By the time I reached the ICA this morning, I was a hot, sticky mess. I really dislike the humidity at this time of year. It’s worse when it’s raining and, while the weather was okay first thing, it decided to start again at around 1pm. I know the time because the chap down the road who always speaks to me in English with a very posh “Good morning!” said it would rain at 2pm so, when the rain started, I checked the time.
This was, fortunately, after Mirinda had spent some time laying on the grass, counting the wildflowers. Adding to yesterday’s effort, she is now up to 42 species. This is making her increasingly happy. Sadly, her back is not. By the end of the day, she was considering visiting the doctor for some stronger painkillers.
Something else Mirinda inexplicably did today was put out the folding chairs. There was the pair out the back, facing the woods, just like last year, then there was this pair.
I wondered why anyone would want to sit and watch the road. Mirinda said she might put a water bowl beside them for dogs to quench their thirst as they walk by, giving their owners somewhere to sit while waiting.
She claims the real reason is in order to see the sunset without the trees being in the way. We shall see. Literally. Anyway, there was no sunset today as the sky was full of clouds.
Earlier, as I ssweated my way to ICA, I met The Running Man. And I am 99% sure he was my Nemesis. I feel can’t call him my Nemesis any more, given how I’ve inspired him to dump his noisy, smelly moped and walk/run instead.
He thanked me because he has started feeling a lot better, both physically and mentally. I insisted he had nothing to thank me for, given he’s doing all the work. He has been doing it now for five weeks and doesn’t see himself ever stopping. I do find myself wondering what will happen in winter.
The other thing I noticed on the way to the shops was the road. The resurfacing has been completed and white lines have been painted. It all looks brand new…because it is. All evidence of the big, ghastly trench and the long term divided road, have vanished. Okay, there’s still a bit of footpath to complete but that’s it. I assume it’s a pleasure to drive on.
As you can see, the weather first thing was lovely.
Also lovely was dinner. I tried a new tuna recipe from Géraldine Leverd’s cookbook. It was enthusiastically upvoted by Mirinda and will now be included on the Chez Gaz menu.
I spent a lot of time today, in the kitchen. I made Messina lamb and made something up for dessert. The lamb needed to marinate, and the dessert needed to set, something it didn’t actually do. Well, not much anyway. Still, the lamb was good. Nicoline came over and the three of us had a most enjoyable night eating and chatting.
The weather was a bit changeable until late on when I was able to have Reading Hour on the deck under a beautiful blue sky and to the accompaniment of a woodpecker in the dead tree.
While inserting the image above, I discovered that the latest update to the Word Press app includes an option to create an AI image rather than go to all the bother of using my phone like I did for the photo above.
Well, I thought, that’s worth a try.
So, I tried to create the image with AI. I requested ‘A photo looking up into the tops of pine trees with a background of very blue sky.’ and here is the result.
I think my image is better.
In the meanwhilst, Mirinda used her new bionic eyes to count the different species of wildflowers in our grass. She came up with 34 or so. She also spent a goodly amount of time watching a squirrel jump from branch to branch in the woods. She is loving the new world she has never really seen clearly before.
What came out of Donald’s mouth today
When questioned about the terrible floods in Texas, he answer the question “Are you investigating whether some of the cuts to the federal government left key vacancies at the National Weather Service?” He said “That water situation that all is and that was really the Biden setup. That was not our setup.“
Is he confusing Joe Biden with god now?
Actually, to be honest, Trump went on to say that he didn’t blame Biden, and that it was awful.
The only other thing I did today was to record the latest Letter from Sweden. As opposed to last month, I managed it in one take. Yay, me!
Oh, what joy to wake up to the sound of birdsong rather than compactus trucks crunching up detritus from a building site while electric grinders whizz and whirl barely metres from the bedroom window. And so much better than listening to big groups of diners leaving the restaurant on the opposite corner at 2am, wishing each other well as they go their separate ways.
