Wandering Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s old town

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(the article below accompanies this video)

What do you do on your first full day of a long backpacking trip? You might try to relax, sleep off the jet lag, get your bearings, and see a couple tourist sights.

But Masayo and I approached it a different way: just walk around at random and get ourselves lost in Stockholm, Sweden – without a map!

After arriving from Osaka late last night we slept and were up and itching to move our feet by 6:30 am. My blood sugar, miraculously, after the time zones, airline meals, and goofy sleep schedules of yesterday, was 131. Our room on the actual floating boat — yes! — called Ånedin Hostel had no wifi, so we left Room 221, belowdecks, and walked through the long, narrow, artificially-lit hallways of the ship up to a large stateroom on the fifth deck that had free wifi.

When traveling, your mind is open and your powers of appreciation expand; this was very true up on the fifth deck of the boat. The stateroom was a big, dark, plush collection of old, sturdy wooden furniture, worn red carpet, dim lighting fixtures, and cubbyhole views of Stockholm’s misty morning harbor. It was like being back in time, aboard The Endurance with Ernest Shackleton. Masayo and I were the only ones here; Sweden and our fellow travelers were all still asleep.

I felt at home immediately. Why shouldn’t I get to experience some unexpected luxury like this? And why shouldn’t I get to feel that this decaying grandeur is luxurious? I’ve made the effort to save money and fly all the way here — I’m going to appreciate it! This is the spirit of backpacking: having no particular expectations, and just loving the strange and unanticipated things that line your path.

At any rate, the wifi in Roald Amundsen’s antechamber worked and we sent our emails, then went to find breakfast. (The boat hostel had a breakfast buffet but it cost too much extra and we declined.) We didn’t get far into Stockholm: right across the street from the boat was a cafe called Albert and Jack’s.

Albert and Jack’s was a cute litte cafe and bakery, with dusty-but-clean wooden floors and counters, cheerfully murmuring customers at tables, the pervading scent of coffee, and a tasty-looking array of baked items and other foods.

We each got a large coffee and a cup of yogurt with berries and granola, plus a large doughnut that we shared. We found a table in the back beside a window that looked out onto an alley into Gamla Stan (“Old Town”), through which we watched the cold grey morning get slowly overtaken by the warm yellow sun. A bicycle was parked across the cobblestoned street next to a flat brick-red building, through whose large glass windows we could see others just starting their day.

How great to be in Scandinavia on this most amazing morning.

I took a shot of Humalog through my Bluff Works travel pants leg (and long underwear) at the table, and we had our first real meal of the trip, which was as tasty as it looked. As we ate, they played “Stayin’ Alive” on the radio. It was a jarring choice, but it matched the atmosphere, somehow. Or maybe it’s just that, when traveling, whatever strange circumstances you find yourself in seem ok – all part of the spectacle.

After breakfast we strolled around Gamla Stan — with no guidebook and no map. Gamla Stan is a small-ish area of narrow and winding cobblestone streets; tall, old, colorful buildings tower overhead on either side, with their curious statues and ornate doorways. The stores were mostly closed, but we didn’t care: looking at the Swedish signs and checking out the lit window displays was an adventure unto itself. I looked in a little market for low BG snacks but everything was so expensive; I eventually settled on a $2 bottle of juice and a Snickers bar.

When packing for this trip I tried to choose clothes that would keep me warm in Europe in winter but that were also light enough to walk around with. Today was my first test: how had I done with the packing? Stockholm was about 6ºC today (43ºF); my layers of thin Heat Tech Uniqlo shirts and long underwear worked great. I was warm all day, and the hat Masayo knitted me helped too.

While traveling I like to play a little game with myself whenever I see a place that sells records: can I find any Ray Charles? I already have most of his albums, so I’m not actually looking to buy anything. It’s just like a treasure hunt. We passed a record store in Stockholm so I checked – and found some Ray LPs! A good sign, I think.

Everything is looking up for this long European trip; all the planets are aligning just fine and the portents are encouraging.

