The Nobel Laureates and the Vikings

Wouldn't that be a funny sitcom? With the scientists working for years on delicate, earth-shattering experiments, only to have their roommates the Vikings smash and pillage them while the scientists took a bathroom break. I would watch. But I'm more talking about the cities that are closely associated with each of these rather disparate groups, in particular Stockholm and Oslo, respectively.

Stockholm, Sweden. It is, until I get to Athens, the farthest east of Montana that I have ever been. Until I got to Oslo, it was the farthest north I've ever been. But cartographical dithering aside, the city is amazing. No one bothered to mention that Stockholm is built on islands, and so it was a surprise when I woke up in the morning (I got in at two in the morning and so didn't get an immediately dramatic first impression) and found that I had to use bridges in order to get anywhere else. Which was fine with me, because I am of the opinion that there is nothing more aesthetically appealing than water, even when it's frozen.

Walking around Stockholm in the early morning, when very few other people were out and there were no cars to speak of, I was struck by how absolutely silent the city seemed. It's a big place, but the snow falling softly was the only sound, or lack of it, apparent from my vantage point on a walking trail overlooking the frozen river.

It is here that I adopted my current strategy for each new city I visit: walk. A lot. I don't think that there's a better way to acquaint yourself with the dimensions and personality of a city than to walk around in it, observe the people and get your feet wet. In this case, quite literally. One thing I did notice about Scandinavia: it snows there. And for this statement being rather a 'duh' one, the cities of Stockholm and Oslo were both pretty ill-prepared when it came to clearing roads and walkways. Or maybe those Northern people have just had to suck it up... walk uphill both ways, barefoot in three feet of snow, that sort of thing. Maybe I'm a weenie. But my clothing was absolutely soaked by the end of the day.

Stockholm has the feeling of a city who knows who it is. I've noticed that there are certain places in this world which seem to be having identity crises of some description, and feel uncomfortable in their eclecticism, stylistically and culturally. Stockholm is very modern in some parts, with neon clocks and wide boulevards with Swarovski stores, etc., and in some parts reminded me very much of Trastevere, with little twisting streets that open to reveal cozy piazzas. But neither extreme feels... well... extreme. The separation of each portion of the city onto islands certainly helps in making each section feel unique, but it doesn't feel like you're commuting when you cross a bridge.

Culturally, too, it embraces its Swedish-ness while at the same time making ample room for the requisite kebab stands and crappy Chinese food places, while also reveling in some of the most interesting looking international cuisine that I've yet encountered. Obviously, I didn't partake of any of it, since I am poor, but it looked cool, and creative. Of course, Stockholm needs to be appealing to the higher-end tastes, given its notoriety as the city where certain medals and money are bestowed upon a whole bunch of people that no one has ever heard of, but who change the world in tiny and profound ways in their specific fields, and one person who the entire world knows. Inevitably, we all know who won the Nobel Peace Prize each year, but can you name the guy who won the prize in economics? Yeah, me neither.

In spite of its international reputation, Stockholm still manages to be very, very Swedish. It's in the layout of the city, in the furniture in the stores and restaurants, and in the very tall, blonde inhabitants walking around. The thing that stuck me most about the city was the truth contained in that one little phrase "Swedish design". Everything in the interiors of Stockholm looks like a Volvo. It's those curved, sleek lines folded over each other like... I don't know... bronchiole folds or something. Accordions. It's the very odd colors and the burnished metal that make you think of what the Bradys' house would look like if they lived in 2015. I'm not sure how much I like Swedish design... but they're nothing if not consistent.

There was one area in which I found Swedish design sensibilities to be most intriguing, and that was in the National Gallery in Stockholm. Not being particularly interested in museum theory, I'm probably not the best person to talk about this, but I found it very interesting to walk through the galleries and see some of the concepts at play there. One gallery in particular was comprised of marble statues placed around a fairly innocuous room, but the interesting part was the lighting. Your basic flourescent bulbs being winched up and down and dimmed and brightened, seemingly at random, to create different lighting effects on the statues. It was very interesting to watch, and raised some good questions about presentation and the ways in which it influences conception. So I have to give the Swedish credit for that.

