Scene 34 - 23rd July
Linkoping has become comfortable for us. No surprise there; we are living in a bachelor pad (at least we think so). And of course, being Asian, you can't leave out the "for free!" part. So, yes, we have become comfortable sitting quietly in Linkoping.
Before I started this account, I would reckon that not many of you would actually have known where Linkoping is, and even for those of you who recognise the word, I don't reckon you would have known how to pronounce it. There's good reason - its not really a tourist hot-spot. But, that being said, is Sweden?
Well, what would you say is the first thing that comes to mind with the word "Sweden"? Stockholm? Nobel Prizes? Socialism? (really?) IKEA? (that's a popular one).
To me, (and a lot of people who listen to the rubbish that I speak) the first thing that comes to mind is Henrik Larsson. And not the footballer. In any case, while this particular national icon of Sweden resides in Linkoping, the rest tend to conglomerate further north - and hence, there we will be going.
Besides, our flight to London is from Stockholm, so we don't really have much of a choice.
It also means that we are sacrificing the comforts of home-stay once again for that of hostel-stay. It should be re-iterated that there is no comfort like home-stay. And I'm not saying it from the Asian stereotype of cost-consciousness which we all (save Larsson, of course) fulfill.
Departure from Linkoping in the Larsson-mobile (can I call it that?) is approximately around noon, mainly because one does not usually feel like waking up too early when one stays in a bachelor pad and one has been travelling Europe for the past few weeks. After our usual yoghurt och knäckebröd, we make our way across the Swedish countryside once more, guided by yonder satellites (GPS) all the way.
1400hrs, we arrive at the most well known Swedish landmark.
Yes. IKEA.
True story. Apparently, the world's largest IKEA outlet is appropriately in its home country's capital city (Stockholm). Do note, we aren't sure about this fact, but hey who'd know? Considering we are mostly foreigners who are flying budget (flight) back to London in a few days time (sigh) - and budget doesn't allow too much luggage, in case you didn't know - we really don't have much business being in this place. But, for once, window-shopping is marginally attractive to us.
In fact, as we walk through this mega-centre, Gobi and I come up with great ideas for remodelling and re-designing furniture - basically creating innovative ideas for the future of Furniture. I think it was being inspired by the creative designs of IKEA. Its a similar feeling when you walk through Daiso.
If you don't know the feeling, go walk through Daiso. If you still don't, get an engineering degree and then walk through Daiso. If that still doesn't work, you probably have to go get an engineering degree from any non-Asian country away from rote-learning culture. Anyway, enough criticism of Education, and more telling of the story of Stockholm.
Where was I?
Oh yes, we scribble down these designs on the back of the paper we are supposed to make our orders with, with the pencils we are supposed to mark our orders with.
An interesting side note - these pencils were free. And if you knew Gobi (or his family, or any Indian in general) you'd know that we can't resist. If you have plenty of time, you could watch this: Mind Your Language Season 01 Episode 5. It IS a stereotype. And as all stereotypes are, it is engendered in truth. I think he took a total of 8. I took only 4. But it probably can be considered as a good souvenir for the folks back at home; and I'm sure he'll give one to Vibha and tell her it cost a lot. Just as sure as I am of she accepting it gratefully and putting it in a souvenir cabinet.
Anyway, most people don't go to IKEA to get free pencils. Gobi told Lase that the smartest part of IKEA's strategy was that they give the customer that joy of putting their furniture together while simultaneously saving the cost of assembly - brilliant business. Lase, who, as I have mentioned, has already given up arguing against white-man-superiority, agreed.
Lunch is at IKEA itself. Even back home, IKEA is famous for selling its famous Swedish Meatballs. I think it is called diversification, or something like that. Anyway, we have lunch there; and amazingly, the price, after conversion, is cheaper than the Swedish meatballs they sell in Singapore Ikea. Scam! But awesome food none-the-less. I think it cost me about S$5 in total (including drinks etc). Considering this is Sweden, which is famously expensive (even if its not the most expensive Scandinavian country), that's an absolute bargain.
The Giant Ikea is slightly outside Stockholm proper so we take awhile more before we are in Stockholm proper amongst the Islands.
Again, I think a brief introduction to the City on Islands is warranted. Why do they call it City on Islands? Erm. Because it is built on many Islands. It is the capital city and largest city in Sweden, and it is connected by lots and lots of bridges connecting the Islands together. It's quite an interesting concept to have a city built upon islands, if you ask me.