That’s not the only stress that has vanished. This whole two-week period has been very stressful for Mirinda which the stay in Stockholm has only partly alleviated. As a result, the stress has changed to a bad back. Originally, Mirinda was heading to London today, but the back has said, “No!” The whole trip was rearranged over the day.
I, of course, went shopping, given I was going to be cooking for both of us rather than just me. While I was away, Nicoline dropped in and dropped off a back massager which, Mirinda said was amazing. She started feeling better very quickly.
On my walk, I noticed two things that made me smile. First there was a small note on a chained bike.
This bike, with no front wheel and a chain going around the bike rack, has been abandoned. It has sat in the same place for over a year. I pointed it out to Jason when he arrived last year.
My theory is that the owner locked their bike up and went to catch the bus to work, as usual but never returned. Maybe they were kidnapped or sold in a slave market. Maybe they suffered a blow to the head and developed amnesia. Maybe they died. Interestingly, it has not been stolen.
Given it’s been there so long, I can’t see anyone coming forward now.
The other smile inducing occurrence was a big bed of purple by a road where I rarely walk. Because I needed to visit the System and ICA, I walked via a triangle and came across this glorious bed.
I could have done without the rain but, the walk was actually quite good. For one thing, I managed to avoid the very uphill section from the river to the outdoor gym on the way home.
PS: I made ramen for dinner and Mirinda actually enjoyed it.
This morning, standing at platform 13a at Stockholm Central Station, was a train that I first noticed back in 2021. Now, it may seem odd that I’d recognise a particular train given I am not generally that interested in specific railway ephemera. Okay, like most men, I do like a good train but, even so, the names (and numbers) I tend to ignore. But not this particular train. No, because this train was Trainy McTrainface.
It was on its way to Göteborg.
I did wonder why it’s now green when, back when I first saw the train, it was red. Does this mean there is more than one Trainy McTrainface? But, no. The reason for the change of colour is because the original train was operated by Hong Kong based MTR Corporation which uses a red livery. MTR was acquired by the Finnish company VR Group. This happened in 2024. VR trains are green. So Trainy McTrainface had a make-over.
Obviously, I sent images to the Weasel WhatsApp group, explaining the significance. I received laughing emojis in return. As is only right.
Sadly, it wasn’t our train. I don’t think ours had a name. It was just your normal, run-of-the-mill, Mälartåg train taking us home.
Yesterday, there was a massive electrical fault which led to the cancellation of all the trains going to Vagnhärad so we were a bit concerned about our return today. However, the people responsible for fixing these things had managed to fix whatever was wrong and trains were running on time. Actually, more than on time.
We arrived at Flemingsberg five minutes early. I thought we’d sit at the platform for four minutes in order to leave on schedule, but the driver had other ideas. Four minutes before it was due to arrive, it pulled out of the station and sped across the countryside. We figured it was, in a small, modest way, making up for yesterday. Pity the poor passengers who had no buffer, though.
Kevin, one half of our Australian house sitters, met us at the station with two very excited puppies and drove us home. After such a long journey, it was nice to be chauffeured for the last little bit.
A short while later, Kevin, and wife Elena, drove off in their mobile home, heading for Oslo. They took great care of both dogs and house. I think they’ll both miss the girls and, perhaps, the quiet of Trosa. I don’t think they’ll miss the problems they had buying train tickets.
In the afternoon, Nicoline came over to drop the boat keys off for Mirinda to use tomorrow morning. We had a jolly chat about various things as well as some, somewhat dubious, long life pepparkaka.
Mirinda spent a lot of time looking at things in delighted surprise as the true colours of our world became clear through her new eyes.
I really like the flat we’re staying in but there is a building site across the road and every morning a big compactus truck sits outside and fills with rubbish. This means the engine just thrums for ages. It’s summer and the windows need to be open but the compactus makes so much noise I have to close the windows and suffer. I’m really missing the silence of Trosa. It’s a good thing then that today was our last day.
