"The Men Here Are Gorgeous"

Sweden(July, 1997)

Summer is the time of year to escape New York, and the summer of 1997 had the many hot and humid days that I wilt under. Luckily though, not every single day was unbearable. Also it was a particularly difficult time for me physically and emotionally.A nasty depression had fallen on me in the winter, for several uncontrollable reasons. I'd only started to take one of those wonder-drugs that was an anti-depressant (and I hoped would kick in very soon.) It was the worst depression I'd ever experienced, and for ironic (or perhaps strangely adventurous) reasons, I thought just what I needed was a vacation in the place Americans are convinced is the suicide capital of the world: Sweden.

Well, at least it would be cool there, I reasoned. After a week of trying to find an airfare under $1100, I gave up and booked a combo air and hotel package that was about $1400 and would give me a week in a classy hotel right in the center of Stockholm. I'd fly on SAS, which is a high quality and dependable airline, and once I got out of the third world atmosphere of Newark Airport, the vacation could begin. The flight was calm and the time sped by...were the anti-depressants beginning to work? I felt very good, actually, except for a constant state of drowsiness.

We arrived about an hour early, which was fantastic to me. The Stockholm airport is in Arlanda, about 30 miles north of the city. It was sparkling new and extremely efficient. I had my bags, my Swedish crowns, and my ticket for the airport bus in less than half an hour. I was going to be arriving at my hotel very early in the day, but hopefully that wouldn't be a problem for the hotel staff.

As soon as I walked out of the terminal, I immediately noticed it was quite WARM. The bus was actually very hot, although it was the latest model and very plush. Once we got moving it turned out it had air-conditioning, so I was comfortable.It's global warming I guess, when even Sweden needs air-conditioning.

The landscape was mostly flat and but with many trees, lots of birch and pine. The road was extremely well maintained, and the traffic wasn't heavy, mostly late-model and expensive-looking cars. Lots of Volvos and Saabs of course, perhaps a third of the vehicles, and practically no old jalopies that looked like they needed some paint. We passed several suburban developments that were similar to the car-oriented suburbs back home: that is, it was obvious people who lived there used cars to get to work, shop, etc. Most of the housing consisted of plain-looking apartment blocks, but they all looked like they were of very high-quality construction. There was none of the honky-tonk cheap atmosphere of American suburbia, but that would have been a surprise to me. It was suburbia, but of the most prosperous type.

Suddenly, we were in Stockholm. Right in the center! The northern part of the city center begins after passing through a greenbelt, and then 5 and 6 story buildings dating mostly from the late nineteenth century begin: solid looking and elegant, painted mostly in pastels or ochre. I was here already!

My first impression of Stockholm as we headed toward the bus terminal was that it is an incredibly beautiful city, with the healthiest trees and greenery I've ever seen in an urban environment, and then I noticed the people! They were as beautiful as the environment they lived in! It wasn't just that they were by and large fair and blonde, tall and fit. They had healthy complexions and dressed in impossibly neat clothes. This during a "Swedish heatwave"! I felt lumpy and dumpy after a transatlantic flight, a bit pasty and far too chubby as a representative New Yorker and an American...but fortunately I have a tendency to "blend in" wherever I go (although I haven't yet been to Marrakesh or Beijing...), So I didn't feel too conspicuous.

The taxi driver complained about the heatwave, and I could feel it must've been pushing 80. There wasn't any choking traffic as we passed right through the city center, right by the Kulturhuset (one of the landmarks I was most interested in seeing), and down several shopping streets. But quite a few Stockholmers take time off in July and August and move house to their summer cottages. The peak vacation time wouldn't be until August, but the city wasn't nearly as crowded as it would be the rest of the year.

We pulled up in front of a beautiful old art-nouveau style hotel which actually was owned by the Best Western chain. It had nearly been demolished for some crazy reason, but in the early nineties it was completely renovated. I was a bit surprised I could afford to stay there from the look of it! But it was part of package, and it was a bargain.

The extremely handsome hotel clerk welcomed me with a polite charm, like he expected me to turn up so early in the morning. He had a room waiting for me and I could go right up, no problem, and said I could go to the breakfast buffet. So I did, right after dropping my bags in my room. My room faced the street and a beautiful park right across the road. I had huge windows that opened inward to give me a wonderful view of the Royal Library in the middle of the park. The room faced a busy street, but the predominantly Volvo and Saab cars almost never honked, I soon discovered.

