Sweden Archives - Page 3 of 5

Riksdag – The Swedish Parliament

Touring the old and the new at the Parliament building in Stockholm

I’d really wanted to see the Danish Parliament in Copenhagen. Who wouldn’t after watching Borgen every Saturday night on TV? But when I got there ready for the once-weekly tour in English, the times had changed and I’d missed it by an hour.

So when I just happened to pass by the Swedish Parliament and they just happened to have an English language tour about to start and it just happened to be free, of course I had to tag along. I mean, you never know do you? They might decide to make a Swedish version of Borgen and then I’d be kicking myself for not taking an opportunity that had been chucked right in front of me.

There was airport style security to get through to enter the building and lockers which all bags had to be put into. Cameras were fine to carry around though and photographs were allowed.

We piled into the lift and the guide led us to the new building which is literally on top of the old building.

Swedish parliament — The new glass building sitting atop the old building

There were great views from long curving glass wall.

The Prime Minister’s residence was pointed out. It sits across the water from the Parliament building on an ordinary street. Anyone can walk up to his front door. No fences, no barricades. The complete opposite to Downing Street.

We sat in the galleries overlooking the main area where the 349 MPs sit when Parliament is in session whilst the guide explained about the make-up of Parliament and how voting happens.

At the time of the tour there were almost as many female as male MPs, though this has dropped somewhat since September’s general election.

The system of voting means there is always a coalition in government. Currently the PM is a Social Democrat and his party is in coalition with the Moderate Party and the Sweden Democrats.

There seem to be an awful of parties, but many of them didn’t get any seats. I love that there is a Pirate Party of Sweden even though they didn’t get any seats. I wondered if they imagined themselves as a modern day version of the Vikings, but it seems more that they are standing for increased privacy laws and changes in copyright legislation. Not things Vikings would’ve been too bothered about.

Leaving the modern building we headed downstairs to the older parts of the building. This was very different in style.

We saw various meeting and committee rooms and were given a lot more information. The tour lasted about an hour an half and was well worth doing. Even if it wasn’t Borgen.

A Stroll around Gamla Stan

Gamla Stan is one of the best preserved medieval city centres in Europe

It was hot.

I’d expected to find Sweden a bit on the chilly side. I’d packed thermal underwear and a winter sleeping bag. Instead I’d arrived in the middle of a tropical heatwave and found temperatures soaring. News reports were gleefully informing people that parts of Sweden were hotter than Bangkok and Istanbul.

Fortunately I’d also packed sunscreen and sandals.

I left the hostel and caught the subway to Gamla Stan, the old part of Stockholm. My plan was just to wander round and get a feel for the place before I caught the Arctic Circle Express train that evening.

But it was so HOT.

I wandered round colourful narrow streets dating back to the founding of Stockholm in 1252, watched buskers and window shopped.

Everyone seemed in a jolly mood and the ice cream shops were doing a roaring trade.

winter wear in Gamla Stan shop window — This shop wasn’t very busy though

During my wanderings I stumbled across a lovely old church.

St Gertrude’s is known as the German Church because of the number of Germans who lived in this area during the Middle Ages. As St Gertrude is patron saint to travellers and cats I decided I liked her.

And I really liked the cool interior of her church.

Outside the church was a small cafe, shaded by trees. I sat for a while with a coffee. It was so peaceful and even the temperature felt quite pleasant.

Feeling rejuvenated, I headed back into the tourist melee that is Gamla Stan, for a last look around before heading back to the hostel to collect my backpack and catch the train to the Arctic. Surely it would be cooler up there?

The Blue Tower – home of August Strindberg

A chance to nosey around the old home of one of Sweden’s most loved writers.

I didn’t know much about August Strindberg – I’d seen one of his plays, Miss Julie, performed last year – but that was about all I knew. So I can’t say I was going to visit his old apartment because I’m a big fan. The real reason was because I’m nosey and love seeing how other people live.

Over the years, August Strindberg occupied 24 homes in Stockholm. He moved into the Blue Tower shortly after it was built and stayed for four years. Even though he didn’t stay long, this is the home he’s probably most associated with as it’s the only one open to the public.