The reason we were in Stockholm was for Mirinda to have her new eyes fitted and today was the final check-in with the doctor who performed the operations. And he was very pleased with the progress and happily answered Mirinda’s questions regarding the future.
As well as visiting Kungsholmen for the eye clinic, Mirinda also popped into an eco hairdresser in order to get her hair done. While waiting for her to finish, I wandered around for a bit and came across this intriguing sculpture in Polishusparken.
Excursion in the Park (2024) by Anna Högberg (1970-) and Johan Tirén (1973-)
The park has been recently renovated and looks amazing. The sculpture is roughly in the middle and stands between the old police station and city hall. You can climb the stairs if you like in order to get a different view of the park.
As I sat and admired the structure, a couple of guys did just that. One of them sat and watched as his friend climbed to the top. He thought it was very funny while his mate thought they would get into trouble.
If you ignore the repeated opening paragraph, this link explains the sculpture quite nicely, I think.
After her hair and eye appointments, we went for a bit of a wander which cemented the fact in our minds that we are not that fond of Kungsholmen. Okay, the weather was a bit ragey with the wind blowing everything, everywhere, leaving bits of tree all over the path by the water but, even so, it was all a bit down at heel.
Mind you, the view along the path wasn’t bad and there were a lot of boats, which made Mirinda happy.
Shortly after the above photo was taken, we were forced to abandon the path in fear of falling branches and caught a bus to an area where we had our final International Cuisine.
La Patagonia was our 13th nosh up. And what an excellent meal we had. The staff included the Finnish wife of the Chilean owner. She had the the most amazingly hypnotic eyes and a delicious skill at storytelling.
She told us the rather gruesome tale of how a seagull once flew down to take a scrap of food left on a plate outside the restaurant when another seagull flew down and attacked the first one, killing it. The killer seagull then started eating the first seagull in a fit of cannibalistic fury. This attracted a whole gang of seagulls in a free for all feast of bird butchery.
It was suggested that she should shush the birds away and retrieve the plate. She was a bit fearful about even opening the door of the restaurant, let alone doing anything about it.
There were no such evil incidents today, however, and dinner was served with an absence of birds. Well, apart from the chicken that people had ordered especially.
The place seems very cool and trendy and, therefore, popular. I recommend it for the food, atmosphere and service. If I ever find myself in the area again, I would certainly not hesitate in dining at La Patagonia.
And so, our final tally of International Cuisine is Spanish, Peruvian, French, Italian, Thai, Greek, Lebanese, Japanese, Austrian, British, Swedish, Portuguese and Patagonian. To be fair, Patagonia is, basically, Chile and Argentina so that could easily be two countries but, I rather like keeping the total at 13 so let us leave it at that.
It’s been a fun food festival game.
And, while not really wanting to bring a downer to the party but feeling the need to report the fact that Michael Madsen died today, aged 67. Apparently he was a gentle soul, rather unlike the characters he tended to play in movies. The ear scene in Reservoir Dogs still haunts many people, but he wasn’t at all like Mr Blonde.
I was on the Tunnelbana this afternoon, surrounded by the doom-scrolling, when I noticed this older man reading a book. An actual, physical book. He was engrossed, unlike the people around him who were busy moving onto the next thing on their screens. It was a moment of brightness and joy. I noted the fact on my phone as I sat there, realising that anyone else observing the carriage in the same way, would include me among the hoi polloi. I was very quick making my note and put my phone away.
I was on the Tunnelbana heading for Gamla Stan and an unexpected visit to the long waited for (by me anyway) Post Office Museum.
And what a fun, little museum it is. Situated in the original Stockholm Post Office, it covers the history of Swedish postal services from the conception in 1632 when King Gustav II Adolf was shot and killed (on my birthday) in the Battle of Lützen, right up until today when kids have no idea what a letter actually is.