After a huge buffet breakfast, I took a bubblebath and got into some fresh clothes. My wrinkled khakis wouldn't match the carefully ironed Swedes, but that was OK. I was rather tired, but as always on the first day of a foreign vacation, I was so excited to be out of the US, that the jetlag didn't stand a chance. Before long I was out on the street.

It was hot!

I walked toward the Hotorgscity, a big complex of office towers right in the city center, which was built in the late fifties. At the time it was considered extremely modern, all glass and steel, but even then quite a few people thought the buildings were very ugly. The city's architects took the hint it seems. Although many beautiful old buildings were demolished in the decade that followed, they weren't replaced with tower blocks. Anyway, I passed along Kungsgatan to get to Hotorgscity. Kungsgatan was an earlier office and commercial building project, built in the 20s. It's a lot more serious looking than what came later, and has aged well. The street curves in an arc with two heavy tower blocks at one end. It actually has a lot of character, although it somehow was reminiscent of Karl Marx Allee in east Berlin.

Soon I was in the pedestrian zone in the Hotorgscity. It's the discount shopping street nowadays, and looks downmarket. I guess the buildings haven't aged well, and they were never elegant to start with. Was I disappointed after seeing this complex in vivid color in all those pictures in books I have or had borrowed from the library since I was a kid? Well, not really. It still represented Stockholm, and was close enough to the pictures I'd seen that I felt, "yep, I'm here."

Down an escalator I was in a semi-underground plaza that was a beehive of activity. Tunnels led to the big department stores: NK and Ahlens, and this was the entrance to the main subway station: T-Centralen. At the southern end of the plaza is the Kulturhuset. This was a place I was really anxious to explore. It's the central house of culture in Stockholm, and it's literally central. It looks like a huge glass ship from the outside, although I immediately noticed that all along the lower level there were boards covering the glass. At the entrance, I learned why. Almost everything in the center was closed because of renovations! "Damnation!",I practically said out loud. The sign said the center would reopen on New Year's Eve with a big party! Well, parts of the lower level WERE open, so I took a look inside. I was disappointed but not crushed not to be able to explore the whole building. I at least was inside this "cathedral of culture", and the parts I could see pleased me: a children's library, a cultural activities info center, and a store selling Swedish designed products. I knew from photos and floorplans I'd hunted down what was in the rest of the building, but I just wouldn't be able to see every nook and cranny.

Still, the Kulturhuset symbolizes the essence of modern Stockholm to me. The central building in the main square of the city is a cultural center, open to all (when it was open...), providing a huge variety of cultural activities in a democratic and unintimidating way. All part of the Swedish Model that I'm a huge fan of: a social-democratic society, free, prosperous, cultured, egalitarian and YES, hugely expensive.

The Swedes know what they're doing. Over and over they've voted the Social Democratic party into office since the 30s, knowing full well that their taxes would be high. They also know that the kind of society the Social Democrats have built is the envy of the world. Even Americans, some of who've been the harshest critics of the Swedish Model seem to be motivated by envy. Its success has given the propagandists for the "American Way of Life" fits. They're still at it, gleefully reporting any problem Sweden experiences....but in 1998,once again Swedish voters re-elected the Social Democrats allied with the even more leftist Greens and reformed communists.This was in spite (or because of?)dire warnings from "experts" (mostly Anglo-American) that social democracy Swedish- style was over and done with, as outdated as Soviet style communism. It was quite a shock in free-market circles abroad when Sweden didn't follow orders.

The next week would provide many more examples to me of the success of Swedish social democracy, with only a few things giving me pause. Standing in front of the Kulturhuset for the first time was one of those "Tony moments": I felt at peace with myself and the world around me. You could say I was happy...

I wandered through the shopping area some, went down into the T-bana station, and decided to take a train just a few stations over to the Katarinahissen, just beyond Gamla Stan, the "old town" of Stockholm. I planned to walk back to the city center and see many of the sights along the way.

