and crayfish tails? No wonder smørrebrød (the Danish open-faced sandwich) is also world-famous.

And then there’s La Galette. Tucked away up an indistinct alley, you could easily walk right past it, but then you’d be missing out on its delicious buckwheat Brittany pancakes. I found it very reminiscent of Ti Couz in San Francisco, as Breton crêpes are like no other.

Yes, at any time of year. Copenhagen is a great place to put on weight whilst treating your taste-buds.