It all began when Axel Oxenstierna, the Swedish chancellor in 1632 and the man who took over fighting the war following the death of King Gustav, bemoaned the fact that it took a month for news to reach Stockholm.
“We need a postal service!” He demanded of Queen Christina.
“And what is one of those?” Responded the nine-year-old monarch a month later.
Axel, somehow, got his way and, eventually, in 1636, the Swedish postal service was born. Andreas Wechel was made the first Postmaster and farmers up and down the country became postmen. Which is a bit full circle when you think about it. Especially if you consider that farmers supply food and, these days, at least from 2001, the mail is handled by supermarkets in Sweden.
Talking about 2001, this was when all post offices were closed, putting around 10,000 postal workers out of a job. And, given they had no competition, it wasn’t like they could get jobs anywhere else. Not doing the same thing at least.
Back in 1692, however, the postal service was expanding and yachts were made to cover the vast distances over water. Boats such as the Hiorten sailed between Ystad to Pomerania for many years. The boat was capable of carrying not just the crew and up to 15 foot passengers but also horses and a carriage for the distribution of the mail.
All in all, I really enjoyed the Post Office Museum and I preferred it to the new exhibition at Sven Harrys.
This morning saw my third visit to Sven Harrys and the first that hasn’t exactly moved me. There are currently two exhibitions and both left me pretty much cold. I love modern art as anyone who reads this blog will attest to but, sometimes, like today, I am left clueless.
My other visits were in 2021 and 2022 and both exhibitions moved me in ways that art should. And, please, I understand that art appreciation is personal; what one person sees as art another could easily see as nonsense. My mother, for instance, believed that art was all about pretty pictures rather than an artist’s personal view of the world.
In saying that, the artist on display in the exhibition titled The Unseen, Dick Bengtsson (1936-1989), was an intriguing fellow to say the least. He was shy and retiring and rarely gave explanations for his art. He added symbols to his works like swastikas for instance, but experts can only guess at what point he was making.
I don’t know. Maybe I am a Philistine after all, but some things fly straight over my head. Bengtsson’s works merely left me confused.
Venus and Cupid with Shoe (1970) by Dick Bengtsson (1936-1989)
Take the picture above, for example. Why the shoe? Is it because both figures in the painting are shoeless? Is it about giving old myths the boot? Was the artist distracted halfway through and just decided to paint his footwear? Or, should the question be, why NOT the shoe? Someone might know but that someone is not me.
It maybe explained in the catalogue but, possibly fortunately, there wasn’t an English version for sale. I will live, happily, in ignorance on that one.
The other exhibition, Where We Are, featured a number of modern Swedish artists alive and working currently. Some of the works were mysterious but, generally, I appreciated most pieces on display.
I particularly enjoyed the church organ pipes, laid out on the floor, like missiles with one emblazoned with the Latin phrase ‘God is dead’ on it.
However, I think my favourite piece was Mitternacht by Jens Fänge.
Mitternach (2024) by Jens Fänge (1965-)
I find it intriguing, arresting and mysterious. In the room where it was hung, other pieces begged for my attention but I kept returning to this one.
It’s a shame that I didn’t get a lot more out of the exhibitions but, I guess, you can’t please all of the people, all of the time and, of course, the Post Office Museum made up for any displeasure I had at Sven Harrys.
But, moving along to the International Cuisine front, we made it 12 countries tonight following a visit to the wonderful Portuguese restaurant, Botica where we were served by a brilliant but mildly insane South Australian, who really knows her wine.
Updating the list, it is now: Spanish, Peruvian, French, Italian, Thai, Greek, Lebanese, Japanese, Austrian, British, Swedish and Portuguese. One more meal to go. I wonder where in the world we will dine?
Waxholm III is an amazing old boat. She was built in 1903 and has had a rather chequered life. Her name has changed, as well as her ‘job’. At first, called S/S Skärgården, she operated out of Norrköping but, by 1908 she was sold to operate as a ferry service from Stockholm to Waxholm, out in the archipelago. She was renamed Waxholm III.
