Gamla Stan- Bridging the past and the present

A loaded donkey can hardly negotiate the cobbled streets of Gamla Stan, Old Stockholm. The hairline lanes go up and down between the 17th and 18th century houses; the city is like a roller-coaster ride. The lanes all open out eventually to the blue glittering lake Malaren. The town is clean, cold. And quiet. No one honks. At the end of the long lanes and in between the graceful buildings, trees bloom green, lit like chandeliers. They are all newly planted. The town apparently felled a lot to clear space. Gamla Stan is good to walk and be lost.

The Royal Palace

The going was tough though, because the night before while I was taking the escalator at the railway station at Malmo, a quiet but industrialised city between Copenhagen and Stockholm, a friend fell over me as her pink suitcase had done the same thing to her, and my hamstring had been pulled. The incident served a reminder of how unique life was–I could go down in history as the only Indian traveller to have limped my way through Gamla Stan. No matter how I took the town–on two feet or one–I was reminded that the water-born beauty and the palaces lit by the pale gold of the Nordic sun were like nothing else in Europe.
Please visit Gamla Stan at least once. Or twice if you are a conservationist. The town tells you how to freeze history while living it. The buildings that normal people stay in–so carefully, that where they live remains preserved in time–are only one part of the story. The Royal Palace–a 600-room, imposing, Baroque prosody in stone, the official residence of Carl XVI Gustaf–is the main thing. The palace is Gamla Stan's gravitas.

The main land of Stockholm (stock means log, holm means island), built on 14 islands and connected by 57 bridges, is a weekly illusion to many islanders. Those staying in the more far-flung islands visit the mainland once in two weeks. Food and other essential stuff is airlifted or shipped in small boats. "They believe Sweden is too crowded," said one fellow traveller, a famous, camera-toting anthropologist from Goa, Sonia Nazareth, who shoots first and talks much later. "They must all visit Bombay," she said, "so they understand crowd."

Unlike, say, London, Stockholm is very businesslike by day. Tall people with long overcoats and laptops in their hands and backpacks over their shoulders cross clean, uncluttered roads carefully, and the traffic pauses at lights. Happy immigrants from Turkey–this correspondent met one from Afghanistan–drive taxis. They make around 2,500 euros a month. "No worries," one of them said, "no worries, the government takes care of health care and social security." By night, though, the city goes a little crazy. The bars and pubs and the nightclubs are crowded, and alcohol is consumed, meat carved, and the prices high. But this is a wealthy country, and everybody seems to agree that the main thing is to have a good time.

The City Hall in Stockholm, where the Nobel prize ceremony is held annually

In Stockholm, a place you need to say hello to is the City Hall where the annual Nobel prize ceremony is held in December. A snap with the City Hall at the back is the closest you might come to the Nobel, unless you surprise yourself and win one, one of these days. The Nobel museum is a great way to travel through the lives of brilliant men: almost every Nobel laureate contributes to the museum some memorabilia from his life. You can see, among other things, the sturdy, ancient black bicycle Amarthya Sen used to ride in Oxford, fixed to the wall. See? All Nobel laureates were once humans.

Shoes at the ABBA museum

There is a lot of music in Stockholm. Both traditional and rock. The AbbaW comes from Sweden. At the newly opened Swedish Music Hall of Fame, you can sing with the holograms of Agnetha, Benny, Bjorn and Frida. Or you can just mime, because those songs have been sung too well too many times.