Ok I guess there's really not much to introduce to Stockholm.
Anyway, what is so special about Stockholm, is that for the first time, we aren't staying on dry land. Our hostel is a boat. Now, you'd probably have expected this in Venice; so probably this is a good time to mention that Stockholm is actually known somewhere sometimes as the Venice of the North. But here I would like to point out that that's a terrible misnomer. Lase boasted on the way here why not - Stockholm's water is clean. Remember the Venice canals and what they're used for? Now, Stockholm's water is clean enough, apparently, for drinking.
Anyway, we check into our boat, and get ready for exploration, knowing full well that the sun is not likely to set on us anytime soon.
One thing interesting, the weather has finally begun to seem like the European summers that I was familiar with - with the temperature not going above 20 degrees Celcius.. (Celcius was Swedish too! Woohoo!). Makes me terrified of how bad the Swedish winter would be like. Anyway, Stockholm is not a hustling bustling city like you'd probably expect from a city that is such a major business hub - its quiet.
Reminds me of Parkway Parade more than it does of Orchard Road.
As we walk aimlessly about in the City of Islands, we dodge among the numerous cyclists characteristic of any Scandinavian major city, and hop from one island to the next. On the way to the Royal Palace, we pass by an impressive building. Not to mention significant.
In this building has sat some of the greatest minds and hearts and people of generations of past; all waiting to receive their prize. Yes, this is the hall where the Nobel Prizes are given out. Interesting fact that you might not have known - Alfred Nobel was Swedish too. More on this later.
Anyway, at long last given the numerous distractions and the pleasant weather, we reach the Royal Palace.
Why we were so keen on visiting the Royal Palace can be explained simply in one word - Eugene. He wanted to visit his Aryan heritage. Plus he wanted to see the blonde princess of Sweden in hopes of wooing her successfully. Poor Henrik Larsson, been used as a stepping stone for greater things. I probably mentioned this before, but we started to realise that, surrounded by the multitude of other blonde-hair-blue-eyed swedes, Henrik Larsson was ordinary; just as Eugene was suddenly unique (recall the Swedish Lake incident).
But the princess wasn't there - turns out that this palace is just the official residence of the royal family; their summer home is elsewhere.
But at least there's no Horse Dung.
Walking back the sun is setting over the City of Islands. The temperature is dropping rapidly; it's bordering on uncomfortably cold at 15 degrees now.
Back on board, I check my email. I have not been able to keep in contact with Singapore very well thanks to a giant San Andreas Fault dividing my monitor screen; but I manage to check my email today - apparently (completely independently from our adventures today) my mum is redesigning my room's furniture. I briefly convey my surprise at the coincidentality of it all (that we just visited IKEA and that I was remodelling my room in my head while there), and then go back to hide out away from the rapidly falling temperatures.
Scene 35 - 24th July
Today we awoke to a cold morning in Stockholm, and we take that as an awesome sign that the weather is going to be kind to us today. Today we also awoke on board the Rygerford - the boat-cum-hostel that we are staying on. I still find it an interesting concept to be staying "at sea" because technically we are still docked. Yet when I look out the window its obvious that I'm on a boat.
Today we are off to see the Vasa. Its not big surprise to know that it is a ship - one that had sunk and was pulled up relatively recently. Lase hadn't seen it, and was keen on it - so we say okay. After all, we don't really know what else there could be to do in Stockholm. Apart from maybe kidnap someone and see what the syndrome is all about.
*
The queue to the Vasa museum is relatively short. Later we would realise that that's only because we have come to this place at a relatively ungodly hour. Early morning, city sleeps.
Now what is an account if you do not follow my learning path. For you know, the story of the Vasa is a very interesting one - its nothing like the story of the Titanic. Well, except for the fact that it sank on its maiden voyage. For four engineers on the trip, one conclusion was clear - never get an artist to do an engineers job. Result: the Vasa. She sailed out, only to collapse just a few minutes into her maiden voyage - let me reiterate, a few MINUTES - due to being blown by a slightly-more-than-a-breeze gust of wind. And into the Baltic fell her, with her countless ornaments and adornments.
