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Friday, April 5, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: June 18-20 England to Sweden (1303 miles)



Friday June 18 6.30AM: 
Amersham to Paris (260 miles)
Amersham Station
photo by kind courtesy of 
http://www.inconvenientmule.co.uk/commuter/wp-content/uploads/2010/1/140920083131.j0g

Donna and I awoke excitedly at 6.30am!  After we had showered and eaten breakfast, John drove us both to Amersham to catch the train to London.
photo by kind courtesy of:
http://arailwayrunsthroughit.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/sandwiches.jpg?w=497
At Marylebone, we joined the rush-hour throng, arriving at Victoria Station by 8.30am.  There, we shopped for lunch-time sandwiches to eat en route to our connection in Folkestone.  Our train arrived there by 12.30pm, and we were efficiently shunted onto the cross Channel ferry by 1pm.

All went smoothly till our ferry arrived in France at 2.30pm [1.30pm British time] local time. Industrial strikes had closed those docks preventing us from disembarking at Calais. Instead, our vessel was re-routed to Boulogne, where, after much ado, we caught a train back to Calais, so as to make other connections within France.

We used our 2-month Eurail passes for the very 
first time on this short trip between French ports.
We now had 8 weeks in which to travel the length 
and breadth of Europe before our time ran out.

After much ado, we finally arrived at Calais at 6pm [5pm British time].  Having finished our British Rail rations before reaching Dover, we were now both very hungry.  But we had not one French franc between us.
photo by kind courtesy of 
We desperately needed to exchange some traveller's cheques so that we could eat.  But, because of the strike, the exchange at Calais had remained closed that day.

With stomachs growling and patience dwindling, we then wandered into the nearest 'bar', intending to plead for some help.  Despite months of copious and detailed planning, we could not have imagined that political unrest in France would so complicate the very beginning of our trip.
photo by kind courtesy of 
Seeing our predicamment, a kind and very observent gentleman simply gave us 2 francs, with which we bought one glass of red wine each.  We immediately made a toast to our benefactor's health and saw this event as a good omen for the beginning of our Grand Tour of Europe!

We had, however, yet to learn just how very long this 'beginning' would take.

At 7.30pm, we considered our options and decided to catch the train to Paris, because connections through France into Scandinavia were more plentiful from the capital.

Once underway, we had plenty of time to eat, but found the rate of exchange on French trains to be as exorbitant as their food prices.  So Donna bought us each a drink, paid for with her remaining English notes. And happily, that second glass of wine  temporarily eliminated most of our stress.
Our lack of skill in conversational French was no obstacle when we eventually arrived at La Gare du Paris Nord at 10.30pm.

By now quite dizzy with hunger, we were relieved and grateful to be aided by another gallant Frenchman. This amazing gentleman first interceded with station booking clerks on our behalf.  He then ensured that our continuing journey to Stockholm remained worry-free.  We were both extremely grateful that this kind soul was there to rescue two damsels in distress that evening.

Our angels were 
already working overtime!
While our angel of mercy arranged our travel schedule, Donna and I stowed our backpacks in the station lockers. After what seemed like forever, our kind interpreter informed us of our travel times and connection points, wished us a happy trip and then disappeared into the night.

Donna read her book, till I suggested that we jay-walk through the Parisian traffic to the open sidewalk cafe I had spotted across the street from Paris Nord.  If nothing else, the adrenaline rush would keep us awake!

Once there, we discovered that the cafe served only demi-tasses of thick, bitter Turkish coffee. But I knew from my experience with Turkish coffee in Spain, that it would keep us awake long enough to board the 11.37pm overnight train to Koln.(Cologne)


Friday June 18  11.37PM:
Paris to Cologne 

(266 miles)
photo by kind courtesy of 
Our French 'protector' had booked us each a couchette for our overnight comfort.  We were both quite surprised that anyone could have designed, much less fitted, 6 sleeping berths into that one small 7 x 8 foot compartment.

But, despite a long day of travel, I was able to sleep only intermittently; partly because of the train made many lurching stops along the way, but also because the other four berths were occupied by males whose snores drowned out all other sounds.


Determined to overcome this annoyance, I made a mental note to buy earplugs before booking my next overnight train journey.


Saturday June 19 6.30AM: 

 photo by kind courtesy of: 
We were duly deposited at the station near the entrance of Cologne's great Gothic Cathedral at 6.30am German time.

