Showing posts with label stockholm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stockholm. Show all posts

7.02.2011

stockholm

Talk about the antithesis of Lagos (and a great literary segue if I do say so myself).  Everything about Stockholm and our time there was completely fabulous (ok, maybe not the pickled herring).  Stockholm felt crisp and clean and fresh, from the incredible Scandinavian architecture to the gorgeous European fashion; from the frothy beer at ubiquitous sidewalk cafes to the multitude of museums; from the ability to safely wander aimlessly and take pictures to the Swiss efficiency and ingenuity!  God, it was amazing!  Invigorating.  Romantic.  Exhilirating.

Almost exactly 24 hours after leaving for the Abuja airport, we landed in Stockholm at 10:30 am Sunday.  We headed straight for the hotel.  Crazy, I know, but even though we checked in over two hours early, the hotel was able to accommodate us!  (Seriously the things you take for granted before you move to Africa.)  Joey begged desperately for a nap but I convinced him that he'd feel just as refreshed after a shower.  By 1:00 pm we were out on the town.  Destination #1: Hard Rock Cafe.


Okay, I know what you're thinking.  I've thought it too.  Stupid, ridiculous Americans fly half-way across the world to go eat cheeseburgers?  Let me tell you about how I've condemned the McDonald's customers in European capitals.  But after four full months of Nigerian beef (if you've looked at my pictures you've seen the emaciated cattle) and the very intense, gamey "mincemeat" derived from said beef, Joey and I were both jonesing uncontrollably for a big, thick, juicy, corn-fed, American burger.  Go ahead, judge me.

Did you know the Hard Rock Cafe serves brunch on Sundays until 4 o'clock!  What kind of ridiculous BS is that?!  Who eats brunch after 2, seriously?  And who goes to the Hard Rock Cafe for brunch?  What is the matter with these people?  The Hard Rock Cafe exists for cheeseburgers!  At least let people order a cheeseburger from the bar!

Defeated and starving after 24 full hours of airplane meals, we head over to Gamla Stan, the oldest area of Stockholm.  Nothing like darling old buildings to perk up your spirit!  Unfortunately, our spirits weren't the only thing that perked up.  Holy tourist trap the prices at the restaurants were absolutely ridiculous.  We wandered for about an hour until settling on a cafe where I could get something local and sort of healthy and the prices wouldn't bankrupt us for the rest of our trip.  Unfortunately they no longer had the salmon salad written on the outdoor chalkboard that led me to choose the restaurant in the first place (are we back in Abuja where we put things on the menu that don't really exist?), but my caesar substitute was the perfect thing to hold me over until Hard Rock stopped serving brunch.

It seemed like every place we tried to visit closed right before we walked in, probably because it was Sunday, or maybe because it was Europe, so we spent the majority of the day just wandering.  Which turned out to be wonderful.  The weather couldn't have been more beautiful: bright blue, cloudless skies complemented by the perfect sixty-five degree temperature. It felt so great to walk around and not sweat!

While we ambled, we noticed an increase in police presence right in front of the Royal Palace.  I excitedly thought we might see a royal procession.  Turns out a bunch of hippies (including many topless women whose boobs I really could have lived without seeing) were staging a parade or protest (against bras?) or something.  Just another day in Europe I suppose!  As much as I appreciated the visual stimuli, it was so great to see people voice their beliefs (even if I still don't know what that is) safely and without violence.


Anyway, it was finally time to go back to Hard Rock.  The nachos and burger were amazing and we ate like champions.  We debated whether to attempt to explain to the waitress that all Americans don't eat cheeseburgers in Europe; that we've lived in Africa for the last four months but we decided she wouldn't care either way.  Oh well.