As a new-build, the apartment was full of mod-cons like a toilet and central heating. He didn’t have a kitchen, but his building did have a lift.

The original lift is still there and taking it is quite an experience. There are no automatic doors here. The passenger (is that what you call someone who takes a lift?) is responsible for sliding and locking into position the doors and gates. The dark wood panelling, pull down seat and gold mesh made me feel as though I was a character in an old film.

The rooms of his apartment are pretty much as they were in his day with most of the furniture having been his own.

Strindberg's apartment — A mask of Beethoven, his favourite composer, hangs over the piano

As the apartment had no kitchen he either ate out or had food delivered.

My favourite room was his study. If I love noseying around people’s homes, I love even more seeing their desks. Unfortunately, this was the only part of the apartment behind glass. I still got a good look though.

His desk is laid out as it was when he died

Even though electricity was included amongst the mod cons in the apartment, Strinberg didn’t use electric lighting. His lamps were powered by kerosene and he was partial to candlesticks in the shape of naked female bodies.

He used the highest quality writing implements – his pen nibs were made from British steel, his ink was French and his paper hand-made.

As well as writing plays and novels, he was interested in science, astronomy, occultism, painting and photography.

The apartment adjoining his also forms part of the museum and this is set up like a ‘real’ museum with lots of artefacts and pictures and plenty of information about his life and work.

The street outside his apartment looked worth exploring too, but I had other places to be. I think this is an area well worth coming back to though.

The Mysterious Death of Olof Palme

A simple stone marks the grave of Sweden’s assassinated Prime Minister.

Olof Palme was the Swedish Prime Minister. He was known for his refusal to align with the superpowers and his support of many third-world liberation movements. Between his stints at being PM he’d served as a special mediator for the UN in the war between Iran and Iraq. He was the first Western head of government to visit Cuba after its revolution.

It wasn’t all good though, as he was criticised for his support of third world leaders with horrendous records of human rights abuse.

At home, he was a supporter of women’s rights, free university education, a good standard of free healthcare for all, unemployment benefits, workers’ rights … basically lots of things that made him very popular.

Hence, security was never seen as a big necessity and when he was ‘off-duty’ if was often non-existent.

On 28th February 1986, he was walking home from the cinema with his wife. It was late, close to midnight, and he and his wife were alone.

He was shot in the back at close range by an attacker who then fired at his wife. His wife wasn’t seriously hurt and survived the attack. The PM was rushed to hospital (a taxi driver used his radio to raise the alarm), but was pronounced dead shortly after his arrival.

Sweden went into shock. This was the sort of thing that happened in America, not in safe Sweden. Of course there was a big police investigation, but it was two years before anyone was arrested and convicted. The assassin was a small-time thief and junkie with a previous record of manslaughter.

Within a year however, Christer Pettersson was freed at appeal as it was decided there hadn’t been enough evidence (and what there was was too dubious) to have convicted him in the first place.

Since then conspiracy theorists have had a field day. Owing to Palme’s criticism of the US (in Vietnam for example) and apartheid era South Africa, both the CIA and the South African security forces have been accused of being involved in his death.

The national obsession with his murder is still strong nearly thirty years later. Only recently a Swedish national newspaper was given access to 15 boxes of files belonging to the late Stieg Larsson (author of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) who had conducted his own investigation into the assassination.

Over the years, in addition to the CIA and the South Africans, suspects have included the Yugoslavian security forces, Swedish security forces, right-wing Swedish groups and the Kurdish separatist PKK movement.

Many people have confessed to the murder (around 130), but these confessions have been discounted. Alibis for suspects have been withdrawn, others have been given. But with no new hard evidence it seems the identity and motivation of Palme’s killer is going to remain a mystery.

As I was in Stockholm and I’d read a bit about this case and found it quite intriguing, I decided to visit the church where he was buried.