Sadly the great doors to the Cathedral were closed, so we had to content ourselves with its external architecture of soaring stone spires and Gothic arches.

To learn more about Cologne Cathedral press here

Thankfully the money-exchange was open, so we each cashed about $10 (one single day's allowance) then parked our backpacks in a locker at the station and went sight-seeing around the Cathedral. The morning was warm and sunny, which considerably brightened my spirits.  And the first order fo the day was to find something to eat.

For breakfast, we simply ate whatever was available!

Strudel was available!! 
photo by kind courtesy of: 

YUM!!
I took many pictures of the Cathedral and the picturesque roadways and shops around it. Then we both stocked up on soft drinks and snacks for our continuing journey to Denmark and Sweden.

Saturday June 19 9.00AM

Cologne to Copenhagen
(434 miles)
The train that took us to Copenhagen was first-class all the way!  It had fully reclining seats that turned the normally 6-person compartment into one enormous 7 x 8 ft bed!   Donna and I wasted no time in storing our back-packs overhead so that we could get horizontal and catch up on our missed night of sleep.

Happily we were to enjoy a glorious 9 hours of uninterrupted snoozing, before our train boarded the train-ferry that links Germany to Denmark.  Then the usual call of "Passports" told us it was time to check out the buffet in the Puttgarden Ferry.

Danish Smørrebrød 

6.00PM

photo by kind courtesy of www.biteandbooze.com 
This  ferry had an international reputation for giving travellers who had the good fortune to arrive on the 6pm T.E.E. train, a delicious banquet called Smorrebrod.

After 34 hours of non-stop travel, Donna and I each happily paid the reasonable price of six Danish krone to gorge ourselves on everything in sight. Only when we were sated, did we notice that other, more savvy, travellers brazenly spooned second and third helpings of this delicious fare into personal sized tupperware containers - no doubt for midnight feasts!

Aboard the Ferry, we exchanged traveller's cheques for Danish and Swedish krone. And then, as the ferry was docking, we re-boarded our TEE for the short trip to Copenhagen.  We were steadily heading north, so our daylight hours were slowly increasing.

The sun had not yet set when we arrived  in Copenhagen at 8.10pm.  I had time to purchase a cup of tea for the inflated price of 6.60 Danish krone. *gulp!*  That was more than our Smorrebrod had cost us.

We had to remain close to the station in order to catch our connecting night-train through Southern Sweden.  As before, Donna chose to read while I preferred to walked up and down, stretching my legs while window-shopping and people-watching.

Saturday June 19 9.00 PM:
Copenhagen to Stockholm 
(343 miles)
For our second overnight train journey, this time from Copenhagen to Stockholm we purchased almost-comfortable couchettes, which, with the addition of newly purchased wax ear-plugs, resulted in my first full night's sleep since leaving England. I was so exhausted, I could have slept standing upright!

Sunday June 20 7.20 AM: 
Stockholm  
photo by kind courtesy of  nidalsouvenirs.ecrater.co.uk 
Our train pulled into a Stockholm's deserted Centrallen station the next morning at 7.20am.  Donna and I immediately rented a station locker for our back-packs then treated ourselves to a cup of tea each before heading outside to discover Stockholm.

Even for a Sunday morning, the streets of Stockholm sported very little vehicular traffic. Except for Donna and myself, they seemed to be entirely devoid of life.

photo by kind courtesy of 

Where were all the people?

We had heard that Swedes were clinically clean, and most particular about keeping their streets clean. So, why were there papers and streamers strewn about everywhere?

Two enormous full-colour photos that adorned the walls of the building across from Centrallen provided a clue.  They depicted a happy couple who radiated importance - since their faces alone stood 10-feet tall!  But, apart from their names, we could not translate what was written about them.

Stockholm was eerily quiet that morning, feeling more like a scene from "Outer Limits" than a summer Sunday in a thriving 20th-century European metropolis!

Still perplexed, Donna and I walked the several blocks to the Information Center, where two cheerful, English-speaking ladies explained why the city had been so deserted that day.

On Saturday June 19, 1976, Sweden's King Gustaf XVI had married his Silvia.  We had only just missed being uninvited guests at a city- and country-wide celebration of their Royal Nuptials

Twenty-four hours earlier, these same streets had been filled with merry-makers, celebrating their King's marriage. We had planned our trip, blissfully unaware that our arrival in Stockholm was to have coincided with this joyous occasion.

