Farewell, Sweden!

I'm sad to say that this may be my last blog post, as we are actively preparing for our departure from Sverige. It's a bittersweet thing, dear readers. I absolutely cannot wait to see our families and to once again be able to read newspapers and restaurant menus, but leaving our new friends, Helsingborg, and Swedish bakeries is more difficult than I expected. 

I've been a little irresponsible as a blogger lately, as I never told you about our trip to Gothenburg or about Europeade, an annual folk festival that Helsingborg hosted this past weekend. Here's an example of the sort of thing you might see walking around town during Europeade:

It's crazy that our six-month adventure is reaching its end. I'm proud to say that we maximized our time in Europe by seeing and doing more than I ever thought possible. In no particular order, here are some of my favorite memories from our half-year adventure:

• The friends we've made: Julie and Simon; Tammy, John, and JP; and the lovely HR ladies at BorgWarner
• Our day floating in Iceland's Blue Lagoon
• Fika and Swedish desserts; namely, princess cake and raspberry caves
• Swedish holidays; especially Walpurgis Eve, Swedish National Day, Midsummer, and the totally awesome way Swedes celebrate Easter
• Having access to the woods, the sea, beautiful landscapes, gardens, castles, and numerous parks, all within walking distance of my home
• The city of Stockholm
• The many long walks I take every day
• Getting engaged to Erin Allen, the best adventure buddy on earth
• The Church of St. Mary, my favorite place to sit in all of Helsingborg

Thank you, Sweden, for being so kind and generous to us these past six months and for all that you've taught us. 

Norway Part II: Bergen

A full 24 hours after we were supposed to leave Oslo, we finally boarded an afternoon train on the Bergen Railway for a seven-hour trip that is widely considered the most scenic train ride in the world. My poor Erin was weak from being horrendously ill, but was at least able to gather some sustenance from a few small food items without seeing them again later. We were both concerned about how the train ride would treat her, so she wore yoga pants for as much leverage as humanly possible.

The train was pleasantly cool and spacious and filled with outdoorsy types in weatherproof jackets and hiking boots with huge packs of gear. As the train zipped down the tracks, the hubbub of Oslo quickly melted away and left us with lush greenery and mountains that were eventually joined by white-water rivers, waterfalls, lakes, and an unquestionable sense of peace and quiet for the rest of the journey. Occasionally, we'd see a colorful house perched on a mountainside or a farm with sheep roaming on unfenced land, but the signs of life predominantly came from the landscape itself.

As we climbed in elevation, the mountains became capped with snow, the houses became less frequent, and there were more lakes and waterfalls that looked both unbearably cold and alluringly refreshing at once. We got high enough in the mountains that my ears popped a few times.

  
Our train arrived in Bergen a few minutes after 10:00 p.m., and we immediately collapsed in bed at the Scandic Hotell Ørnen.

After breakfast the next morning, a stable but weak Erin and I set out for our walking tour of Bergen, an undeniably beautiful city surrounded by Seven Mountains and the self-proclaimed "gateway to the fjords." We both agreed that Bergen seemed to offer more of what we'd expected to find in Norway. 

Bryggen

Shielding Erin's sensitive stomach from the smells emanating from the popular fish market on the harbor, we walked through a vibrant downtown and made our way to Bryggen ("the wharf"), a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the location of Bergen's oldest buildings. Originally built by traders nearly 1,000 years ago, Bryggen comprises dozens of colorful, closely spaced wooden buildings in what feels like its own little town. It has suffered many fires over the centuries, and an effort to restore what remains is underway — the oldest of the 62 remaining buildings is 300 years old. Bryggen is now home to a museum, shops, cafes, and pubs, including one nightclub that is appropriately called Bergen Nightclub.

Bergenhus Fortress

After walking around Bryggen and looking in at least eight shops selling sweaters and vests made with "genuine Norwegian wool," we moseyed over to the Bergenhus Fortress, a place dating back to the 13th century where the king of Norway used to live. The Rosenkrantz Tower is one of the remaining buildings left on the Bergenhus grounds, which I wanted to tour because I heard there was a dungeon inside. Who doesn't like a good dungeon? Erin sat on a bench to regain some strength for a few minutes before we bought tickets from a nice woman dressed in medieval clothing and went inside. 