Adolf Fredrik Church is beautiful. It was built in the 18th century to replace an earlier wooden church. Palme is not the only person of note to have been buried there. Theologian René Descartes’ remains were originally interred here, but were later removed to France.

There was a monument inside the church dedicated to René Descartes.

And also one dedicated to Sven Hedin; explorer, geographer and map-maker extraordinaire. He travelled extensively in Central Asia during the 1800s becoming an expert on Tibet, mapping the Great Wall of China, uncovering buried Buddhist cities in China and publishing the first atlas on Central Asia.

Leaving the interior of the church, I wandered around the surrounding gardens and graveyard and found what I’d come to see.

The simple stone memorial with his signature carved into it was so much nicer than a big elaborate monument would have been.

Most of the pictures I’ve seen since have shown flowers laid at its base, but the day I was there, there were none. Just the simple memorial with a young tree growing alongside.

Swedish Culture and Traditions at the Nordiska Museet

Stuffed swans and seven types of biscuit. Those were the days.

I’m an anthropologist. I’ve even got a certificate to prove it.

I don’t use my anthropology officially in my day-t0-day life, but unofficially? I find it a great excuse for being nosey. I love finding out about how other people live and think, about their beliefs, culture and traditions. Learning about other cultures is one of reasons I love travel so much.

Whenever I’m in a city with a cultural museum I put it high on my list of must-see places.

The Nordiska Museet (Nordic Museum) in Stockholm is Sweden’s largest museum of cultural history, so of course I had to spend a few hours there.

This huge wooden carving of King Gustav Vasa greets visitors as they enter the museum.

It’s situated next door to Sweden’s biggest tourist attraction, Vasa, so I combined the two on the same day. They were both included in the 3 day Stockholm Pass I’d bought as well, so I didn’t have worry about separate admission costs.

Here’s the blurb from the website:

The Nordic Museum has exhibitions about life and work, trends and traditions, in Sweden from the 16th century to today. Our collections include clothes and fashion, textiles, furniture and interiors, jewellery, photography, folk art, glass and china. The Museum was founded in 1873 by Artur Hazelius.

I wasn’t sure how interesting this was going to be from the description. Clothes, jewellery and china aren’t amongst the things I find most scintillating, but as I was already in the area and it wasn’t going to cost me anything, it was worth a look.

As it happened, I found it far more interesting than I’d hoped and I ended up staying until closing time.

Here’s some of what I found.

7 types of biscuit — Seven types of biscuit

Around the turn of the last century it became more common to invite people round for coffee than for dinner. This wasn’t necesarily the easy option though, as it was expected that you would offer seven types of biscuits. And, get this, guests would be expected to try all seven types. It would be rude not to. With my love of all things fika, I’d have been in my element at one of these gatherings!

The upper echelons of society didn’t compeletely give up on their posh dinner parties though. Tables would glitter with gilt bronze, crystal, silver and mirrored glass. Each place setting was completed with a menu written in French (very posh) and a whole set of glasses. Each course was served with a different wine to accompany it and each wine was poured into a fresh glass. There were a lot of courses.

Dishes on a typical menu included chicken farce in broth, filled puff pastry, steamed turbot fillets, venison steak, ox-tongue farce, roasted hazel hen, goose-liver terrine, asparagus, English plum pudding, ice cream, cheese and fruit.

These weren’t choices; each dish was served as a separate course and everyone got a helping of everything. I don’t even know what half of them are, but it seems very meaty. I think I’d have stuck to the biscuits. And maybe the wine.

This dessert table had me salivating. I doubt I’d have been allowed to eat any of it though. Laws stated what the different classes could serve on their dessert tables. What? The poor were limited to nuts and honey-soaked fruit, whilst the rich could serve pretty much what they wanted.

For festive occassions the rich really went over the top. The centrepiece of this table is the roast swan that has been stuffed back into its plumage. The same plumage could be used over and again with a new roast sitting in it each time. Not sure I’d fancy that. Wouldn’t it get smelly?

The museum wasn’t all food. There were also displays on Swedish festivals which I found quite interesting. The displays on furniture, costume, and jewellery were ok, but it was the food through the ages that most caught my attention.