Katarinahissen is an elevator tower. It connects at the top to a bridge and plaza with a restaurant/cafe overlooking the city center. It's only about 125 feet or so up, but the view is still very impressive, because the view is of such a beautiful city. The tower is part of the KF building. KF stands for Kooperativa Forbundet(Co-Op Society). It runs a huge network of shops and supermarkets, wholesalers, and manufacturers that are part of everyday life in Sweden. These structures are examples of the most modern building style of the thirties: reinforced concrete and large plateglass windows, with an emphasis on technology--the elevator in a sort of "bell tower" separate from the main building. The groundfloor has a Konsum supermarket, and to my surprise: McDonalds!

Gamla Stan is an island on its own, with beautifully cared for rowhouses along twisting narrow lanes, and the most expensive shops and apartments in the city (my doctor back in NY lived there in the 60s). It really didn't take long to walk back to the city center. I went into the huge supermarket in the basement of the Ahlens department store and bought a few necessities: cola and chips. I bought some perfectly ripe tomatoes in the open air market in front of the Konserthuset and headed back to my hotel for a rest. I was rather tired after all, since I hadn't slept since I left NY.

I saw I had a message when I got to the hotel. I had written the friend of a friend who lives in Stockholm: Goran. I was hoping to get together with him at some point during my stay, so I could at least try to get to know a native. I was pleased to see he had called, but I needed a little shut-eye before I called him back. So I napped for a few hours, waking up at about 6 pm.

Goran was home when I called and he was very enthusiastic about meeting as soon as possible. He invited me to join his friends to go to Uppsala the next day. I said yes, because I planned to go there anyway sometime during my stay. So Goran said he'd call me in the morning. I went out to get a bite to eat, at a Mexican taco restaurant not far from my hotel. Thank God for immigrants! They've given just about every country in the world better eating-out possibilities! And more than 10% of the population these days in Sweden is non-Swedish. They've had a very open immigration policy since the 60s, although not quite as many have been allowed in recent years. But people from all over the third world have come as refugees to Sweden, and they've made the bigger cities at least, extremely cosmopolitan, and full of good food.

While I ate, I watched Swedish TV, specifically the evening news program. I don't know Swedish, but I love to hear it spoken. It's full of vowels and diphthongs, and is practically sung instead of spoken. It's definitely the most mellifluous of the Germanic languages, sounding much more like Italian than say--German, which can sound very harsh indeed...or Danish, which sounds like people burping.

After dinner I went out for another walk. It had cooled off and was very pleasant. I went back to the Katarinahissen via another route, and sat up in the cafe terrace until well after 10. It was still light out of course, because at this lattitude in July, there really isn't complete darkness, as I would find out when I went to bed that night a little before midnight. There was a sort of dusk, and the streetlights come on, but people were still sitting in the park opposite my hotel, and young people still rollerbladed and bicycled by. It was wonderful. How the Swedes love their summer...

Sometime after 3 in the morning, the sun came up again, and I got up to go to the loo. I looked out the window, and it was already daylight, but perfectly calm. The parksitters had gone, and there wasn't any traffic, just the beautiful greenery in the park, and the elegant buildings of Stockholm.

On vacation, I get up rather early usually, because I'm so excited to be someplace new or different, that I want to be out exploring as much as I can. So, I was up by 8am, and went down to the huge and delicious spread in the breakfast room. I swiped a few of the still warm breadrolls for a snack later in the day. Fresh bread isn't a thing of the past in Europe, along with coffee that tastes good, and trains that roll into your town more than three times a week (if at all like in most places back home.)

I wouldn't meet Goran until noon, and he said he'd call before he left his apartment. So I could explore some more in the morning. I walked up Sveavagen to look at the Stadsbiblioteket, the main branch of the city library. It's a squarish building with a large circular part on top (not a dome, but impressive like a dome). It's set in one of Stockholm's many, many parks, luxuriantly green with enormous mature trees. Along the street there are shops, with one of Stockholm's dozens of McDonalds. In spite of their Social Democratic politics, Swedes are as up-to-date and as integrated into Western fads and fashions as anywhere else. I'd already seen attempts to mimic rap songs (in Swedish) on tv that made me cringe, and the number of cell-phones in people's hands was staggering. And McDonalds is convenient and cheap and hasn't seemed to ruin Swedish complexions or figures yet...I went into this branch because the library wouldn't be open until 10 am, and had an early morning cola. All the clerks were fresh-faced and friendly. Nearly every shop-clerk I'd come across looked like they just had stepped out of an expensive clothing catalogue, and they always cheerfully greeted me with a "hej", which just means "hi". When I would ask something in English, their gears would shift immediately into their practically fluent English, and whatever I wanted would be handed over without any fuss or attitude. I loved it, I can't deny it. Shopping without any complications, by people who didn't resent their jobs or having to help me. The lack of that is more a New York thing than an overall US problem, although the rest of the country seems to be developing an overall bad attitude about service that makes shopping on the web seem like something that is to be welcomed.