The Vasa was a military ship, the grandest in the fleet, a measure of the grandness and the might of the Swedish Navy. Because of that, well, it looked like this:
I'm not sure if you need to be an expert on ships to realise that it looks a bit unstable. Basically the mast was way too high (which leads to a relatively high centre of gravity which leads to instability).
Credit to the artists - the ship is beautiful. And credit to the Baltic. Its special conditions preserved the ship from decay mostly, so that despite spending about 133 years at the bottom of the Baltic, its still hasn't completely rotted away. In fact, most of its ornaments are still there.
The ornaments are mainly stocked all around the museum, while the ship's main body dominates the foyer in the same was the dinosaur dominates the foyer in London's Natural History Museum.
As we exit the museum, we see the immensely long queue waiting to get in. After all, it is a Saturday.
*
Our general plan for today - which happens also to be our last full day in Stockholm - is to take a ferry ride just as we did Sydney. By the way we ended up getting lost on the ferries in Sydney. But this is Stockholm.
However, first up is a visit to another museum - the Nobel Museum.
As mentioned, Alfred Nobel was Swedish. However, apparently he was one of the first true global citizens and didn't really spend too much time in Sweden. But still, his museum is, ultimately, in Stockholm. Photography is not allowed as expected; and probably not much to say about it. Except for the fact that we have learnt that Alfred Nobel was a global citizen living in a time when global citizenship was unheard of. You wouldn't actually think too much about it, but the act of making the Nobel Prizes available to everyone regardless of nationality, in itself, was revolutionary and unheard of.
*
So, now, on to the islands. Unfortunately the weather is not too kind to us today. The insane heat wave of the rest of the Eurotrip has given way to some rain. And an incessant patter of rain, at that. Add that together with the strong winds and you don't really have the perfect weather to go out on a boat ride. But we do.
Finding the correct combination of ferries to get us places is hard in itself - remember it is Saturday and things don't work as often as they do on weekdays. After all, its Sweden, where holidays and a balanced lifestyle are appreciated and respected.
Nonetheless, we being us manage to find our way.
Its a very different type of rain from what we are used to back home. Its 'sharp' and biting, not wet and sloshy like Singapore Rain. Wind-breakers would protect us well from the rain, but unfortunately only Lase and I have them. Fortunately I have raincoats. Unfortunately, these raincoats are designed for Singapore Rain. To the random passer-by, Gobi and Eugene look like they're wearing plastic bags.
But we don't let the rain spoil our trip. We visit a fort - there's something significant about it - but I'm not too sure what though. Its a strange fort, though; it has very modern cannons mounted on its turrets, next to those ancient type of cannons.
To get here we actually had to change ferries somewhere, and the second trip was just across about 50m of water. Probably swim-able. But would probably be something like the climb-able-ness of the cliff at Lund. So we just take the second ferry.
There is a couple getting married at the Fort. Strange place to get married, I know, but we try to avoid being in any pictures out of courtesy while definitely being kay-poh (curious). There are steps to climb up to the top of the fort. So we climb them. Inside the fort, aptly we took refuge from the fine rain. On the roof, we are attacked by another assailant - a misplaced bumblebee. We still manage to enjoy the view.
The Island across the straits is actually that Island where we changed ferries, by the way. Anyway, after we get tired of dodging the wind and the rain (they themselves were quite vicious) and the bumblebee, we make our way back down to the wedding feast and from their circumvent Fort Island.
Gobi really looks like he's wearing a plastic bag when the wind blows, but when it stops, he looks a bit like GobiWan Kenobi. So he mimes holding a lightsaber and we promise to put it in using photoshop. (side note: that photo went MIA soon afterward)
*
Back across on to Ferry-Interchange Island (obviously these aren't their real names) we wait for our transfer back to Stockholm. Going back, we take a steamer, rather than a ferry. Difference being that it runs on steam. Another difference is that it takes at least 20min longer. But its the last of the ferries back, so we don't really have much of a choice. We trudge in cowering from the rain, and a friendly white guy - British by the sound of his accent - actually thinks that Gobi is wearing a trash bag and commends him on his ingenuity and innovation. He doesn't realise it actually is a sham designed-for-Singapore-rain free raincoat.
Turns out this guy is a steamer expert from Wales. And naturally Gobi regresses into the British accent. The thing about the British accent - haven't heard it in some time - is that it is still more understandable than the Aussie accent, so I still am able to listen to what he's saying. Lase and his disciple don't, though; they're antisocial.