I did decide I wanted one of these chairs though.

Gammelstad

The best preserved church village in northern Sweden is a World Heritage Site and a very busy wedding venue. Tourists are not particularly welcome.

I hadn’t planned to go to Luleå, but when an older Swedish lady in the hostel in Jokkmokk told me I must go there so I could visit Gammelstad and then the hostel owner said the same thing, I changed my plans.

I hadn’t had the best of starts in Luleå and so far wasn’t impressed. After a few trials and tribulations I finally got on the bus that would take me to Gammelstad.

The bus driver put me off at the main stop near the church in Gammelstad and showed me where to wait to get the bus back.

As I was near the church, I thought that should be the first place I visited. Unfortunately a wedding was just about to start so, rather than crash the wedding, I wandered over to the tourist office and museum.

Gammelstad is the best preserved and largest of the unique church villages found in northern Sweden. So much so, that it is now a World Heritage Site.

Church villages grew up because parishes were spread far over inhospitable terrain, making it difficult for church-goers to pop in for a quick visit. Instead, people built small houses around the church and would stay overnight when they came for Sunday services. The villages not only provided a place a to sleep, but a sense of community for neighbours who lived too far apart to socialise during the week.

Four hundred and twenty four tiny red houses are packed in tightly around the church. The wooden sides are painted with ‘Falu red’, a paint that originated as a by-product from all the copper mines in the northern parts of Sweden. It was found that mixing copper with paint protected the wood from the elements and people would make their own paint, mixing up the ingredients on the stove.

Window frames were (and still are) painted white making for a very striking look.

The houses in Gammelstad were used as intended up until the 1950s. Now most of them are privately owned by people in Luleå who use them as weekend getaway cottages. They are under contract to keep them in a good sense of repair and to not change the look of them.

One cottage is open to visitors and has been kept as it would have been.

I wandered in and out of the maze-like gaps between the houses and then took off over the fields to check out some of the barns and other farm buildings that form part of the site. Various brides were leaning up against the buildings with their new husbands having their photos taken.

It would have been nice to sit in a little cafe and have a coffee, but the cafe was closed. Saturday afternoon at a World Heritage Site, why on earth had I expected it to be open? Silly me.

Gammelstad bike — This was advertising a shop that wasn’t open

The larger pub/restaurant was in full swing with the wedding party. I didn’t know if they would’ve served me or not, but didn’t particularly feel like going in and sitting amongst all the wedding guests anyway.

Going back to the 15th century stone church, there was yet another wedding in progress. I sat outside and waited for it to finish, watching another wedding party arrive as I waited. It all seemed a bit like a factory production line. Feed them in one end and out the other.

As the bride and groom exited the church, I dodged the confetti and slipped in behind them. The church was beautiful, but some kind of manager guy was not happy with me being there.

I pointed out that I’d come an awful long way and it’s not as though I could just pop back another time. I also pointed out that there was no wedding in progress and I’d been considerate and patient enough to wait until it was between weddings to have a look around. And I pointed out that surely anyone choosing to get married at a World Heritage Site on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of August is going to expect a few tourists to be around. And the people setting up for the next wedding didn’t seem bothered by me at all. But still, I felt like I was being thrown out. I snapped a few photos and left feeling rather frustrated that I hadn’t been able to have a proper look round.

I’d pretty much exhausted the ‘things to do’ in Gammelstad by this time and a bus was due so I headed back to the bus stop and back to Luleå.

Was Gammelstad worth my lengthy diversion to Luleå? I seemed to spend most of my time there feeling very frustrated (the only time and place I’ve ever felt like this in Sweden), but the church village was interesting and I’m glad I’ve seen it. I’ll probably never go there again so I don’t regret taking a few days out of my trip down the middle of the Sweden to head to the coast to see it whilst I had the chance.

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

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.

Researching and writing

I’m working hard on my book at the moment. Even to the extent of inventing my own language! (Dutlish anyone?)