Completely satisfied, we decided to check out the Icebar.  The same company who builds the Icehotel in northern Sweden every year maintains a bar in Stockholm too.  As you probably discerned from its name, the Icebar is entirely constructed from ice.   Ice bar, ice chairs, ice walls; it was so cool, literally, we donned fur-lined hooded capes and thick gloves to sip lingonberry-flavored vodka out of ice glasses.   Once our teeth were sufficiently chattering, we hung our capes and headed back outside into the longest dust.  It was nine pm and the sky was just beginning to turn dark.  What a dramatic difference from Abuja, which is so close to the equator it never stays light past 6:30.


Monday morning we woke up bright and early to explore more of the city.  We slowly meandered along the water as we made our way to the Vasa Museum.  The Vasa is a huge, 17th-century warship that sunk before it ever left the harbor; the concentration of salt in the water preserved the boat almost entirely.  So in the 1970's the Swedes raised her from the seafloor and put her in a museum.  It was pretty neat to see the boat and learn the theories why she sunk.  I also learned that ballast = rocks.  Who would have thought they put rocks in the bottom of a boat to make it float?!  (Maybe I should have paid more attention in science class).


We left the Vasa Museum and headed to the 19th-century Ostermalm Saluhall right by our hotel, an old market that's still in use today.  We walked the aisles and drooled over all of the meat and cheese and chocolate and fruit and vegetables and of course, fish!  We decided we'd worked up sufficient hunger to tackle the smorgasbord, so on to the Grand Hotel we went.  While we smorgased, I got to see that royal procession for which I'd been longing the previous afternoon!  All of a sudden probably a hundred guards in blue regalia and shiny gold helmets trotted their horses down the street in front of the hotel.  Joey and I noticed that none of the other restaurant guests nor the pedestrians next to the horses missed a beat when the procession began.  We asked our waitress, who replied that this was merely the horses' daily exercise routine.  Uh, cool!  Although if I lived in any sort of monarchy I would flip out about my taxes paying for such crap, but I have to admit I secretly love the pomp and pageantry.


Bellies full, we left the Grand Hotel for the City Hall, where the Nobel banquet is held each year.   We toured the gilded and chandeliered building before climbing its million-stair tower (where I believe I burned all of the calories from lunch) for a bird's-eye view of the Stockholm archipelago.  The water simply sparkles.


We wandered some more, heading into a different part of town, Sodermalm, to sit in the sunshine and enjoy a beer.  We watched all the bicycles whiz past as people left work for the day.  Finally, exhausted, still quite full and feeling a little woozy from the sugar and booze, we decided to call it an early night so we could fit as much as possible into our last day in Stockholm.

Tuesday morning I was up at 5:30 am.  I showered, packed for Joey and me, then woke him up.  He got ready quickly (I'm very hard to ignore), and we'd had breakfast (OMG the homemade jam they served with these crepe-like Swedish pancakes was to die for) and were out the door by 7:30 am.  We explored more of the city before catching a riverboat to the royal's summer palace, Drottningholm.  The hour-long boat ride was lovely and the palace was even lovelier.  We toured the interiors, an original 18th century theatre and its gardens before returning to Stockholm.


We spent our last few hours in the city exploring the royal's regular palace (how can you survive with only one palace?), tasting chocolate in Gamla Stan, enjoying an early dinner at one outdoor cafe and some wine and dessert at another outdoor cafe.  Then we walked back to our hotel to grab our bags and made our way to the airport to catch our 7:30 flight back to real life.  A whirlwind 60 hours sandwiched between two 24 hour flights may have exhausted our bodies, but it renewed our spirits.   And I really, really needed that.

6.29.2011

how to eat a smogasbord

Like I needed instructions on how to stuff my face.  Anyone who's ever attended a buffet with me before can attest it's a good thing I work out. 

So Joey and I decided that we couldn't have a true Swedish experience unless we went to a smorgasbord.  We did some online research before we left and asked around Stockholm while we arrived; everyone seemed to agree the most authentic Smorgasbord exists at The Veranda restaurant in the Grand Hotel Stockholm.  Lunch on white tablecloths at a five-star hotel?  Fine by me. 

