travel report 7 - northern exposure

All I need now for my perfect northern exposure week is a cute brunette, a strange sort of Hippy DJ who used to have sex with my ex-wife, and a former Astronaut Mayor. And a Moose. Of course none of these things will actually make my bodily shell believe that it is in Alaska, so I will just get right to it, and tell you about my Scandinavian Experience instead.

Random Fun Fact: The Swedes think that the Finns are way blonder than they are.

First of all, this time I was not language confused. It was quite clear to me after basking in the Croatian 35 degree sun for a week, that when I hit Stockholm I was now not in Kansas anymore (forgive the plagiarism, I am not a fan of the movie, but that line just works so nicely). I did not say s'cusi or pardon to everybody, and I was not worried about my stuff getting stolen out of my car. I did however notice a few rather pecular scandinathings.

It started at Stockholm Airport. Happily I strolled along, not suspecting any tomfoolery or shenanigans. I was after all in rational, safe, utterly selfcontrolled Sweden. Here the babes are supposed to be blond, the cars either look like tanks or are made by weapons firms and never in a million years would you expect to get ripped off at the airport in true south east asia fashion.


(I must add that I only ever had great experiences with tuktuks)










But believe it or not, that is what happened: Little Peter rolls up to the train ticket machine for buy ticket to center of Stockholm. Ticket asks for 220 of hard (honestly) earned coins. I about drop my ambitions to find a blond in a tank or fighter jet as I look for the next plane out of this utterly irrational, unsafe, un-selfcontrolled country to which my plane ticket from Austria was 47 Euros and where the train ticket to town costs 5 times as much!

Oh right, the Swedes use Kronas. They are not asking for Euros. Wtf, I think, who does that anymore? I understand if you dont want to give up your Sterling, that just sounds to good to be traded in for the Teuro, but Kronas from Sweden? I go to exchange money, feeling a bit strange as while travelling through 7 countries in EU I have not had to do that, am therefore not used to gifting the exchange fee to the Cambio joint, Q.E.D feel ripped off like a headless chicken in the puebla on El Día de los Muertos. After the exchange I realize that the return ticket to and from the city costs more than my flight even though it is not in Euros anymore. Of course you know that this is absolutely intolerable to Peter. Rip me off in Bangkok and Chitzen Itza - gringo prices, thats cool. But Stockholm? Surely you kid!

I search for alternatives: Bus, other trains, anything. Swedish ice queen looks me cold in the eye, says "There is another train, but you have to take a bus to it, and than change again. It takes very long". Sounds like a mexican nightmare. I am now afraid of the con artistry of the Swedes. I did not see it coming, so was not prepared for it. What will happen next? Shellgames in dark corners? Girls inviting me home, only to be "surprised" by their husbands who then demand hush money? Pickpockets the likes of which a poor naive Austrian has never seen, even after the east opening of the EU? I buy the bloody ticket, as I think Lisa is already wondering for which scam I fell. Cant make her worry, she is 5 month pregnant.

You ask for the lesson from this: Dont give train monopoly transport to airport. And be happy that the train into Vienna is only 8 Euros.

Lisa, her husband Pål and their sweet son Cesar where so kind to put up this itenarant Austrian at their pad around the corner from Kungsgatan. I had not seen Lisa in about 10 years. We attended QUT in Brison, Queensland together. So amazing to see her all growed up.

This is a foto at Millesgården and the Kårfalks. I dont know if you ever plan on going to Sweden after reading my above rant, but if you do, go check this Swedish Dali of the bronze statue out. Let me show you:









This floats my boat.










I also checked out Stockholms old town, this is me and Lisa in front of the castle of the King. I don't know why the Austrians ever thought not having a King would be cool.





I mean we could stand in front of the Hofburg (pic left) and say "This is where the king hangs, and out at Schönbrunn he chills in the Summer".




Random Fun Fact: The Finns think that the Swedes are all way blonder than they are.

Walking around Stockholm, especially the part that I stayed at, one can not help but notice that the guys really like pretty suits and the girls all shop at the nicest labels. If Assar wears one of these suits to work (and I know he owns them, looks good in them, too) he would very quickly be labeled at least metrosexual, which in Arizona is only one small step from that dreaded label of a fashionable man who likes skin products (I dont know that much about you - do you Assar?). There exists of course an age old urban myth that Swedish girls are exceptionally fine specimen of their species, the female one that is. In the past I have tended to disagree as I visited Stockholm on a cold winter weekend 15 years ago, and politely thought, as is my nature, that they must all be very thickly dressed in many layers. Now, that I was there during a few late summer days, I must reverse my thinking. Yes they are exceptionally pretty, and strange as it may seem to some of you I have not been to a single bar/club/meatmarket outside of Vienna in the last two month. This can only mean one of a few things: I am old/I am cold/I am as always/I am stupid. You figure it out. In any case, the Swedes are the Japanese of Europe when it comes to being label conscious.

After this longwinded analysis of Swedish anatomy and fashion sense, without any pictures to prove my points no less (what do you want me to do, get stalker arrested?) I move on to a much more fun topic. Yes, there are funner topics than calling Swedes beautiful if gay acolytes to modern consumerism. Case in point being the Vasa museum. I know! You didnt believe me.

Random Fun fact: Swedes and Finns are equally blond.

This wonderful ship, the Vasa, not just any ship mind you, but actually named after the Swedish royal family, was built to great fanfare and was made to strike shock and awe into the Poles. We all know how those things go. Although why anyone would bother with the Poles, apart from taking their country apart as buffer between Russia, Prussia and Austria is quite beyond me. In any case this ship took three years to build, carried 64 cannons and was launched in 1628.

It was painted in gaudy colors and had funny figures of submissive Polish nobility carved into its bow. The who is who of Sweden of 1628 attended as the mighty ship fired a salut in celebration of this achievement seconds after being launched. And proceeded to sink into Stockholm harbour 3 minutes later. I am sure Jan Sobieski (see picture to left) was terrified of the Swedish naval might after this couragous display.



In typical confident scandinavian (in any other country in the world this would have been stricken from the historic record) fashion the Vasa has been dug up from the harbour floor in 1961 were it was amazingly well preserved by the frigid baltic sea. For us all to see, stands here this impressive if slightly off-kilter ship, as a lesson in how not to build one.

Did I mention Jan Sobieski? Again I must tax your outstanding historical knowledge base. This is the same Sobieski who in 1683 heroically beat the Turks into submission with his cavalary in front of the gates of Vienna. One man's friend is apparently another man's enemy. Of course we thanked the Poles for saving Christendom by using their country as punching bag between the aforementioned countries. What can I say? There is a reason why the term Real Politik was coined by a Secretary of State with a German accent. And his name wasn't Metternich.

In the end the Poles lost the sea battles against the Swedes, who managed just fine without the Vasa.

And I managed just fine to get back onto that disgrace of a train, to catch my flight to even colder Finland. I just drank myself into oblivion with Finlandia Wodka before paying the ticket. As we all, and any good Russian, know Wine and Cognac are for the heart. While Wodka is for the soul, when it is really hurting. As mine was after submitting to the train krona terror yet again.

The story of Finland, the surely most asocial (I kid, I kid) country in the world, I will tell another day, after I get my China Visa.