Göta Canal

On our way to and from Öland, we crossed over the Göta Canal at Söderköping. Although built to aid shipping between Göteborg on the west coast and the Baltic Sea, it is primarily used these days for pleasure cruises. On our way back from Öland, we stopped in Söderköping for some ice cream near the locks and to look around a bit.

I was surprised that most of the boats were large sailboats - you can't sail in a canal! but Ann pointed out that the canal runs through the two largest lakes in Sweden, Vännern and Vättern, which are great for sailing. A number of the yachts carried French and German flags.

Beyond the guest harbor, the canal seems sleepy and peaceful.

Turning back towards the town, I was surprised to see this sign for a rabbit crossing.

Across the canal, a bunny makes a brave racing dive.

While on the other side, his pals help pull him out.

Öland Sights

In and around the main event of the wedding, I had a few glimpses of Öland. There wasn't time to do major sightseeing, but still saw lots of windmills, etc.

This style of windmill is typical of Öland, and there are lots still scattered around the island. Most are in disrepair, but some are in various stages of restoration. There were also areas with the huge modern wind generators - a windswept place.

It's a long skinny island, with sand beaches facing the Baltic.

On the channel side, facing Kalmar and the coast north of it, are mostly stone beaches. This old stone cottage or hut, with thatched roof, was next to the stone beach where we had a grill fest the night before the wedding.

This is a long view of that stone beach. I liked how some of cliffs had collapsed onto the beach.

The pasture behind the community hall where the reception was held could be accessed using this stile. At one break in the festivities, the photographer had all the women climb over this so he could take a group picture in the pasture. I'm still not sure why. I did manage to climb over the stile.

A pasture beyond Sandby pensionat, where cows were grazing next to the sea.

Behind the church was this old stone barn, perhaps for the minister's animals, perhaps for the parishioners' horses during the long services.

I used the long zoom to see the plaque above the door so we could determine the date. It says 1850.

Kalmar

We headed down to Öland on Wednesday. It was a scenic drive, but slow due to road construction and traffic. When we got to Kalmar, the gateway to Öland, we drove around the center of town a bit before taking the bridge.

The old castle, heavily fortified at a time when they thought the Poles might attack across the Baltic.

Stone work on an old church.

A water tower?  Not quite sure what this was, but looked impressive.

The bridge.

Vätö

My trip started with a long flight from Seattle to Iceland, then a switch to a different plane (which was delayed) to fly to Stockholm. Ann met me at the gate, we made our way to the baggage claim and collected my luggage, then to her car and drove straight out to Vätö. Mom, Jill and Bob were already there. We had a couple of days to relax and enjoy the Swedish summer weather.

Ann and Ketil"s summer house

Ann"s cement works

Small harbor on Vätö

Old building with stone foundation

Lucia Day

Santa Lucia's Day is an important pre-Christmas celebration in Sweden. Although she's an Italian saint, and the Swedes haven't been Catholic for centuries, she represents the bringing of light into the darkest time of the year. Traditionally, the oldest girl in the family dresses in white with candles in a wreath in her hair, and brings buns to the family in the early morning. It's now celebrated in public ceremonies all across Sweden, in schools, etc.

When I spent most of a year living in Stockholm, I learned first hand how depressing the winters can be there. I came across a speech given at the Nobel banquet in 1974 that expressed how this day brings hope for relief from the darkness.

Christian de Duve's speech at the Nobel Banquet, December 10, 1974
Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen, Fellow Students,I hope I may still be allowed to use the term fellow students. For we know that once we stop learning and call ourselves learned, we become useless members of the scientific society. On behalf of my fellow Nobel laureates and on my own, thank you for your kind words, and for your beautiful songs.

To me personally, they have been a reminder of my long association with Sweden and Swedish students. It started 35 years ago, when I attended a summer course at the University of Lund. I followed lectures on the history, geography, economy and political organization of Sweden. And I received a book called Ett år med Familjen Biörck to learn Swedish.

Efter tre veckor talade jag svenska flytande och reste till Stockholm. Där kommer jag ihåg ett skräckinjagande möte med en ung man som tog emot mig i ett tjänsterum som såg ut som det tillhörde minst ett statsråd. Den unge mannen var ordförande i medicinska föreningen. Jag skall inte säga hans namn, eftersom han numera är en framstående professor och ikväll finns här i Blå Hallen.

Sedan bröt kriget ut, och under några år levde jag i mörker med minnet av Sveriges sjöar, träd och blåa himmel. Det dröjde till 1946 innan jag kunde återvända och få tillbringa två oförglömliga år tillsammans med professor Hugo Theorell i hans laboratorium.

Vintern gick mot sitt slut när jag kom till Sverige, och utan att riktigt förstå det hela deltog jag i alla riter och hyllningar till vår och sommar; eldarna på Valborgsmäss, Midsommaraftonens dans till gryningen, solnedgången i skärgården när vattnet skimrade i alla regnbågens färger.