Well, I wasn't fretting over any problems socially or personally back home as I sipped my cola. I can enjoy the moment as much as anyone, and I was really enjoying Sweden. I poked around in the library for over an hour. It's an impressive library, but the building is old-fashioned, and cramped for space. After leaving the library, I walked down Sveavagen, one of the busiest commercial streets in the city center. It has broad sidewalks and lots of shade trees. It was a fifteen or twenty minute walk back to the Hotorgscity, and along the way, I came across Huset, the main building for Sweden's gay organization. I made a mental note to come back for a look later in the week. I headed back to the hotel to wait for Goran's call.

A little after 11, he called to say that Uppsala was off because his friends were going back to Gothenborg a day early, and they were having trouble with their car anyway. Perhaps his friends had the oldest car in Sweden...He himself could meet me at my hotel at noon and we could look around the city.

He arrived right at noon, and I went down to the reception area to see a very tall Goran chatting with that goodlooking hotel clerk, who Goran told me was named Joachim. So Goran was eager to show me his city and a little nervous about his English, although it was excellent.He wanted all the gossip about our mutual friend, who he hadn't seen in a long time. Our first stop was to get some lunch, and Goran took me to a large food court right on the Hotorget, the main market next to the Konserthuset. It was a large cafeteria style set-up, lined with about 20 different restaurants, with all kinds of food from all around the world, with local specialties too. This became my primary meal center the rest of my trip. I could have different food every meal and it would be cheap, too.

After lunch, Goran suggested a visit to the Stockholm City Hall. I was eager to see this myself. It's known as one of the most beautiful in the world. We went to the tourist office and Goran had a question for them. Another extremely handsome young man helped Goran. He had such a lilting Swedish accent. I couldn't take my eyes off him and could've listened to his voice the rest of the day.This was happening at every turn in Stockholm.....goodlooking and charming people were a dime a dozen in this city.

The city hall tour was just great. We went all over the building, which truly is beautiful inside and out. Goran proposed we climb the tower, which I couldn't do. I knew I would get much too tired because of the medicine I was taking. I think saying no disappointed Goran, who had a childlike enthusiasm for his city, and who was personally concerned that I see as much of it as possible.

I asked him if we could go to a cafe for a bit, so we sat in Gamla Stan for a while. Then Goran showed me parts of the old town that I wouldn't know to look for--through back alleys into small hidden squares with cafes and boutiques. It was extremely sunny, and I had forgotten my sunglasses, so I told Goran I would need to go to my hotel to get them. That worked for Goran, even if by now I think he was beginning to think I was rather odd person, but he said he could run some errands, and we could meet later in the evening to go to a gay pub not far from where he lived. That would be fine with me. I could rest a bit before I met up with him later.

So after a short nap, I went out for dinner and then walked over to the Katarinahissen to meet Goran. He was with a friend whose name I can't recall unfortunately, and who only knew a little English. He used his limited knowledge to the fullest though, and we were able to chat in the extremely crowded but relaxed bar. Goran's friend was incredibly sweet-natured, a very sensitive person.

We stayed a long time at the bar, longer than I would usually stay because it was so noisy and smoky. But it was comfortable and friendly, and I liked that. When we left it was going on midnight, but it was only just a little dark. We walked up to Goran's neighborhood, through a neighborhood of wooden nineteenth century workmen's houses, and then into a brand new enormous apartment complex designed by the Spanish architect Ricardo Bofill. Very grand, and hated by some Stockholmers for being TOO full of marble and colonnades. This emptied into a big square with a local townhall on one side and a big shopping center next to it. The square itself was filled with terrace cafes and packed with Stockholmers enjoying a late evening in the twilight(midnight!). It was as the Dutch say: gezellig! We just don't have the concept is English in America. It was "la dolce vita" Swedish style. Goran recommended a further walk, but I was very tired. The medicine I was taking was definitely helping my mood (as was this trip), but it's main side-effect was constant fatigue. Goran's friend parted like we'd been friends for a long time, but I didn't see him again. Goran told me he left the next day to go back to Gothenburg. He'd never actually met an American in person(!), and had been very eager to experience that.