The guy (I didn't catch his name) is part of a steamer preservation board and enlightens us on the fact that these steamers are actually about a hundred years old at least. Putting that into perspective, they were built before the Titanic. Apparently the same conditions (or at least similar conditions) i.e. low salinity of the Baltic makes it very attractive for these old steamers to sit in - it make them resist corrosion relatively well.
The Welsh-Steamer-Expert is friends with the captain and apparently has permission to go down to the steamer's engine room. So when he offers to take us down there - one by one, mind you - we are hesitant. Gobi is offered up as the sacrificial lamb to go down first. Meanwhile we imagine those scenarios from those horror movies where a crazy old man brings unsuspecting tourists down to a place with really fast moving pistons do so some unfathomable things with them. But fortunately Gobi returns unscathed with his thumbs up so we take turns going down after that.
The floor is slippery due to the grease; its noisy so you really can barely hear yourself thinking. But ultimately its an engineering marvel - the pistons moving up and down, the ship engineer taking instructions from the captain, the deafening ruckus of the multitude of pistons driving the ships rotors. Obviously this engine is slightly different from the ones used back when the steamer was first built - it now uses oil rather than coal. But apart from that the steam-mechanism is identical; it doesn't use the modern diesel engine. And the ship engineer controls the engine after receiving instructions from the captain ala the movie Titanic.
Cool right?!
Scene 36 - 25th July
Today, being Sunday, I attend Mass. However, being in Sweden, there is no English Mass (I'm not actually sure whether they have an 'International Mass' in English like once a month or so. Anyway, I end up going not for the Swedish Mass, but the Spanish Mass; mainly because I am quite impartial, not speaking either language.
Halfway through the Mass, however, I begin to realise that it would have served me better to be partial, because attending the Mass in Swedish makes more sense. If you attend the Spanish Mass, and look my colour, people are going to expect you to speak Spanish. So you probably would have to pretend to be a mute during the Sign of Peace etc because people would wish you peace in Spanish. The alternative is to learn the words for "Shalom" in different languages.
The others went souvenir shopping at some (Asian) shop. I'm not sure whether I have mentioned this before, but there are some cardinal rules for souvenir shopping in Europe. For example, always go to an Asian-run shop. They always have the lowest prices. Of course, their products probably were not MADE in the European country, but hey, the era of globalisation is upon us.
I join them after Mass.
Its time for us to leave our boat and go to Ӧrebro for the next part of the trip. What's there to see in Ӧrebro? Nothing much actually; but that's the place where we are going to have our orienteering. Finally, what is orienteering? Its this "race" where, armed with a compass and a map and their wits, people bash through forests and terrain towards certain checkpoints. Being a race, you have the option of finishing it very fast by just going in a straight line no matter what lies in your way (e.g. river, mountain etc) or you could take the easy way - the long winded dirt path.
It sounds fun, definitely. I doubt it'll be anything like orienteering in the city which we have been doing for the past month or so.
Anyway, today, after arriving in Ӧrebro, all we do is check into the hostel - there are quite a few things going on in Ӧrebro this week; and so the hostels are quite in demand (the guy sharing the dorm with us came here for a comic book convention, of all things). Ordinarily, you wouldn't expect a place like Ӧrebro to be packed with people because it really is quite a small town.
Today is not orienteering per se, its registering for the orienteering. Apparently the event has already started, but we are only participating in one event. So, the registering place, which is just a little bit out of (this very small) town, is bustling with activity.
Once we step into the room, however, it finally hits me that we're in Scandinavia, the land of the Vikings. Henrik Larsson is no Viking. But the Swedes in the orienteering registering room are. We feel like midgets walking around; interstitial occupants of the room of much larger people.
I know this picture doesn't do justice to my last statement; but trust me, the feeling is there. On our registration form, we put our country as Singapore, and then when they print the race-tags for us its damn cool because we are representing our country. This is actually in international event, to be honest, but we are the only representatives from Singapore. Also, we're not official Singapore representatives, so the Singapore Flag is not up there (see next photo). In any case, we're just running for fun.
And so, now, its resting time for the big day.
Scene 37 - 26th July
Today is the big day. We drive to the registration site, but that's not where the race is taking place. For that, we board a bus that takes us to the site.