Things trundled along until 1961 when her engine was declared shot, and she was laid up. Three years later, some private company in Waxholm decided she’d make a good café so they bought and permanently moored her. Eventually, she had so deteriorated, rusty and held together by only barnacles, she was declared no longer a ship.
Finally, in 1991, Stromma bought her and, over three years, returned her not just to her former glory but also back to being a boat again. She has been roaming the Stockholm archipelago ever since. And today, we spent around 11 hours on her.
We have been on lots of Stromma tours around Stockholm and have never been disappointed. Actually, I should rephrase that. The new AI guide is a bit of a disappointment but, generally, if you ignore that, we’ve never been disappointed with a Stromma tour. And today, given we had two, not one, LIVE guides meant the day was perfect.
But, going back a bit, shortly before midsummer, when our holiday destination was shifted to Stockholm, I tried to book onto the Stromma Midsummer cruise, but it was oversubscribed, and we were put on a waiting list that, as far as I’m aware, we’re still waiting on. I then discovered the all day archipelago tour, including stops, meals and a happy hour. I booked straight away and today we set off.
It really was a brilliant day, packed with more things than I could possibly remember to include so I’ll just write about a few.
There was Strindberg’s house on the island of Kymmendö.
A number of years ago, we visited Dalarö and discovered that August Strindberg rather liked the place and would catch the ferry across to the island which he also fell in love with. So much so that he settled there, partying with friends and his numerous wives.
He then, while exiled from Sweden, lovingly, wrote possibly his most famous book, The People of Hemsö; Hemsö being the thinly disguised island of Kymmendö. While most of the world loved the book, the people of the island hated it. They banned Strindberg and his descendants from ever returning to the island.
Then, shortly before her death aged 105, Anne-Marie Hagelin (nee Strindberg) August’s daughter, was given permission as his last surviving child, to visit. The guide told us this and I have no reason to doubt him though I haven’t been able to find any evidence for it. Or if she did, in fact, make the trip.
(Note: they sell the book in the small shop now.)
I enjoyed all the Strindberg stuff, but I think my over-riding memory of the island of Kymmendö will be this drainage system.
Back on the boat we had a lovely lunch and chatted with a Canadian couple who come from Winnipeg in Manitoba. (Now, where have I heard that name before?) They were Kirstin and Myles and were great fun. We spent a lot of time aboard Waxholm III chatting to them about various things.
They are in Sweden for only a few days before heading to Denmark and Norway as a sort of Scandi Break. Mirinda gave them our details so, who knows, when they return to Sweden, we may get a call. They know we have a stuga…and we know someone who knows Winnipeg rather well. Just saying…
Another stop we made was at Bullerö, a nature reserve comprising around 900 islands.
And what a beautiful place, the main island is. The artist Bruno Liljefors lived, painted and hunted there. He loved painting the many birds that visited the island. In fact, he bought the island in 1908 because of the birds that came.
He was also quite keen on hares.
By Bruno Liljefors – Scan from Bruno Liljefors – The Peerless Eye, ISBN 0-948493-04-6, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7268442
The painting above is in the Thielska Gallery where we went the other day. Mirinda was very taken with its beauty.
My favourite thing about Bullerö, however is the fact that a newspaper king and very successful businessman by the name of Torsten Kreuger bought the islands from Liljefors, in 1923. He bequeathed them to his three sons who were subsequently offered an enormous sum of money by an oil company, possibly Shell. The boys refused the mountain of money and sold instead, at a much lower price, to the Swedish Government on the proviso that they keep it as a nature reserve. Which they have.
I love that story.
Another highlight of the day was our trip through the narrowest of passages in the archipelago. It is called Baggensstäket.