Riddarholmen

We crossed a bridge to Riddarholmen (“The Knights’ Islet”), which is a small island crammed haphazardly with giant buildings from the 1600s; historical Swedish kings and queens are entombed here. We just walked around the cold stone streets admiring the architecture and views.

And speaking of records, several shops in Gamla Stan had LPs in their windows, but they weren’t music stores. Craft stores, cafes, etc; the vinyl was just for decoration. But it was surprisingly good stuff — The Beatles, The Who, The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, all my favorites! Was Stockholm taking pains to welcome me personally to Europe? Evidently so.

To save money at lunch, we found a place offering a “dagens” lunch, which is a cheap lunch course sold in Sweden. Well, cheap by Swedish standards, that is. Cosy Cafe was a hip and cavernous space with newspapers all over the walls, window benches full of pillows, and a high round table where Masayo and I perched. My BG upon arriving was 92.

I ordered a grilled sandwich with salad, citronella tea, and some small cookies, and took a couple units off the Humalog dose I would have had since we’d been walking around so much. The food was rather thick, and not unbelievably delicious, but hey, was warm and filling.

Back at the hostel later, my BG was 307. There goes my perfect trip BG record.

Skeppsholmen

Walking around Stockholm had been an absorbing experience so far, and in the late afternoon we continued, this time across a long bridge to the island of Skeppsholmen (pronounced, I think, “sheps holmen”). There are museums and art centers here, but again we just walked around. It was supremely quiet, like a university during a winter break. Bizarre sculptures sat out on cold, well-cared for lawns beside rows of low, long office buildings. Clutches of small dead leaves swirled around the paths.

Kastellholmen Segways

We crossed over to another tiny island called Kastellholmen, even quieter and with even fewer people. We met a young couple who had rented Segways and were scooting around Stockholm on their own. I took their photo with the guy’s iPhone, and they thanked me and sped off down the hill.

It was getting dark; we crossed over the small island of Helgeandsholmen, which contains Sweden’s wondrous Parliament House, then went back to Gamla Stan for dinner.

The place we found for dinner was perfect. Cafe Sten Sture was off a public square on a dark alley with an sign out front, pleadingly bragging about being able to accommodate 130 people.

“Do dare to go into our 700 years old prison!”
– sign in the stairwell of Cafe Sten Sture

We walked down into the ancient stone cavern with its red candles and empty tables. We were back in time, several centuries at least. Nobody was there, though it seemed open. (The other restaurants in the area were all packed with diners, but not this place.) The brick ceiling arched over us, and old tapestries and decorations — broken violins and concertinas — were fastened to the walls. We began to wonder if it was all really happening. Was this some alternate universe we’d stumbled into?

We sat down and a guy finally came over. In his broken English he explained that the place was a 700-year old former prison, and a king was once killed there (or something). We ordered, and I checked again: #bgnow 118! The 307, like this restaurant, was a distant memory.

We ordered — shrimp soup for Masayo, and Swedish meatballs for me — and waited. No other customers sat down. (Actually, twice people came in, looked around, and then left.) The food was as succulent as the room was characterful — not only were the juicy meatballs perfectly prepared but they combined with the soft mashed potatoes and the tangy lingonberry sauce in a scrumptious way that made me start to wonder what it might take to move to Sweden permanently.

Dessert was at a place called Espresso House elsewhere in Gamla Stan, but I didn’t take any extra insulin for it: I figured the walking would take care of the blood sugar. I did see a fire extinguisher on the wall with a sign that said Skum. That’s a nice touch.

The insulin-less muffin turned out to be a poor decision: I was 238 later in the hostel. A single corrective unit of Humalog and it was off to sleep.

Exploring Gamla Stan in Stockholm without a plan or a map was the perfect way to see it. In places like this, you just take in the buildings, the shops, the pathways, the courtyards, and the other people. Everything you see is what you’re supposed to see.

Sometimes when traveling, it’s nice to be unchained to any plan or itinerary — just go forth and discover.

Have you ever explored an unfamiliar place without a map?

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