The bus journey is not long; but it takes us out into the uninhabited countryside. Probably I should mention about the weather here - its cold. And its drizzling. Lase says there's no issue with the drizzle or the cold since we'll all be running anyway and we'll be warm because of that. On the way we pass by serious participants; who are actually warming up for the race through the forest by doing laps around the starting point site.
But we just walk to the camp-site where those not racing will be sitting and watching the belongings of those who are racing. We put our stuff with the team from Bredaryd; the team in which Lase used to be in. And then we walk to the starting point. Mind you, all this time during this walk to the starting point, there are people who are jogging already, warming up.
I think they have the right idea; because we (at least Eugene and I) are still shivering.
We are in separate lanes to start, and just for wayang (show) we run the first 50m from the starting point. But we all stop after that 50m after we turn out of sight to wait for the rest.
So now we discuss our tactics - we'll run as a group and we'll let each person take turns to use the map to lead. Lase goes first. He points at the map, looks at the compass, I see the road that we can take, he sees the forest that we can cut through. And off he goes. Straight bashing through the forest. And we follow.
And that's the story of how my sports shoe got soaked with mud and water in the first minute of orienteering. Clearly this is not the type of shoe designed for orienteering. And this is also the story of how I discovered what Orienteering truly is.
Obviously, you aren't going to see any photos of this journey through the Swedish wilderness because we're too busy panting and searching for the checkpoints. Gobi is not as bad as Lase, he finds a more routine path - or maybe I have already grown accustomed to the bashing through the forest concept. Gobi is trained by the Singapore Army to do this, Eugene and I not so. But running through the forest, especially in this weather is really fun. Live in the moment and not worry about how you are going to clean the shoes and track pants later, because everything is just become muddily brown.
There are others like us, non-competitive runners, but there are more competitive runners. I think Lase is used to the competitive part; so we're holding him back. Especially when Eugene and I are leading. Because we honestly are quite blur. I missed my checkpoint at least once. Its not that easy to find, to be fair.
Finally we reach the last checkpoint, and we make a pact that we shall sprint to the finishing line. Wayang once again. But I think this is more an effort to make the orienteering experience more credible. And we're off. Gobi didn't understand the instructions, so he lags behind Lase, Eugene and I just jog back without too much emphasis on speed. I think our aim was just to come ahead of the little boy that was ahead of us.
Around us people are cheering for the runners; so its fortunate that we ran - it would be quite embarrassing (even if they'll never see us again) if we just walk. Considering we are four able bodied young men.
Finally the finish line is passed, we finish ahead of that little boy, and the results are out. Oh how we've done our country proud.
We decide to take the pictures of the result board early on, because as the day goes on, our ranking will continue to drop as more people complete the race.
The 'race' took the better part of an hour and a half at most, so, including the bus ride to and from the site, that means that this whole 'orienteering experience' which involved us coming all the way to this far ulu corner of Sweden, ultimately has taken up just about half a day.
However, cleaning up ourselves after that involves a good part of the other half of the day.
Its safe to say that my track-pants is now unavailable for the remainder of this Eurotrip - but that's okay since the Eurotrip has almost come to an end and I can now rely on my berms and torn jeans. My socks are also beyond saving, and I think that saving them would be hopeless, so into the bin they go. My shoes, on the other hand, require saving as I need to wear them for the rest of the trip.
Eugene, on the other hand is trying to save everything - so he's in the bathroom scrubbing his shoes and socks. We can't all crowd out the bathroom, so Eugene volunteers to help scrub our shoes too.
*
While the shoes dry, we go out once again. If you recall, the temperature in Scandinavia is a cool 20 degrees. And considering that my shoes are wet, I am forced to wear my slippers when we walk around outside.
There really isn't much to see in Orebro, so all we see is the castle. The Castle has quite a cool waterfall of a moat surrounding it - that's new. But we don't go in. I'm not sure if we even are allowed to. But us city-bumpkins still need to recover from a "race" that would have probably been more like a walk in the park (this phrase is probably used in a more literal sense in this context than usual) for the other two among us who are less Singaporean. So we go back to the hostel room after a quick dinner.
Incidentally, the pitter patter rain which followed us around during the Orienteering Race has all but gone somewhere else to bother someone else. Or perhaps its being fair by raining on everybody's race back at the race-site. So anyway, clear skies for us.
And so the Eurotrip is finally drawing to a close; tomorrow we fly off from Skavsta Airport for London. But, that's tomorrow's story.
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