Back in 1719, during the Great Pillage, there was a minor battle here. It was a result of the Russians having avoided detection by the Waxholm Fortress. But they were spotted by someone a little more vigilant, and a Swedish regiment headed out to stop them. A rather odd and disorganised battle ensued, resulting in the Russians running away. The Swedish leader, Rutger Fuchs, was hailed as a great hero following the routing. They named him the saviour of Stockholm, no less.
Of course, it didn’t stop the nasty Russians who managed to burn a lot of towns along the east coast of Sweden including Dalarö and, of course, Trosa.
The passage is very narrow indeed. We passed through it today. It looked like you could walk from one island to the other though, given the draught of the Waxholm III, I’m thinking swimming would be more advisable.
Continuing on our way, we headed for Sandhamn where we stopped in order to stretch our legs again and hear about Viveca Sten, who the guide mistakenly called Jennifer.
We then had a delicious dinner starting with herring and ending with salmon. Which, of course, brings our tally to 11 in our International Cuisine Game: Spanish, Peruvian, French, Italian, Thai, Greek, Lebanese, Japanese, Austrian, British and Swedish. I don’t think it’s cheating to include Swedish.
There was also a very pleasant Happy Hour (called Happy Ship) which, it has to be admitted, Gary indulged in.
For a day of, basically, doing very little, by the time we reached the flat, we were both completely zonked. Still, it was one of the most delightful zonked episodes I can remember having. I would have no hesitation recommending the Thousand Islands Archipelago Cruise with Stromma.
It was the perfect day to go to Skansen so that was exactly what we did. Sun and blue sky, not much wind to speak of, and the likelihood of rain at pretty close to zero. And we were not alone in our thinking. A few other people went to Skansen with us.
This was our third visit to Skansen but the first when everything was open. Lots of the buildings welcomed visitors to come inside and look around. People dressed in period costume stood about, ready to answer questions.
While the buildings were great, the Baltic Sea Science Center (sic) was really what we’d come to see this time.
It is an amazing building filled with not just fish (there were even brown trout) but also information about how the Baltic is suffering and what is being done to help it survive. Possibly my favourite exhibit was the one regarding the improvements being made to the Henriksdal Wastewater Treatment Plant. Coincidentally, one of the books I’m currently reading has a chapter on the improvements being made to the sewer system in London, so it’s a somewhat fresh topic in my head.
The Henriksdal improvements are very different to what’s happening in London. However, both projects are massive and extraordinary. The short video at the Baltic centre is amazing and well worth a watch. Even if you have to wait for the Swedish version to finish before the English language one starts five minutes later.
But, of course, it wasn’t just waste treatment we’d come to see. Obviously, I discovered some interesting facts. For a start, who knew that fish could cough? Apart from Jonas, I mean. Apparently they ‘…move their gill covers back and forth to get rid of particles in their gills…’ and this resembles a cough. Apparently.
Out of the water and back on the land, however, there were the two little buildings from Tanto to visit; the ones I wrote about the other day.
Brilliantly, they’ve not just included the little buildings, but they’ve also made the plantings match the period. The 1920’s allotment is a bit different to the 1940’s one, both in terms of plants and style.
Personally, I really enjoyed the recently renovated school house. The fact that the teacher and his family lived in one side and the actual schoolroom was in the other, was beautifully explained by the two women standing in them. Interestingly, the teacher was well off but only because he worked three jobs (teacher, insurance guy and beekeeper).
Mirinda was constantly amazed by the wallpaper and how colourful it was. According to the woman in the house, it was an exact reproduction of the original paper. Of course, I realised it was because of Mirinda’s new eyes. All colours are now bright.
Speaking of renovation, the schoolroom has had a new floor laid. This made me think of HMS Victory and how almost every bit of it has been replaced over the years, making me wonder when it becomes a new ship. Or schoolroom, in this case.
At the entrance, we discovered that, you only had to visit Skansen twice in a year to make the yearly pass worth getting. This was a total bargain. There’s no way we’d see everything, and will definitely return. For one thing, I still haven’t visited the snus and match museum.
So, we’ll definitely be back.