The place was confusing enough that I'm not sure I ever actually saw the dungeon. For starters, there were winding staircases — akin to those we had some difficulty with at Kärnan — on both sides of the tower which seemingly led to different places, so I'm not sure what I did or did not see besides a bunch of gray stone walls. We did get some neat pictures from the tower roof, though.

Fløibanen Funicular

Our Bergen guide described the Fløibanen Funicular — a tram that takes you to the top of Mount Fløyen — as Bergen's most popular tourist attraction. As I am a travel blogger and we are both all-around seekers of good times, we naturally wanted to find out what the big draw was all about.

After purchasing tickets, we got in a queue with hundreds of other tourists in what felt like a subway tunnel. A blue or a red tram would appear every few minutes, letting off about 75 people as another 75 people climbed aboard (yes, I counted). After giving a dirty look to a woman trying to shove her way past me, we got on the red tram and took the seven-minute ride up the side of the mountain to get a look at the truly spectacular view.

Fjord Tour

On our second full day in Bergen, we did our other duty as tourists and signed up for an afternoon fjord tour. Of the dozens of tours of varying lengths and destinations available, we chose a 4.5-hour cruise on a catamaran to the innermost part of Osterfjord, a narrow inlet called Mostraumen that is only just wide enough to allow boats through. We started out on the upper deck for the best view, but the wind and the lower temperature on the water eventually brought us below deck for warmth. In the harbor, we rode past a couple large cruise ships with senior citizens happily waving at us, and those of us with souls waved back at them.

The pics below are some of those I took on the tour. To be sure, it offered some of the prettiest sights I've ever seen.

This was the last big trip we had planned during our time in Europe, which is nearing its end. We do have a couple more day trips in mind here in Sweden before heading back to the U.S. next month. Stay tuned!

Norway Part I: Oslo

Norway has been near the top of my list of places to visit for a long time, and we considered it a "must see" during our time in Scandinavia. Our week-long trip began in the capital city of Oslo and ended in the second most populous city of Bergen on the opposite coast. This post will focus on the good, the bad, and the ugly experiences we had in Oslo, with more details from our trip to follow later this week.

The Good

We landed in Oslo after an hour and 10 minute flight from Copenhagen, took an express train to Oslo's central station, and then dragged our suitcases on a 20-minute walk through a city awash with tourists. It was a warm and sunny Saturday with loads of street performers entertaining passersby as living statues, costumed men who appeared to be floating in midair, a stoic man blowing bubbles the size of small clouds, and clowns bending balloons into unknowable things. Much like when we were in Reykjavik, we were startled to hear so many Americans, a fact we also found apparent during our time in Bergen.

We stayed at Thon Hotel Rosenkrantz in central Oslo, which provided us with the best hotel breakfast either of us have ever had for reasons that involve sunny-side-up eggs, rosemary potatoes, traditional Scandinavian and British breakfast foods, and superb fresh-squeezed orange juice. There are about a million Thon hotels in Oslo, and every time we saw one I'd say, "look, there's another thong hotel," and then I'd giggle like a child.

After dropping off our suitcases, we headed out on foot to explore the immediate area surrounding the hotel. The first exciting thing we saw was the royal palace where King Harald V and his family reside. The palace majestically sits atop a hill overlooking the city center. It is surrounded by a peaceful, green park within walking distance of dozens of international embassies in a neighborhood that feels distinctly moneyed.

  
After exploring the waterfront, we made our way to Tjuvhomen, a borough jutting into the Oslo fjord. We had a dinner reservation at Eataly, where we dined on the ubiquitous pizza and wine that accompany us everywhere we go. The coolest thing about Tjuvhomen is the many sleek, modern, distinct buildings designed by 20 different architects lining the waterfront. The area has some neat fountains and sculptures surrounded by high-end shops and plenty of chic restaurants filled with good-looking, well-dressed people. There is also a bathing area where we saw some kids doing cannonballs into the fjord. Tjuvhomen is also home to a new contemporary art museum and an intriguing hotel called The Thief.