After a lot of research into travel books (good excuse to do lots of reading) I’ve come to the conclusion that most books have around 200 pages and 100,000 words. Give or take 10-20%. This is reassuring because this is what I’m aiming for with the book I’m trying to write at the moment. I’m not looking at bestselling travel writers as they tend to have much longer books, but more the sort of writers you only discover when researching books on a particular region or way of travelling.

At the moment I’m about a third of the way there with around 32,000 words. I’ve divided the writing of my first draft into three phases:

Phase one was typing up my diary notes. I kept quite a detailed diary as I was walking, but as I was hand-writing and, more importantly, not wanting to add a huge notebook to my load, it was in note form. My typing up in phase one involved writing it up into proper sentences and paragraphs rather than just copying up notes. As I’m a fairly fast typist this was completed quite quickly.

I’m now working on phase two, which is much slower going. Phase two involves the factual side of my walk and means lots of research. One of my USPs (unique selling points) is that the book will be useful for anyone planning, or thinking about, a walk along the Kungsleden. Although it’s not intended as a guidebook, I do want to get quite a lot of solid information into it. One of the reasons I wanted to write this book is because so few people in the English speaking world are aware of this walk and there is very little written on it in English. The very reason I want to write the book is also the reason my research is going quite slowly – there’s very little written on it in English.

I’m finding quite a lot on the internet, but it tends to be in Swedish. Although I picked up a few Swedish words, my language skills are definitely not of the proficiency needed for reading Swedish websites. I’m ploughing through, picking out the words I know and finding myself doing a complicated process of translating into English via Dutch. Yes, Dutch. When I was in Scandinavia in February I noticed how a lot of the words in both Danish and Swedish seemed to share a similar root to Dutch. I don’t speak Dutch, but my Dutch vocabulary is far more extensive than my Swedish vocabulary and whilst I was travelling over the summer I found this came in very useful. I’m finding it just as useful now. When I’ve read through a page and got the gist of it in Dutch and English (Dutlish?), I’ll put any relevant bits into Google translate to double-check. Although it comes up with a few strange translations and the word order is sometimes rather jumbled, I’m quite impressed with it. I wouldn’t use it to translate anything of importance, say a legal document, but for my purpose it’s fine.

Once I’ve done some research and made my own notes, I’m then inserting this into whichever part of my draft I think it’ll best fit. This is all taking quite a long time. I’m aiming to have roughly 50,000 words by the end of the phase two. That’ll be half the book dedicated to my first USP. Only 18,000 words to go then …

Phase three will be dedicated to my second USP which is something along the lines of stressed, middle-aged woman/teacher gives up job and goes for a long walk in the Arctic wilderness. I think I’m going to enjoy writing this part. Not that I’m not enjoying what I’m doing at the moment, but I’m conscious of time and want to get as much done as possible before the need to pay bills means I have to go back to work.

Of course, once it’s all done, that’s only really the start of it. My first draft will be a collection of disorganised ramblings and will be in need of some serious editing. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Dorotea Open Air Museum

I’d gone to Dorotea to visit the caravan museum which turned out to be closed. But I still found plenty to do.

I’d gone to Dorotea specifically to visit the caravan museum. As the owner of a tiny campervan I’d thought I’d be able to pick up lots of ideas and tips that I could adapt.

Although it was still August, the summer season was over, leaves were just starting to turn golden and the caravan museum had closed for the winter. In fact it’s only open for about three weeks, so chances of catching it open are always going to be pretty slim.

I chatted to the Dutch couple who ran the campsite and they said they didn’t understand why the season finished so early either. This wasn’t just the caravan museum that was closed, but many other places in northern and central Sweden. Yes, the weather was turning autumnal, children were back at school and students were back at university, but for foreign tourists it was still the height of their summer holidays and there still seemed to be plenty around. Okay, maybe not in Dorotea, but certainly in other places.

Dorotea campsite — My tent looked really lonely in the campsite

As I didn’t have a caravan museum to go to, I had plenty of time to do visit the other tourist attraction in Dorotea – the Open Air Museum.