While that was about it for us today, there was, of course, the very important choice of international cuisine. And, unlike yesterday, we managed to get a British meal at the Churchill Arms.
Which, of course, brings our tally to ten: Spanish, Peruvian, French, Italian, Thai, Greek, Lebanese, Japanese, Austrian and British.
Back in the 17th century, it was very peaceful in the Nacka area in Stockholm. There were a few summer stugas, but the only roads were tracks through the woods and meadows and the only traffic were horses and carts. Except on the water. There were row boats and sailing ships there but that was it. There was a lot of wildlife including those modern strangers, songbirds.
In around 1740, the wealthy merchant Claes Grill* and his cousin and wife, Anna Johanna, hired the Stockholm born architect, Carl Hårleman to build them a summer stuga in the Nacka area, a place called Svindersvik.
In 2025, there are roads, cars, high rise flats, noise, all the trappings of the civilised. And there is very little birdsong. There are a few ducks down by the water and the usual crows picking at the almost finished plates of café visitors, but that’s it.
If you are deaf, a visit to Svindersvik viewed from the right direction, would be like a glimpse into the past. I’m not deaf, so I found the traffic noise all pervasive and very annoying. I think the silence of Trosa has spoiled me.
Anyway, the reason I’m talking about Svindersvik is because we visited it today. It’s a part of the Nordiska Museet collection of properties.
The house was built for the summer months when Claes and Anna Johanna decided it was too hot, and the tourists were too predominant, on Gamla Stan, where they lived for the other three seasons. They would pack up their summer gear and the servants and head off, out of the city.
They were quite keen on the Rococo period if the house is anything to go by. Or maybe Carl the Architect was. It’s a bit swirly for me, but at least it’s not Baroque.
That makes the house sound a bit la-di-da but it’s far from it. Like most summer stugas, Svindersvik was quite plain. Well, if you ignore the hand painted wallpaper in each room.
Actually, the stuga is quite modest. There’s only four rooms and a vestibule, and no upper floor. Okay, there is a staircase that leads up to a room that contains a very old billiard table, but, that’s it.
Along with the wallpaper, most impressive was the dining room with eight doors and the extendable bed oin the bedroom. Especially the bed because it looked quite tiny. I know the average height of people was shorter in the 18th century but the bed would dangle a 12 year olds legs, let alone a fully-grown successful merchant and his cousin/wife.
The woman on the right was our guide
The summer stuga is not the only building on the property. There is also the kitchen and the pavilion. The kitchen, for obvious reasons was far enough away to allow only kitchen staff to burn if a fire broke out. It comprises a couple of rooms and the world’s biggest skafferi. I was dead jealous.
But the biggest surprise came when we entered the Pavilion. Seriously, an audible gasp was heard from everyone as the door opened and we stepped through.
Originally, it was built when the Grills lived there but no-one knows what it was used for or why. Then, in the 1780’s, when Baroness Catharina Charlotta De Geer moved in, she turned it into a magnificent ballroom with guest bedrooms off to the sides. She only used the stuga for seven years because she died.
A very impressive feature of the pavilion is the tiled fire place which, the guidebook claims, is one of the tallest in Sweden. And, yes, it’s easily the biggest I’ve ever seen.
It’s in the middle background, behind the guy with black hair and pale blue shirt
Of course, the entire tour was in Swedish, but we were given very helpful Guide Notes in English which made things an awful lot easier for us.
All in all, we had a lovely time at Svindersvik. If you ignore the noise and smell of the traffic and the unexpected appearance of Miss Cranky Pants for a bit. And can I just say that, while we had to wait a long time for them, the ham and cheese rolls made fresh at the Svindersvik café are delicious. If anyone reading this is lured to visit, try one, you will not be disappointed.
And, talking about food, tonight we were back on the International Cuisine Quest. At first we thought we’d found a British pub with real British food (sausages and mash, for instance which is a personal favourite) and, to be fair, we did find it only the kitchen closed shortly before we arrived. We had a couple of drinks then decided to try the really, really popular restaurant across the road from the flat.