We sat down next to the window and the waitress brought us little pamphlets on how to properly enjoy the smorgasbord.  Like good little eaters, we decided to follow the instructions and try everything.  There are starving kids in Africa after all.

Step 1: Think of the smorgasbord as a four to six course meal. 

Deal.

Step 2: Do not overload your plate.  Make several trips to the buffet and take a new plate each time. 

I suppose I'll be polite and refrain from stuffing my plate.   And you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll make several trips.   You don't have to stuff your plate to stuff your face.

Step 3: Begin with the herring dishes.  These are traditionally served with boiled potatoes, crispbread and cheese.  Herring tastes best with a cool aquavit chased with cold beer.  



So this is where I really wished I hadn't agreed to try everything.  Maybe one bite of herring would have been fine.  But one bite of pickled herring, one bite of honey mustard herring, one bite of cinnamon herring, one bite of curried herring...by the tenth bite of herring I had a nice little buzz because every time I took a bite I took an even bigger sip of my cold beer.  Then came the shot of aquavit.  Bigger buzz.  Whoops.  Good thing there was more food to eat before a buzzing Melissa hit the dessert table.

Step 4: Next, try another Swedish specialty, gravad lax, which is served with a mustard and dill sauce.  Try the smoked salmon, preferably with a few drops of lemon. 

Great.  More fish.  Actually, I like salmon.  I really do.  But after all of the herring, all of the salmon started to taste...fishy.  And then there were the salmon terrines...Joey cheated and didn't even try his.  I tried them.  And drank more beer.

Step 5: Then we suggest a variety of salads, egg dishes and cold cuts of meat and poultry. 


Gladly. 

Step 6: Now it is high time to try the hot dishes.  Don't miss the Swedish meatballs with lingonberries.


Swedish meatballs = delicious.  Lingonberries are great too. At this point we were starting to get full and had to save room for desserts.  So I ate my meatballs and Joey tried a few other items.  I understand that the food found nearby is incorporated into the food but I really wish they hadn't put fish in the cheesy potatoes.


Step 7: To round off the meal, we suggest our famous desserts, especially the fruit salad.  A cup of coffee and an iced Swedish punsch completes the meal. 

1. round indeed. 
2. fruit salad???  Yeah, right.

3. obviously we had to try the punsch.  Delight- ful, if I do slur so myself.  Tasted some- what like a sauternes and I was quite happy with that.  And quite happy after that too.  Oh and then they have to go and serve these delicious strawberry gum drops that seriously melt in your mouth after I'm two beers, one aquavit and one punsch in with the coffee - thank God for the coffee.


Step 8: Hold the railing as you descend the stairs from the hotel to the exit. 

Okay, this step isn't really in the pamphlet.  I hooked my elbow around Joey's arm a little more firmly than normal and we departed the Grand Hotel to waddle wander the streets of Stockholm for the rest of the afternoon. 

6.04.2011

getting to stockholm

We've had some bad travel juju lately.  Actually, the only really bad travel experiences seem to be related to Abuja.  You may recall our midnight roadtrip from Des Moines to DC to get to Abuja on time.  The melee that was trying to catch our flight to Stockholm is case in point #2.

I have an issue with punctuality. And procrastination.  Since one usually leads to the other, if you know me you would assume I made us late to the airport and this is why we almost missed our flight.  Well you're wrong.  You had better believe that I was packed and ready to go on time for this trip.  Hadn't left Nigeria in five months.  Trip to Europe.  Yeah, I was ready.

So we went to the airport, went through metal detector #1 (I seriously need to remember to wear socks the next time I go to the Abuja airport), waited in line at Air Ethiopia for our boarding passes, waited in line at emigration (the Nigerian personal space bubble is significantly smaller than mine.  And seeing as I'd just had to go barefoot in the Abuja airport, it's not air-conditioned and I really like my personal space, when some guy stepped on my shoe because he was all up in my shit in line, I might have told him to back off.  Fervently.), stopped at customs, went through metal detector #2 at the gate, and then had the entire contents of my bag searched by airline personnel while they told me that I need to give my husband a child.

