What We Love about Stockholm

Um, everything. More specifically:

The city itself. The architecture of the buildings. The series of islands, bridges and waterways. It all combines in a magical way to give the city that je ne sais quoi.

The people. Forget dreamy statements about how friendly they are (I mean, they are, but that’s not the point).  I just never knew they made people so pretty.

The weather was sunny and warm. Our needs are simple.

This: 

Baggage carousel at Stockholm airport.

... because one of my greatest travel pet peeves is when people crowd the baggage carousel. This is the first airport I’ve ever seen that recognizes that people don’t have the common sense to stand back until their bag arrives so that everyone can see better. If they add a second line 10 steps farther back to delineate where kids must wait while adults retrieve bags, I will start my immigration paperwork immediately.

The food is the best we’ve had on the trip. Likely because Stockholm is the most cosmopolitan of our stops, but whatever the reason the gourmet offerings have been appreciated. More on food in the region as a whole another day….

The city (country?) is incredibly eco-conscious.  Food is organic more often than not. Trash bins are incredibly complicated because of all the sorting required – a how-to class would have been useful. Reminders to avoid food waste are common. Every road seems to include a protected bike lane. Public transport is extensive and easy, and marketing points out that it is a responsible choice – nothing wrong with a little programming of the masses. 

AD asked me to include that he appreciates the culture of jaywalking that permeates the city. Sights to see - no time to wait for the light!

Maybe it is because we have recently reached the end of their long, dark winter, but apparently parking yourself on the sunny patio of a café or restaurant early in the afternoon for wine/beer/champagne is a thing.  

There is one part of the visit we didn’t like – the krona. Come on, Sweden. You are in the EU so get with the program and adopt the euro.  The math is harder to convert dollars to krona, which of course means that I didn’t convert and will receive a surprise when I check the credit card bill.

I really can’t say enough about Stockholm. Trust me and just go. It has joined Paris and Venice on my list of favorite European cities so we will be back!

View from City Hall. Seriously, who wouldn't want to move to this city?!

Wrapping Up Lapland

Alas, AD and I did not see the aura borealis because the Lapland sky was blanketed with clouds every night of our stay.  We did, however, wake up to a winter wonderland of new snow on our last morning and unanimously voted the Lapland adventure a huge success despite the lack of northern lights.

Sports in Lapland

Cross-country skiing. For our last day in the great north, we set out on cross-country skis to explore the snowy paths through the forest.  We are undaunted by the fact that we have no ski outerwear.  Since I wear ski layers to run in cold weather, why not wear my running pants to ski? Other than the fact that my running pants aren’t winterized, no reason at all.  I may look ridiculous in flimsy running tights, but I can’t imagine that anyone notices since my ski partner sports long johns and gym shorts. Oh yeah, and my pink stocking cap.  Something about the long johns-shorts combo makes AD look like he has scrawny little chicken legs that are so funny that I was in the fetal position in the igloo, laughing with tears streaming down my face. I could hardly speak. He was not amused and forbade me from taking photos. So I could only sneak this one from behind, which really doesn’t capture the chicken leg effect – it’s something about the seaming in the front that does it:

I can confirm that he was not skiing in a skirt.

I’ve only been on cross-country skis once before, and the downhill skiing skills I have are completely useless, so I’m a bit of a disaster waiting to happen on the trails.  It does prove to be a good learning experience though.  A nice Finnish man (who looks uncannily like Anthony Hopkins) stops his progress to teach me how to go uphill when he sees me struggle.  I also have the opportunity to learn to recognize one phrase in the otherwise impenetrable Finnish language: “slow your out-of-control crazy skiing self down because you are about to shoot across a road.” I did not know what it meant the first time I saw it, but I’m a fast learner.

One of my better moments.

Unfortunately, neither the signs nor the nice Finnish man teach me how to survive big downhill sections of the trail. For that, I must turn to AD.

Me: Teach me how to turn and stop.

AD: Don’t worry about that. Just bend your knees and ride out the downhill.

Me: [Glare]

AD: [Shoves me over the crest of the hill.]

And that’s why the photo of him in long johns made it to the blog. 

Luggage sledding (soon to be an Olympic sport). Upon arrival and departure, our bags travel between reception and the glass igloo atop sleds.  To be clear, those are sleds without steering or brakes.

This place could use a bellman. 

Landscape

During the transfer to/from the airport and while we skied, we pondered what about the landscape gave it a look so different from the wilderness we know back home in BC.  The forest looks softer and lacks the rugged drama of BC. Trees are less fluffy and mere hills (I don’t believe they would qualify as mountains) have a “tree line” above which nothing grows, which I can only assume is a result of such a cold and often dark climate. In many ways, the landscape lacks a certain wow factor with its lack of real mountains and its slightly anemic looking trees, but it still manages to be absolutely breathtaking because of the endlessness of the forests. OK and we saw reindeer in the wild on the way to the airport so I’ll forever love the place.

Marketing Fail

Kids, time for dinner. Tonight we are eating Santa’s reindeer!

Glad Pask

That's "Happy Easter" in Swedish!

I'm out being touristy. More stories later. Enjoy your chocolate eggs in the meantime.

Dogsledding in Lapland

We booked a dogsled outing in Lapland and I was giddy with anticipation, emailing a friend about my “date with the huskies. “ Upon arrival at the “Husky Farm” we changed into particularly unflattering snowsuits, but I was still incredibly excited despite the fashion faux pas. And then we exited the building and saw all the dogs.  Each had its own little house, their areas were amazingly clean and the dogs looked healthy. It was the sheer number of dogs, at least 150, that made my heart sink. I’ve suffered a fair amount of moral angst about our tourism choice ever since.