The pic below depicts a statue of a man on stilts that I liked quite a lot.

On our second day in Oslo, we continued our walking tour and headed over to the famous Oslo Opera House on the waterfront. The building was designed by the architectural firm Snøhetta, who won quite a few prestigious awards for the building's unique design. Visitors can walk along the roof for an inspiring view of the city and the unique experience of, well, walking on the roof of a famous building.

At some point that afternoon, I experienced the highlight of the trip. 

After lunch at a tapas place in a food hall called Mathallen Oslo, we ended what was meant to be our second and last night in Oslo at a gay bar called the London Pub. This place looks like your grandma's basement did in the 1970s. We happily sat in the dim, windowless light while breathing in stale cigarette smoke from 20 years ago and listening to Lionel Ritchie and forgotten club music from the early 90s. Because of the early hour, the place didn't have many patrons, but the people watching was still pretty good. We eagerly kept our eyes on a solo guy with a pint who was cruising the room. Unfortunately, we left before knowing how that story would end (fingers crossed).

Oslo: The Bad

In case you don't remember, I recently stepped on a bee and was stung on my right pinky toe. When we landed in Oslo, I had been battling an itchy rash over the top half of my foot and swollen toes for exactly a week with no relief in sight and some worry that I was having an allergic reaction. I had visited the pharmacy in Helsingborg on three separate occasions in hopeless search of Benadryl, but instead came away with several over-the-counter treatments that had no effect on my poor red foot. I was miserable, which was reflected during our time in Oslo and in the amount of sightseeing we accomplished. 

Facing a week-long vacation in which near-constant walking and hiking would sentence my toes to an itchy shoe prison, we wound up at the sykehus ("sick house"). The nurse brought out a doctor named Phillip, a gorgeous, tall drink of Norway who placed my ugly red foot on his thigh, proclaimed that the rash looked "quite peaceful," and told me that I could expect up to another week of misery. He then gave me the name of an anti-itch cream and sent me on my way.

The assurance from Phillip that I would not lose my foot was the end of "the bad." Unfortunately, dear readers, things would get ugly.

The Ugly

The morning of the day we were expected to board a train to Bergen, Erin arrived at breakfast with a stomach ache. This inconvenience would eventually evolve into something much, much uglier: the stomach flu.

My poor Erin was trapped in the hotel room for a full 30 hours, writhing around on the bed in near-darkness, periodically making hurried, uncomfortable trips to the bathroom, and begging me to put her out of her misery. Because of this, we wound up staying at the Rosencrantz branch of the Thong Hotel for another night and had to re-purchase our train tickets to Bergen.

The moral of this story is that, while my view may be skewed by circumstances, our time in Oslo wasn't the greatest. Stay tuned for our journey to Bergen and the western fjords in my next post! 

Beaches, Båstad, and Ven

Beach weather settled in for about a week and then abruptly left southern Sweden with another round of wind and rain. During those seven glorious days, however, Erin and I spent as much time as we could a) sweating, b) in our bathing suits, and c) complaining about the heat. It is, after all, the first real warmth we've felt in close to a year.  

A number of other things have happened since my last blog post:

• Gay marriage was legalized by the U.S. Supreme Court.
• I cried alone in a public place upon hearing the news in that first bullet.
• I turned 35.
• I stepped on a bee and got my first bee sting.
• I bought a pair of shorts and wore them in public.
• We started watching Sons of Anarchy on Netflix.

Helsingborg Beaches

On our first evening of beach weather, we took an after-dinner walk to the promenade and dipped our toes in the chilly Öresund for the very first time in our nearly five months in Sweden. We threw a couple sandwiches, collected a few rocks, and then sat in the sand near the nude bathing house while staring off toward Denmark and periodically mumbling a few things. Please note that we didn't deliberately sit in front of the nude bathhouse; it's just where we wound up. They're perfectly common here, and the few I've seen are set a short distance from the beach, propped up on stilts over the sound, and apparently involve separate areas for men and women who enjoy a sauna and a dip in the Öresund. 

