Luleå

This wasn’t my favourite part of Sweden

A young English woman was staying in my dorm in Jokkmokk. She was travelling with her Swedish mother who was staying in the same hostel, but had opted for a private room. As you do, I chatted to my room-mate and then later, in the kitchen, was introduced to Mum.

Mum had spent most of her adult life in England, returning to Sweden only for holidays and to visit family. On this trip, she and her daughter had been at a wedding and then decided to tag on some travelling time.

“Go to Luleå,” Mum said. “From there you can make a day-trip to Gammelstad, the old church village.”

“Church village?” My RE teacher ears perked up.

“Yes, in the old days when people would come together for church, many of them would have to travel from their farms miles away. They built tiny houses to stay in and these weekend communities built up around the church. Gammelstad is the biggest and best preserved of these church villages in Sweden.”

“And Luleå itself is a really nice city,” added her daughter.

I’d planned to head south by train the following morning, but after hearing this AND having the hostel owner also tell me how wonderful Luleå was, I changed my mind and decided to take a late-afternoon bus to Luleå instead.

I visited the tourist office in Jokkmokk to get help with sorting out accommodation. It wasn’t easy. The universities were starting back and all accommodation was filling up with students who tend to stay in hostels and guesthouses until they can find somewhere more permanent.

Eventually, the lady in the tourist office found me a bed in a hostel a couple of kilometres walk from the train and bus station.

She looked at me apologetically, “The only problem is that you’ll have to share a room with five young, male Swedish students.”

Hm, five young, male Swedish students? And that’s a problem because …?

Actually, I could see why it might be a problem, but it was only for two nights and I really had no other choice if I wanted to go to the wonderful city of Luleå and the amazing church village of Gammelstad.

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It was evening by the time I arrived in Luleå. I hoisted my pack and looked around the bus station for a clue as to which way I needed to walk. I had a map, I just needed to orientate it.

Street names would have been helpful. A ‘this way into town’ sign would have been useful. Even a bus station map with a ‘you are here’ dot would have assisted me to hold my map the right way up. Did any of these exist? No.

Eventually I found the train station and with my back to it, was able to orientate my map. I set off walking in the direction of the city centre. The hostel was on the far side. I now knew I was going in the right direction, but had no way of knowing which street I was on. I wanted to be sure, so I didn’t walk right past the hostel on a parallel street.

The streets were quite busy with young people heading out for Friday night. I tried to stop a few to ask if they could tell me exactly where I was. The first couple of times, people just looked terrified, put their heads down and scurried past. When I did get anyone to stop, they would shrug and tell me they were newly-arrived students and they didn’t have a clue where they were either.

How could this be so difficult? I’d just spent the best part of a month walking several hundred kilometres in the Arctic wilderness and not got lost once. Finding my way round a city should be easy-peasy.

Eventually, I found a street sign, located myself on the map, made a slight adjustment and got to my hostel.

It was on a busy road leading out of town in an area that was starting to look quite industrial. I rang the bell at street level and the stooped manager came down in the lift to let me in. He complained about his chronic back pain that was causing him to walk doubled over as we went upstairs so he could check me in.

The hostel was a bit grubby and definitely in need of a bit of loving refurbishment, but it was good enough for a couple of nights. Clothes strewn around the dorm floor were the only evidence of my five young, male, Swedish student room-mates. Of course, it being Friday night and Freshers’ Week they were out on the town. In fact, apart from one young guy watching TV in the common room, I had the whole hostel to myself for the evening.

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Next morning, the beds in my dorm were filled with zonked out young men. I got myself ready and studied the big map on the hostel wall to check where the tourist office was.

It wasn’t far, so I headed there first. I walked round in circles several times before I accepted that the tourist office was not where the map claimed it would be.

Back in the town centre, I found a street map that showed the tourist office was now located at the train station. I walked all the way down to the station, only to find it pretty much deserted and definitely no tourist office. I finally found it in the middle of town, in the same building as the library, theatre and art gallery. It was closed.