First, I headed up the hill past the museum to the small church to find Björn Martinius’ large sculpture ‘The Last Supper’. I’d read that this was a set of life-size wooden carvings, but was still taken aback when I pushed open the door to the small chapel by the church’s graveyard.

Chapel housing the Last Supper — The chapel housing the ‘Last Supper’ sculpture

My first thought was that I’d walked in on someone. A second later I noticed the people sat beside him and a second after that I realised these were the carvings.

On closer inspection they were obviously wooden. That they appear so realistic at first glance has, I think, a lot to do with their size and the way they fill the space. As soon as you slip inside the doorway, rather than standing back as with most sculptures, with The Last Supper you could be an extra guest.

The church itself dates from 1934 and was designed by Evert Milles, brother of sculptor Carl Milles. It was built to replace the original 1799 church after it burnt down in 1932. I wanted to have a look inside as it holds some sculptures by Carl Milles. However, the church was locked and I couldn’t see through the windows. I had to wait until I got back to Stockholm to get my fill of Carl Milles’ work.

I plodded back down Kulerbacken hill to the open air museum. There was no-one about and I had a quick wander before finding the curator in her office. She told me she was waiting for the police because they’d had a break-in the night before. Several of the buildings had been broken into and because each building is stuffed with so many artifacts it wasn’t an easy job working out what had actually gone missing.

Open air museum, Dorotea — The Open Air Museum

She took the time to wander round with me though, explaining about the ways of life in days gone by. Once the police arrived she left me to wander on my own.

Once I’d finished, I called back into the office to thank her and say goodbye. As we’d walked round she’d told me I’d missed the traditional bread baking display earlier in the day. Now, as I was about to leave, she presented me with a bag of the traditional bread as a gift.

I hadn’t got to see the caravan museum, which had been my sole reason for coming to Dorotea, but I’d still enjoyed my day and like that I still have a reason to come back one day. Though I’ll check that the caravan museum is actually open first.

Jokkmokk and Ájtte – a Sámi Town and Museum

Arriving in Jokkmokk felt a bit like entering a ghost town.

Jokkmokk (pronounced ‘Yokkmokk’) lies just 7km inside the Arctic Circle in the far north of Sweden and is one of the main centres for the indigenous Sámi population.

I’d met a few Sámi people and seen some of their villages whilst I was walking the Kungsleden. When I left the path, Jokkmokk was the first place I headed to. I planned to stay overnight to give me plenty of time to visit the Sámi museum as well as have a look round the town.

Arriving at the bus station, I hoisted my backpack and headed straight down the main road to the museum.

The main road was very wide and very quiet.

2,786 people live in Jokkmokk, but I guess most of them were out of town the day I was there. Many of the Sámi spend time in the mountains with their reindeer during the summer and only move into the towns during the winter months, so maybe they really were all out of town.

The museum – called Ájtte – was quite large and rather spacious with a good bookshop and a restaurant selling tradtional food. As this was heavily meat based (reindeer), I settled for coffee and cake.

The museum itself, was quite informative and had some good exhibits, but there wasn’t as much to see as I’d expected.

I liked this mural on the wall near the entrance. It’s a modern day work of art, but is based on the rock paintings from thousands of years ago that can still be seen today in some places.

There was a replica traditional home inside the museum as well as several different examples in the grounds outside.

There were also examples of traditional costume. The colours decorating the costume all have meaning, as do the patterns. A person can tell where another comes from by looking at their costume.

This man was wearing a bird on his head.

This tilted globe shows the Arctic. I found myself feeling quite disoriented as I tried to pick out the different countries from this angle.

Leaving the museum, I had a look in the church which seemed very white.

The inside was beautiful and there was a wood planted in the grounds around the church.

I had planned on walking a little way out of town and camping, but after a visit to the tourist office to use the free internet and find out about onward trains and buses, I had a change of heart and decided I wanted a bit of luxury.

So instead I checked into the very homely youth hostel.

The town was still just as quiet when I came to leave. This is what should have been rush hour at the bus station. About 5pm on a Friday evening!

Tag: Sweden

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