So we're finally in the waiting area to board.  It's hot (seriously why would you air-condition your international airport in Africa?), I'm crabby, my Marie Claire is boring me and I really need some water.  Do you think in a space where you're cordoned off as "secure" before you get on a plane where you can't bring water they would sell water?  Ha.  Joey tells me to chill out - we'll be off to Stockholm soon and we can get water on the plane.

That's when they make the annoucement.  Now mind you, there's probably 250 people in this boarding area and they're all talking.  Loudly.  And this announcement is made by a man without a microphone.  "There has been a problem with the plane.  We have another one coming right now from Ouagadougou that should be here in about 45 minutes.  Unfortunately, the plane is smaller than this one and so only the business class passengers and 88 others will be able to take this flight.  We will ensure everyone makes their connection."

Now what would happen at any other airport is the passengers would orderly line up at the airline desk and be reassigned based on their connecting flight.  This is not what happened.  Mass chaos ensued.  People rushed Mr. Announcement to get their spot on the new flight - other people's connecting flights be damned.  So Mr. Announcement tries organizing people by their final destination - that doesn't work - it has become a giant clusterfuck and my husband has disappeared somewhere to get water.  At this point it's about an hour and a half past our original departure time - we're still okay to catch our flight to Stockholm as long as we get on the plane that's coming.  But that's looking less and less likely.

Finally the plane arrives and they have everyone who will be taking that flight get in line.  I'm pretty sure that all of the original passengers decided they were taking this flight.  And "line" is already a very loosely held term in Nigeria, so when you add to that the urgency of catching your plane it gets ugly.  I'm left in high heels (I really don't know why I had this ridiculous notion of arriving in Europe in my gorgeous shoes) with two gigantic bags that I cannot carry, freaking out that if we don't get on this plane we are not going to Stockholm, trying to scurry into line with everyone else and Joey is still nowhere in sight.

The line disbursed and reformed several times in the next 45 minutes since Mr. Announcement seemed be to the only person who actually knew what was going on, but eventually, Joey pulled me just beyond the "secure area" to drink some water and people started getting on the plane.  (If you are confused, don't worry.  I was there and I still don't know wtf happened).  Joey told me that he'd managed to get us on the flight manifest but we still had to elbow our way onto the plane.  And even once we were on the plane, seating was a free-for-all and we somehow got wedged in the middle of the last row on the plane - row 40 - right next to the bathrooms.   It still was another hour til we took off and we barely made our connection in Addis Ababa (we originally had a 4 hour layover), but we made it.  Almost exactly 24 hours after leaving Abuja, we arrived in beautiful, clean, crisp, wonderful Stockholm and it was worth every minute.

4.29.2011

seriously. best. husband. ever.

So cabin fever has really set it.  Today is officially our 120th day here, and we both desperately need a vacation.  Just a little break to sit back, not worry about work, eat well and see something new.  Back in February we planned a trip to visit this darling little place near the Nigeria/Cameroon border over Easter.  Well for one reason or another that trip got pushed back to this weekend.  And then yesterday for one reason or another it got pushed back again.  Needless to say, I wasn't really so happy about it.  And may or may not have vocalized my need to get out of Abuja for a few days to my husband. 

So instead of doing what I imagine a sane person would do - telling me to suck it up and hopefully things will work out next weekend - he booked us a trip to Stockholm.

Sweden.

Next weekend.

Oh. My. God.  Europe!  The food!  The culture!  Next weekend!

And then Mallory gets here and then R&R is almost here and life is starting to look pretty good again.


Seriously, I am married to the most amazing man on the planet.  Who needs Prince William and tiaras and carriages when you have Joey Cordaro?