The journey across Sweden to Norway looked exactly like you want that journey to look. Huge expanses of white, white openness punctuated occassionally by dark black forests of pine trees. I really enjoy it when things look like they're supposed to, so it made me happy to just gaze out the window and think about what it would be like to live here. The answer I came up with: cold and dark. I don't know if I'd be willing to trade the sun for beautiful alpine landscapes and the opportunity to ski anywhere I needed to go. I really like the sun.

Oslo is totally different from Stockholm. Stockholm feels big, even if it's quiet, whereas Oslo is very loud and small. It's situated beside a fjord (!) and feels a little bit like Chicago in that respect. But it's still very different from a lot of other cities I've been to, especially lately. I walked around a lot here, too, and discovered a surprising difference that raised my eyebrows, even considering my background.

There are houses in Oslo. Like, single-family dwellings with yards that aren't attached to other people's houses. They have play sets and garages and mailboxes on the street. I can honestly say that I haven't seen that since I left the States. Most of the places I've been have been cities, which typically connotes apartment-style living. I literally just skipped (or sloshed, since Oslo and Stockholm seem to have the same sidewalk cleaning regimen) around, creepily looking into people's windows and remembering what it must be like to be able to sing show tunes as loud as you want while doing the dishes and not have your neighbors bang on the windows and tell you to shut the heck up. In Italian. So you might say Oslo, while being so very far away from home, also brought me a bit closer to the style of living that I grew up with than I have been in quite some time. Excluding the time we spent on the Burren. But I don't count that, because it felt to surreal to be at all mundane.

I initially intended to spend only one night in Oslo, at this hostel right on the main shopping street which is run by the Norwegian military. Up to that point, I had always expected hostels to be a little sketchy... the kind of places where it might not be a bad idea to wear shoes at all times. Even in bed. This place, however, was palatial. I got a shower in the room that I got to myself, since most people don't choose to visit Norway in January. I took full advantage of this shower. Showers are awesome. They're another thing that you should really feel grateful for when you have unhindered access to a clean one.

I say that I only planned to spend one night in Oslo, planning on taking the ferry to Denmark the next night. Well, my travel un-luck, which has been relatively dormant for quite awhile, reared its head this time. The ferry was in dock, only for that night. So I decided that it would just be easier to spend one more night at the hostel (I wasn't at all sad about this) and get the train the next day. So that is what I did. Oslo was an excellent experience, as was Stockholm, and they're two of those places that it's always kinda fun to say that you've been. Norway and Sweden are a long way away from everything else, and so having experienced them struck me as something I needed to do when the opportunity presented itself.

An observation: money is weird. Geography is weird, too. And when they merge, it's altogether catastrophic. At least for me. But remember how I've said before that I plan on looking like a complete idiot at least three times a day? Well, in Italy, where I had, by the end, gotten a fairly good handle on what to expect from life, that number went down to maybe once a day. There were a few times where I made it safely back to my apartment for the night without having embarassed myself for a full sixteen hours. Well, put me in a country where I don't even know what alphabet they're using, and add money that makes no sense to anyone raised in sane places where you don't spend 300 something for a hamburger, that number goes up astronomically. I've pretty much moved to doofus-ville.

Kroners would be fine with me. If they weren't different in each country. Sweden uses currency called the kroner. Norway uses currency called the kroner. Was it so weird to think that they'd be the same? They're not. The girl at the hostel didn't even know what the Swedish money was when I handed it to her. Stockholm is four hours away! It only makes me even more convinced (from a purely lazy standpoint, not an economic one) that the entire world should be on the Euro. When countries which lie about an afternoon's leisurely drive (by Montana standards) apart are using the same name for their totally different currency, it makes things difficult. It makes me look like an idiot. And life would be so much easier if I didn't have to starve myself for two days because I was sure as hell not going to spend 200 kroner for a sandwich. On second thought... maybe we should all use the kroner. It would sure cut down on our need for gym memberships.

Coming next week (or whenever I get around to it): Nothing is rotten, as far as I can tell, in the state of Denmark, but there's a pretty rotten smell coming out of the coffee shops in Amsterdam.