Stockholm, day one.

After a few weeks back in the States (a graduation, a wedding) I fly back to Europe.

A year ago I had met a couple in Buenos Aires who had told me about a culinary kayaking tour they had done in a Swedish archipelago. It sounded amazing and I emailed Do the North that night to reserve my spot. Finally, the time was nigh and I flew to Stockholm a few days before to visit the capital and acclimate myself to the time.

In my mind I associate Stockholm most with a set of performances the Miles Davis Quintet gave at the Konserthuset. It was one of their final concerts; John Coltrane would soon leave and the personnel would shift. The concerts were recorded but unavailable in the States for years. I remember springing for an expensive Japanese bootleg and spent many a night pouring over the recordings.

Arriving in Stockholm I collect my bags and then take a train to the center of town. I’ve chosen a hotel that looks to be right next to the station, but realize after arrive that it’s a slightly longer walk than I had anticipated. The fact that it climbs a gentle slope doesn’t help.

I feel a little worn down; the weeks in the States involved a lot of back and forth with late nights and early mornings. I’ll eventually come down with flu-like symptoms that will lay me out for a few days and I’ll struggle to improve in time for my kayaking trip.

But today I walk from the station to the hotel. My room isn’t ready and I’m lead to a set of lockers where I can store my bags until it’s time to check in.

I retrace my steps back to the station and then past towards the small island that houses the Gamla Stan (Old Town). It’s a Friday afternoon, a few days after my birthday, and I celebrate my good fortune at being able to live a life that continues to be able to experience so much. It also seems surprisingly quiet, but perhaps that’s just the makeup of the city. Having lived so long in New York, I’m still adjusting to the fact that not every city is as dense with inhabitants, as bustling with activity on every street corner.

I pass the site of the Royal Palace, the Nobel Prize Museum, other prominent buildings, but don’t feel like touring anything in particular. I note their locations and walk on until I reach the Storkyrkan, the the oldest church in Stockholm. Used as a coronation church for centuries, the Great Church was concecrated by Saint Nicholas in 1306. Inside are many important works of art, among them a medieval sculpture of Saint George and the Dragon.

Back outside, I continue walking through the Gamla Stan, with no particular place in mind. On one of the main touristy streets of shops and cafes I realize that it reminds me of so many other old towns throughout Europe; if I hadn’t actually been to them I might be challenged to identify one from another in photos.

On the other side of the Gamla Stan I reach the Slussen, a harborside hub of boutiques and cafes with metro, ferry, and bus connections. It’s partially under renovation, the bright green cranes and makeshift barriers marring an otherwise clean harbor and plaza.

There’s a festival of sorts going on on the upper platform and a stage has been set up for music. A woman is giving a speech. I don’t feel like taking the time to wait to see what will transpire and continue walking up through the Pelarbacken neighborhood. There’s an ice cream parlor I’d marked on the calendar but it has yet to open by the time I arrive. The streets are lined with boutiques and bakeries and cafes and in place of the ice cream I pick up some kanelbulle to tie me over.

I retrace my steps to the Slussen. Somehow, in the brief time I’ve been walking the upper neighborhoods, even larger crowds have collected. A street performer has managed to secure an audience that partially blocks the way. I skirt the edge of the crowd and stop to watch for a minute before moving on. I can check into the hotel and I’m looking forward to a shower and a nap before dinner. 🇸🇪