We had tried so hard to arrive in Stockholm on 19th. Thankfully labour strikes and ill-perceived train schedules had detained us just long enough for the revelry to end and accommodation to, once again, become available.

After a sleep-deprived weekend, beset with challenges, I doubt if Donna or I would have felt much like negotiating a street-party upon our arrival in Stockholm. So we were both incredibly grateful to have arrived the day AFTER the Royal Wedding. With overnight revellers vacating their rooms, we had no trouble booking a pension for that night.

Those irritating travel delays now seemed to me to be ordained by angels. 

 An hour later, we had reclaimed our luggage and pre-paid 2 nights at the rear of an establishment that looked rather dubious from the outside.  But in Europe, one cannot judge a hotel by its facade.  Though our room had only a partial view of the courtyard, it was deliciously quiet, our beds were comfortable, and there was plenty of hot water for showers.

Duly refreshed, I gave my jeans and sneakers a rest, dressing instead in a skirt and sling-backs. Then, armed with information pamphlets from the Visitor's Centre, I negotiated the bus to Skansen. 2kr bought a ticket that lasted me an hour on Stockholm's bus system - regardless of direction travelled.

 Skansen
Skansen is the world's first outdoor museum, displaying a variety of Stockholm's heritage buildings, as well as the old-time skills that once provided inhabitants with clothing, food and entertainment. Being surrounded by ancient houses, with men, woman and children dressed in traditional costume was fascinating. And, after so much time in a train, I enjoyed spending the cool, windy afternoon, soaking in the living history.

Walking across the hilly coastal terrain upon which Skansen was created was quite a work-out. No wonder Swedes have such marvellous legs.  They have a passion for walking and for stone steps!

by kind courtesy of 
The open air museum, known as Skansen, features original houses and features village life from Lapp and Swedish culture.

I saw reindeer in their zoo, and was amused to discover that are the same animal as Canada's caribou!  But somehow the thought of Santa's sleigh being pulled by a team of caribou just doesn't have the same ring of romance, does it?!  Rudolph the red-nosed caribou......um, perhaps not!

At scheduled times, young folk-dances in national costume entertained visitors, their firey red and blond heads glinting in the slanted northern sunlight.  On looking around myself, I was surprised to notice that there were as many red-headed people in the crowd as there were blonds.


After several hours of walking and taking happy photos at Skansen, I stopped to rest my complaining knees and ate a shrimp salad at Cafeteria Solliden.  Duly restored, I was ready to return to the pension.  I had a yen to go dancing.  But the dance-hall at Skansen was closed. And facing the crowds at Grona Lund, Stockholm's Amusement Park, did not appeal that night.

I felt quite proud of myself for creating an educational open-air day, after such a long rail journey from England. But I had been having so much fun in Skansen that I completely lost track of time.

Stockholm lies 59 degrees north of the equator, and experiences its longest day each year on June 21.  Without realizing it, I had stayed out for many hours longer than intended. So it was almost suppertime before I returned to the Pension and a somewhat worried travel companion.

In record time, I changed into my dancing clothes, then Donna and I caught buses to Stockholm's Mocambo Club to listen to some good blues music. There we met Anildo from Cape Verde Islands who helped us to pronounce some of the more impossible Swedish phrases.  Later, he escorted us through tunnelbana (underground) and showed us the massive information board at Centrallen.

Centrallen Stockholm's underground was a surreal experience, especially for a girl who had grown up with London's dull and dirty tube system.
photo by kind courtesy of enviromeant.com
Here the platforms were wide and clean, featuring artistically painted natural rock walls. There was a hop-scotch area for children, a safe distance from the rails, automatic escalators and a lift for disabled people or those with heavy loads. And, best of all, the trains were bright, clean and on time.

Donna and I returned to the pension, and were in our beds within an hour of midnight. And we sorely needed to sleep because early the next morning, we would fly into the Arctic Circle to celebrate the Summer Solstice in Sweden's Lappland city of Kiruna.
NEXT WEEK!
June 21 
Sweden
Midsummer Dinner and Dancing

A Midnight Sun Adventure 

 The World's Largest Iron Mine

 The Arctic Circle
GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE 
June 21 SWEDEN's ARCTIC and Journey South
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