Every night, there is a queue at Dersch. I tried to book for dinner but every slot had ‘Waiting list’ written on it unless you wanted to eat at 9-9:30pm. Having missed out at the British pub, we decided to give it a shot at Dersch. And were shown a table straight away and had the most delicious schnitzel served with really nice mashed potato.
So that takes our international tally to nine: Spanish, Peruvian, French, Italian, Thai, Greek, Lebanese, Japanese and Austrian. Who knows what tomorrow may bring?
* Incidentally, Claes died on my birthday, back in 1767. And he only had one eye, which is why he only ever allowed his portrait to be painted from the left side only.
Mirinda does not like riding in the back seat of a car. She says it makes her car sick. She has always said this, at least as long as I’ve known her. It makes her queasy, she says. If you add to this a rather rich and full Italian lunch, and you could be in for a projectile catastrophe.
In fact, we had a lovely lunch at Capricci, over at the Honstull market. Their tiramisu was particularly delicious. Highly recommended. It would have been a shame to see it again due to sitting behind KSP.
Tonight Mirinda was picked up by KSP and Anna Boom-Boom and, for expediency, was ushered into the back of the car. I wished them well as they drove off, with fingers crossed.
They were heading for a fairy filled wander in some woods, along with Nicoline. At the time of writing, I have no idea whether anyone was sprayed with vomit. I wasn’t invited.
To be honest, I was more than happy for the exclusion. After last night’s ATM wandering, and around four and half hours sleep, all I wanted to do was crash at the flat. Which I did after wishing them a fun and magical night.
My day had started with me heading out to the ICA to change a 500kr note in order to pay the laundry man. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. As it turned out, neither was my late night meander around Stockholm: The laundry man accepts Swish.
He was awfully nice, cheerful and pleasant but, seriously, why can’t he say on his website that he accepts cash and Swish? The site is fancy enough. And he has all the prices. Grrr.
So, yes, I headed up to the laundromat and spent two hours waiting for the clothes to be done. As I waited, lots of foreigners entered and told the same sad story: It’s well-nigh on impossible to get cash in Stockholm. Not just me, then.
Eventually, back at the flat, we headed out to Hornstull and wandered up and down the stalls of street food and tat. Weather-wise, the day was quite dull, so there wasn’t as many people about as would be were the sun out in full heat. Though I have to wonder how hot this woman was inside her inflatable cow.
At the far end of the market, the stalls dwindled as we found Tantoberget, a magical place filled with flowers, produce and cute little buildings. It is a land of allotments, cared for by loving gardeners. Very much a place of natural great beauty and somewhere Mirinda absolutely loved. She even stood and chatted in the garden of one chap, who explained how it all worked.
He had been on the waiting list for his plot for 15 years and is now a member of The Södra Tantolunden Allotment Garden Association. The association was started in 1917, although gardening had already taken place in the area in 1915, initially to grow potatoes. It is still a rule that, while you can grow as many flowers, shrubs and trees as you can fit on your plot, you have to include produce as well.
I have to admit that exhaustion did get the better of me after the first 300 plots so I sat on a convenient bench and read while Mirinda continued her extensive tour. She said the colours were particularly vivid through her new eyes.
Two of the small houses are preserved at Skansen. A red cottage from 1921 and a yellow one from the 1940’s. It’s a very serious business, gardening at Tanto.
And, that was about it for my day. Having left Mirinda in the capabale hands of KSP and Anna Boom-Boom, I headed back to the flat, rewatched an espiode of Seinfeld then fell asleep. I also listened to an episode of The Archers, but I’m going to have to listen that again, as I fell asleep in the middle of it.
NB: We are not including today in our International Cuisine Challenge because we didn’t really have dinner. Italian for lunch does not count according to Mirinda’s rules of the game.