For the most part I think we got lucky. The owners of this particular dogsled operation clearly care about and take good care of their dogs. They seem very knowledgeable about and dedicated to dogsledding and the required training.  And the dogs seemed happy and were exceptionally well socialized, one could even say cuddly. It would be impossible to deny the pure joy the dogs exhibited when they got to pull.  AD found the dogs overhyped and pondered whether it was similar to zoo animals that become a bit unhinged in too small cages, but it just reminded me of when Raleigh was on a flyball relay team and would almost explode with excited anticipation while he awaited his turn – he wanted to run sooo badly. That was the nervous energy I think/hope I saw.  The question I keep asking myself is whether this is any worse than a family in the burbs that banishes the “family” dog to a lonely existence in the back yard.  These sled dogs regularly do what they love, and they adore the trainer, climbing over her when they have the chance.  But… any business run on the exploitation of animals is absolutely ripe for abuse. We would not participate again because it is a vote with our dollars (euros) for an operation we don’t really support from an ethical perspective. Really, 150 dogs! How can each one get the proper attention?

Now that I’ve laid bare my guilty conscience, I have to say that we had a fantastic time.  It’s true, even if I feel kind of bad to admit it.

After over a week away from Oliver I suffer a little bit of doggy withdrawal, so I loved the warm welcome I received when I met members of our team:

These two dogs were complete clowns. The only reason they didn’t careen the sled into a tree is because the rest of the team was a bit more professional.  The one with the husky face loved to swerve off course to eat snow, as captured on camera as proof:

See a nose trench she created on the right side of the trail as she ate snow at full speed along the way?

The other one had a few snow snacks as well but was just more generically goofy. When one of the employees tried to take a photo of us on the sled, he had to wait for her to stop lying on her back wiggling around.

This was as serious as he could hope they would pose. 

Of course those two were my favorites. 

As for the sledding itself, what a fun way to see winter countryside. With the proper warm gear, I can see that a trek across the arctic tundra with a sled team would be an amazing experience.  Uninitiated amateurs such as ourselves can’t be trusted to get commands correct, so you don’t use any.  The trainers release the hounds and you hold on for dear life, hope the dogs stay on the trail (or at least a majority of the team in the event you have a couple of nutballs pulling you) and use a foot brake that digs into the snow to slow or stop.  At first I felt bad to use the brake because the dogs are so excited to pull that they just keep going, whether they actually advance or not because of the brake.  I became less sympathetic when I realized that I should have had extra helpings at breakfast and maybe loaded my pockets with a few rocks – they could keep going when I stood on the brake.  I got quite the quality leg workout forcing the brake deeper into the path when we needed to stop. And then one of those cute dopey ones would turn around and stared at me as if to say, “what the heck are you doing? I need to eat more snow drifts – let’s get going.”  Careful when you release the brake – the team strains against the harnesses and you fly when they take off.

Guess who forgot his hat? I think pink suits him though.

After our tour through the woods where we took turns driving/keeping the death grip on the sled, we met the puppies, which melted my heart.  They were far more interested in puppy wrestlemania than they were in me, but I got to squish some of the cuties anyway.

Two month old husky mix, but definitely 100% husky eyes! In the positive column for this operation, they aren’t particularly concerned with full breeds in their breeding program. They do have full-blood huskies, but they have more mixes because the most important thing for them is a healthy dog that likes to pull.

Lapland Finland

This is our home for a few days in Lapland as we cross our fingers and hope to see the aurora borealis:

Our igloo is just a stone’s throw from Ivalo in Finland. For the uninitiated, go up to the Arctic Circle and then continue north for a really long time. To 69 degrees north to be exact, which just so happens to be farther north than even the province of Quebec extends:

Thanks to the ExodusTravels website for a better map than I could create on Google Maps.

Death by freezing has been a big concern of mine. I have a parka and cozy Ugg boots. How unfortunate that Lapland wasn’t on the itinerary when I packed and I elected to leave both of those at home in the interest of minimalist packing. I knew it was a bad omen when my suitcase was underweight at check-in. This is exactly why I usually bring everything. I should have at least thrown in my ridiculously warm Ugg gloves. Sure the black fuzz turns my fingernails black, but so will frostbite. On a more positive note, the lack of warm gloves gave me a valid excuse to buy hand-knitted woolen mittens from a market stall in Tallinn.  Sure they are a little mishappen, the thumb isn’t exactly placed correctly and I no doubt paid a tourist price, but I kind of love them in their originality, and the sweet little old Estonian woman taught me how to pronounce some Estonian words. 

We’ve enjoyed the comforts of our glass igloo for two cloudy nights, which means no luck seeing the northern lights. We have one last chance tonight.  Even if we strike out, though, the igloo is fantastic.  With bright sunshine during the day, the temperature inside skyrockets and it feels kind of like we are at the beach. The bed adjusts up like a lounge chair so we read, nap and snack with an amazing view but no need for sunscreen.

At night, when it is only really dark for about four hours and grey for the rest, the igloo experience feels like camping, but with heat, indoor plumbing and no creepy crawly things. And the incredible silence of camping that is so sweet. Win-win.

Sunrise from the igloo.

The other thing we love about this place?  Conversations at the restaurant and activity bookings go like this:

Resort employee: Would you like to charge that to your bill? 

AD/me: Yes, please charge it to Igloo 12.

Seriously, how often in life do you get to use that line?