Within 10 or so minutes of wondering aloud whether or not people actually swim naked in public view, a nude man popped out of the water and ascended the stairs toward the bathing house, followed by two naked ladies descending on the opposite staircase. Do I want to experience this for myself? Yeah, I do. Are Americans too uptight about nudity to have an equivalent near public beaches in the U.S.? Yeah, they are.

By the weekend, the beaches in Helsingborg were completely packed with people in numbers I've never seen before in this town. We took our place amongst the glistening, half-naked masses and let the sharp contrast in temperature between the beating sun and the cool water keep us in check. On only one occasion did I submerge myself completely; we otherwise stood in water up to our knees while accomplishing some really great people watching. 

Båstad

On another beach-friendly day, we took a trip to Båstad, a beautiful little seaside town about 55 km / 34 mi north of Helsingborg that hosts the Swedish Open. We trekked out to the marina, a quiet and serene spot lined with shops, bars, and little cafes in tiny, cabin-like structures overlooking a small beach. Our first stop was for an outdoor beer to cool us off.

After indulging in my first pale ale of the season, we walked through the marina until we reached another beach nestled a stone's throw (a thrown sandwich?) away from the tennis court as well as just a few cozy hotels and restaurants comprising the downtown area. To give you a sense of what I mean when I say "cozy," we saw quite a few people cruising around in their bathrobes, including one robed woman who climbed on a bike and rode away like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Erin nabbed the pic below of two unsuspecting passers-by who are clearly not wearing hotel-issued bathrobes. Either they are locals or they came prepared.

Here are a few shots of the area near the tennis court.

We were not expecting how absolutely amazing the beach is in Båstad. The water was not more than ankle deep for at least 40 meters from the shore, and the waves came in just gently enough to roll over our feet as we waded out. There were also a couple of sand bars, and we found one to perch on for much of the time we were there. 

In the background of the first pic below, you'll see Båstad's own nude bathing house.

As an aside, there were a couple of teenage boys hanging out with three teenage girls on the beach near us, and one of those poor fools was trying so desperately hard to impress the ladies that it was actually embarrassing to watch. While his friend hung out acting cool and casual, the other kid was making all types of noise, trying to attract sea gulls, and even flopped around on the beach at one point. It was a wretched sight.

After a couple hours on what might be the best beach I've ever set foot on, we made our way out in search of dinner. The first place we stumbled on was Pepe's Bodega, an obviously Mexican-sounding place that also happened to have a Corona truck parked outside. However, you won't find a taco or a quesadilla on the menu at this bodega; nay, they are fine purveyors of pizza and burgers. Keeping with tradition, we happily ordered a cheese pizza piled high with pesto and arugula and fancy cocktails that tasted like fruit punch. Pepe's fondly reminded me of El Conquistador, the Thai restaurant I wrote about in a previous blog post.

The Island of Ven

Ven is an island located just outside of Landskrona in the Öresund between Sweden and Denmark. We had to take a 30-minute ferry ride to reach the roughly 7.5 square km island (approx. 4.6 square mi). Because of its size, the most common way to get around is to rent one of several hundred yellow bikes. There are a few cars on the island as well as nearly 400 year-round residents who live in lovely homes surrounded by fields of wheat and rapeseed. 

  

Our first stop on Ven was to Pumpans Cafe, an unexpectedly all-vegetarian restaurant in an adorable old house where we ordered two giant plates of roasted vegetables, homemade bread, goat cheese, and hummus, which we ate at a picnic table surrounded by trees, shrubs, and flowers. It's been awhile since I've been able to order such a meal at a restaurant, so I ate A LOT and my belly was SO HAPPY when we left. We then climbed aboard our yellow bikes and pedaled through the Tycho Brahe museum, an homage to the Danish astronomer and nobleman who had two observatories and a castle on Ven in the 16th century.

Our final stop on Ven was to the Spirit of Hven, a whiskey distillery, restaurant, and resort. It seemed only appropriate that I sample something made on site, and the gentleman behind the bar whipped me up an old fashioned with the house-made single-malt whiskey.

   
Tomorrow, we shove off for a week-long trip to Norway. Until next time!