Saturday. Lots of new people in town. The tourist office was closed.

All I wanted was to know how to get to Gammelstad. I asked the lady in the box office and she thought the buses might go from the end of the street. Only thought, mind you.

Checking out the bus timetable, I decided she was probably right. As I was studying the timetable and trying to figure things out, I must have looked a lot more knowledgeable than I felt because people asked me for help.

“We’re students,” they told me, “we’ve just arrived and don’t know where anywhere is.” Then again, maybe they were just desperate.

The bus eventually arrived. Yes, it was the right one. Could I go to Gammelstad? No. Why? Because the buses in Luleå don’t accept cash. I could’ve paid with my debit card, but by the time I’d paid all the bank charges I’d incur for using my card outside of the UK, that would have been one very expensive bus journey.

I needed to find a newsagent that sold bus tickets and buy my tickets from there. Once I’d done this and had my bus tickets I realised I had to wait an hour for another bus. Rather than hanging around the bus stop, I took myself off to the art gallery.

It was surprisingly interesting AND it was free. At last, I’d found something positive about Luleå.

Lulea art gallery
These faceless portraits drew me to them, but creeped me out at the same time

Lulea art gallery

Lulea art gallery
Does this remind you of the Queen?
Lulea art gallery
Who needs a cutlery drawer, when you can display your spoons like this?

Finally, I made it onto a bus and headed for Gammelstad. So much for my early start, it was now the afternoon. Gammelstad had better be worth it!

Luleå is a city in the far north of Sweden on the Baltic coast. Its large port means of lot of Swedish steel is shipped through here. It’s also an important hub for the technology industry. Even Facebook has located its first data hub outside of the US here. They apparently chose Luleå for its cheap electricity, political stability and cool climate (less money needs to be spent on keeping the systems cool). The large, popular technology university sees an influx of new young people every August. The student population of Luleå is around 13,500. As the entire population is only 47,000 this explains why so many of the people I saw seemed to be young students.

I didn’t particularly like Luleå, mainly because I found it frustrating. And probably because it was the first big place I’d been to after my time in the Arctic wilderness and the small empty town of Jokkmokk. It did have a bit of a buzz about it though, and I imagine if you’re young and involved in the student scene it would be a great place to study and live for a few years.

 

Jumbo Stay Hostel

This is probably the only time I’ll get to sleep on a full-length bed on a plane.

IMG_8677As a grand finale to my wander through Sweden I’d booked myself into the Jumbo Stay Hostel at Stockholm’s Arlanda Airport.

Although this is the budget alternative to other accommodation at the airport, I’d have chosen to stay here even if money were no object. The novelty factor far outweighs anything the posh hotels could offer me.

The hostel is, as its name gives away, a refurbished Jumbo Jet. The plane used is a 747-212B built in 1976. It was originally built for Singapore Airlines, served time with the now defunct Pan Am and ended its days in the air with a Swedish airline that went bankrupt in 2002.

It was then bought by a guy who owned a hostel in Uppsala. He had the interior ripped out and refurbished it with tiny dorm rooms, bathrooms and a cafe.

I didn’t technically need to stay at the airport as my check-in wasn’t until midday, but I was so intrigued by this hostel I couldn’t miss out on the opportunity.

I arrived fairly late in the evening as I’d spent the full day and part of the evening exploring Stockholm and then had to go back to the hostel I’d spent the last few days in to collect my bags. It was easy enough to get the train to the airport and then I jumped on the free airport bus that regularly goes between the terminals and car parks. The bus stop is outside the Jumbo Stay and so only a few seconds walk.

An ugly metal staircase is attached to the side of the plane and there’s also a lift. As I had my big backpack I wimped out and took the lift. The hostel has a shoes off policy and so as soon as I was through the door I had to take my shoes off and leave them on the shoe rack.

