photos! 1 currants // 2, 3 stockholm flea market + book sale // 4 havrebollar – they taste kind of like cookie dough rolled in coconut // 5 downtown apartments // 6 picnic overlooking the city // 7, 8 salty black licorice candy, bulk candy // 9 fancy building // 10 porridge with lingonberry jam
I’m spending six weeks poking around Europe, visiting friends and clients and (as you can see) stuffing my face with fantastic food. You can read about previous travel adventures here.Photo evidence to the contrary, I swear to God I’ve been doing things other than eating here in Stockholm. Really!
* Watching 36,000 people (!) run through the streets of Stockholm at midnight and dancing to a fantastic reggaeton dj at the finish line. Also, witnessing a dude running in vinyl shorts and a full-faced gimp mask. You sir, are one committed runner. We made our way back to the train station while the race was still on and had to cross the street three times – which meant finding an opening in the huge flood of racers, jumping into the race and running along with them (and sort of sideways) in our dresses in order to get to the other side.
* Picnicing on the hills overlooking the city with my friend Emmy. To the tunes of an actual old-school, battery powered, cassette-playing stereo. Awesome.
* Navigating the metro system like a boss. “Oh, yeah I can totally meet you Skanstull. I’ll just jump on the green line at Friedhemsplan. No bigs.” You guys, I get so impressed with myself when I navigate public transport.
* Attempting not to stare, open-mouthed, at everyone who walks the streets of the Sodermalm neighborhood. It’s like The Sartorialist, in real life. In other news: WHY DO YOU GET TO BE BOTH TAN AND NATURALLY BLOND? Where is the justice in that?
* Ordering a latte/salad/metro card using my American phrasing “Could I have a _______ please?” and getting the response “Yes! Of course!” I think maybe I’m saying it wrong? The staff seems to think that I’m actually questioning their ability to give me the thing I’m requesting.
* Watching the blue-suited, silver-helmeted guards patrolling outside the royal palace. They all seem to be 19 and ever so slightly embarrassed.
* Dancing to a dj, at a club-of-sorts, under a bridge (!!) My 19-year-old self would have been so proud. Europe! DJs! Non-traditional club space!
* Wanting to compliment every Swedish dude I meet on their impeccable manners, fashion sense, and just general sweetness. It’s like an entire country of men you want your younger sister to date. At the under-the-bridge club, I saw a group of eight well-dressed guys arrive with their umbrellas (it was sprinkling) and messenger bags. They then made a pile of their stuff, formed a circle around said stuff and danced.
Their version of hitting on you? Maybe dancing in your vicinity while turning ever so slightly in your direction and trying to make eye contact with you. No butt grabbing, no anonymous grinding, no pick up lines shouted over the music. So sweet!
If I’m missing anything awesome, let me know!