Sedan blev dagarna allt kortare, nätterna syntes utan slut, dagsljuset blev matt och grått. Vännerna omkring mig tycktes också med ens matta och gråa. Själv kände jag mig lite apatisk och nedstämd. Så en dag, just vid den här tiden på året, uppenbarade sig i laboratoriets mörker en otroligt vacker flicka, klädd i ett spökes vita dräkt, med långt gyllene hår och på huvudet bar hon en krona med brinnande ljus. Hon hette Brita och henne träffade jag varje dag. Men den kvällen var hon Lucia - en fe och gudinna. Hon lärde mig hur viktigt ljuset var: kunskapens ljus, fredens ljus, frihetens ljus, kärlekens ljus och det som har att göra med ömsesidig förståelse.
Jag vill gärna tro att just detta är budskapet från Ert land och från dessa storartade högtider. Tack.

English version of Swedish part
After three weeks, I spoke Swedish fluently and came to Stockholm, where I remember being admitted in the awesome presence of a young man, who was sitting in an office resembling that of a Minister of State. He was the President of the Medical Students Association. I will not name him, since he is now a famous professor and in this banquet hall tonight.

Then the war broke out, and for a number of years I lived in darkness, with the memory of the lakes, the trees and the skies of Sweden, until I returned in 1946 to spend two unforgettable years in the laboratory of Hugo Theorell.
I arrived at the end of the winter and joined, without quite understanding, in the rites of spring and of summer: lighting fires and waiting for the sun to rise on Valborgsmässoafton; dancing all night on Midsommarafton; watching the slow fractional distillation of all the colours of the spectrum as the sun came down over the shimmering waters in the Skärgård.

Later the days became shorter, the nights interminable, the light grey and dim. Like all my friends around me, I felt a little lethargic and depressed, until one day at just about this time of the year, in the darkness of the laboratory, I saw an extraordinary apparition: an unbelievably beautiful girl, in a ghostly white gown, with long golden hair, and on her head a crown of glowing candles. Her name was Brita and I saw her everyday. But that night she was Lucia, a magician and a goddess. And she told me the importance of light: The light of knowledge, the light of peace, the light of freedom, the light of love and of mutual understanding.

This, I believe, is the message of your country and of these
marvellous celebrations. Thank you.

My Swedish Fix

Half the furniture in my house comes from IKEA. I love the look of Swedish country pine furniture, even if it doesn't come from Sweden any more, and I like the clever gadgets they come up with. I first shopped in an IKEA south of Stockholm, when I was subletting a sparse one room flat in the city. I bought some kitchen things and, of course, a bookshelf, because I can't live anywhere very long without accumulating books. I gave those things away, including some of the books, when I moved back to the states the following summer, but I was hooked on IKEA. My sister kept sending me the yearly catalogs, which I savored and sniffed (this sounds really weird, but I swear the inks used in catalogs in Sweden smell different.)

When I moved to the Seattle area, I made a couple of trips to Richmond, B.C, specially to shop at the IKEA there. The first time, I needed some bookcases (again!) and borrowed my brother's Volvo wagon to drive up there on a Sunday morning. I got there when they opened, shopped around the store, ate in the restaurant, and bought two Billy bookcases and assorted other things. The boxes were put on a cart at the checkout, and I wheeled it out to the car. Then, the problem: how to get those long, awkward, heavy boxes off the cart and into the car. I struggled for quite awhile by myself, but just couldn't manage it. I noticed that a young couple seemed to be waiting for my parking space, as the lot was full by then. So I went over to them, and asked the guy, do you want to park here? He said yes. Well, I said, if you help me get these boxes in my car, then I can leave and you can have it. He looked pretty shocked that I was asking a stranger for help, but he did it. When I got home, I figured how to get them inside by opening the boxes in the car and moving it piece by piece.

So when they opened a store south of Seattle 10+ years ago, I was thrilled. Much closer, and no border (and customs) crossings to worry about. I went yesterday to get a kitchen drawer unit to use as a cutting table in my sewing room, and to look at the Christmas decorations. I like how they decorate the little room mockups for the holidays. I also got some Druvan Swedish mustard as I'm running low. (Never tried that brand, hope it's as good as Slotts). Now they have people to help load heavy boxes in your car, so you don't have to rely on the kindness of strangers.

Cruising to Vätö

Last year at this time I was in Sweden, for my sister Ann's anniversary and Midsommar. Most of the family made the trip as we did for the wedding 20 years before. We spent most of the time on Vätö, an island in the archipelago near Norrtälje. This is where Ketil's father grew up, where they got married and where Ketil and Ann now have a summer house. The day before Midsommar, we took busses and the subway (tunnelbana) into downtown Stockholm, toured Gamla Stan (the oldest part of the city), and then boarded the S/S Blidösund to cruise back to Vätö. This is an old steamboat that travels its traditional route through the archipelago to Norrtälje, delivering passengers and goods to many small islands previously with no other transportation. It takes about 5 hours to get to Vätö, which is the next to last stop.

The main street in Gamla Stan is narrow and crowded with tourists.


The Blidösund ties up below the Royal Palace to take on passengers.

A fort guarding the harbor at Vaxholm.

Dinner on board in the main salon.

In the Swedish summer night, we finally arrive.