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The reception desk faces the door and is manned 24hrs a day. The cafe is to the left of reception at the front of the plane. It doesn’t serve much, but is the place to get breakfast in the morning. It was quite a nice space and I spent some time sitting and reading and drinking coffee the next morning.

 

 

The bulk of the plane is dissected by a narrow corridor with the rooms on either side. I stayed in a 4 bed dorm which had 2 sets of bunk beds. Even though I was late I was able to get a bottom bunk. My room had one girl already in it and another one arrived late on and left very early. The room had a row of porthole windows and a TV which none of us had any interest in using. The beds were comfortable and, unusually for Swedish hostels, came with bedding supplied at no extra charge.

The bathrooms are at the far end of the plane. The toilets and showers are tiny but the shower was surprisingly good. The basins are in a kind of annexe sticking out of the side of the plane. An ironing board, PC and bookshelf are also at this end of plane.

I slept really well and next morning, because I was already at the airport, I could relax and chill. After breakfast I explored a bit more and did a wing-walk – shame that isn’t on my list of 60 things to do before I’m 60!

IMG_8662Ok, it’s a very tame wing-walk as the plane is on the ground, but it’s the only chance I’m ever likely to get to walk on the wing of a plane. The wing has been turned into a kind of veranda and it’s possible to do the wing-walk even if you’re not actually staying at the hostel. Non-residents have to pay, but it was only a few kronor and so is something worth considering if you ever have a few hours to spare at Arlanda.

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Underneath the plane there are picnic tables and a tyre swing, but the weather really wasn’t good enough to spend much time sitting outside.

The engines are currently being turned into private rooms and these would also be quite interesting to stay in if like me, you quite fancy the idea of being able to drop, ‘I remember the time I spent the night in the engine housing of a Jumbo Jet’ into a conversation.

The place I really want to stay though is the cockpit. Stairs enticingly, but out of bounds, led up to it from the side of reception. It’s a double room and is the penthouse of the plane. I’ve seen pictures online but didn’t get to see it for myself. It gets booked months in advance.

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The Jumbo Stay costs more than hostels in the city and I could easily have stayed in the city and got the train in the morning to the airport. If I’d had an early check-in I may have done just this. But because my check-in wasn’t till lunchtime, I knew I’d have time to explore the plane properly, relax and enjoy my surroundings and so I considered it money well spent.

And I got to find out what it’s like to sleep on a full-length bed on a plane AND have a shower on a plane for a lot less than a first-class flight would have cost me!

 

New York hostels

Why are hostels in New York City being closed down?

As owning my own hostel is something I would like to do one day, I get regular updates on my facebook page from a hostel management site. This discussion in the forums has interested me not just because of my general hostel interest, but also because going to New York is also on my list and when I go I’ll be looking for cheap accommodation.

http://www.hostelmanagement.com/forum/f25/new-york-hostels-being-shut-down-4480.html

It seems that lots of hostels have recently been raided and shut down because of changes in a local law about the number of transient people allowed to stay at any one time in an apartment building. This could be due to pressure from the big hotels wanting everyone to stay with them, so they’re trying to squeeze the small guys out of business. If this is the case, then I don’t see how they think it will work. People with a budget of $20 a night are not suddenly going to be able to stump up $200 a night. Instead they’ll just stay away. When these hostels were suddenly shut down travellers staying in them found themselves having to sleep rough. So if the law and the raids are because hostels are deemed ‘unsafe’, then how can sleeping rough in New York City be seen as a safer option? It all seems very short-sighted and bullyboyish to me. If they went after the truly unsafe hostels then fair enough, but that really doesn’t seem to have been the case.

My sympathies go out to the travellers and tourists who have found themselves homeless and the hostel owners and employees who have found themselves businessless and jobless.

The YHA seems to be unaffected by this. Maybe they have dedicated buildings for their hostels and so are exempt? Or is it because they’re a bigger business they don’t get trampled on so easily?