I was so tired I slept quite well, and next day made an early start again. My plan was to get to know the Stockholm subway intimately that day. So I bought a day ticket, and my plan was to go all the way to the south of the city to see the planned suburb from the fifties called Farsta, and then to go all the way to the other end of the line to the planned suburb called Vallingby.

The weather continued to be warm, but not unpleasantly so, and it was clear. Beautiful weather actually. So early next morning I set out on my T-bana trek (T-bana is the Swedish name for the subway, although most of it is above ground). The trip to Farsta takes about 25 minutes from T-Centralen in the city center. The T-bana was begun in the early 1950s and has a slightly old-fashioned look, although it's spotlessly clean. The trains run very frequently, and the system is heavily used by the locals. It's extremely well planned to take people from node to node in the system. Quite a few of the neighborhoods have been planned around the stations, with local and regional shopping centers placed right on top of or next to a T-bana station.

One of the first of these regional centers was Farsta in the late fifties.(Vallingby was built a little earlier, in the mid-fifties.)The line to Farsta passed through various other neighborhoods, including one called Enskede built up mostly of single family cottages, and the famous Skogskyrkogarden (Forest Cemetery). What was most noticeable were the huge number of trees in the residential areas, and the large number of apartment towers nestled among the trees. Farsta is a big complex with a large shopping center. At one time it was state of the art urban planning, but now it seems a bit outdated. Still, it works. The T-bana station connects right to the pedestrian only shopping area. Everything for everyday needs is right there, along with services like a clinic, library, and community center. There are a couple of tower blocks that probably didn't need to be quite so big, but a lot of Farsta is on the human scale, and pine and birch trees are everywhere. After a look around, it was back on the train, for a ride out to Vallingby. This would take about an hour.

The baby boom after the end of World War II created a huge demand for housing in Sweden (as well as elsewhere.) Sweden was by and large built the housing through government-sponsored programs, and the emphasis was definitely to build apartments instead of single family houses (quite the opposite of the US). This made it a LOT easier to plan and build infrastructure, as well as being cheaper, and also easier to promote community-oriented lifestyles instead of American atomized suburbia. There were some BIG mistakes in the 60s and early 70s, with some really unpopular housing complexes being built, but the first big postwar complex was Vallingby. It was quite modern for its time. The T-bana station is under a huge platform which has the shopping center and community services, surrounded by satellite residental districts within easy walking distance of the station. It was wildly popular when it opened, but nowadays it's mostly "empty-nesters" who live there, many of them pensioners who were just starting families in the wilds of Vallingby 40 years ago.

The concept of building these planned communities was part of the overall policy of the Social Democrats to build what was called the "Folkhemmet", the "People's Home". All of Sweden would be developed as though it was one big family in one big house. That meant that you don't leave anybody out and you take care of everyone's needs. In practical terms this meant a true cradle-to-the-grave welfare state. Services were provided to everyone not because they were poor, but because they were human. So a pregnant mother would be provided with excellent prenatal care, be given extremely generous maternity leave (and nowadays, paternity leave for the papas), a place in a day care center and kindergarten for the child when the parents return to work, excellent free education through university, extremely generous vacations for all workers,unemployment insurance and jobtraining programs if one loses a job,lifelong free medical care, state provided pensions that provide a moderate living standard in old-age, and even money to pay for a funeral and burial. Basically, poverty has been eliminated in Sweden. Some people are more middle-class than others, but no one in Sweden lives in misery, except for a small number of alcoholics and drug addicts who can't really take care of themselves and haven't gone to the social service agencies.

Vallingby symbolized the People's Home: a modern efficient society that offers the Good Life for everyone.The policy has been a huge success, and Swedes are very happy with the society they've built. That doesn't mean of course that everyone in Sweden is happy. It's true though that once all these social ills are gone,as some people say, you are confronted with what life is really about...and many people simply can't deal with that, and lots of problems result.

One of the problems has been suicide(just like in other modern societies). In the fifties, Eisenhower obliquely mentioned in a speech that a "certain ally" had an extremely high suicide rate because the state was involved in every aspect of life....or so he maintained. Everyone knew he was talking about Sweden, and this became part of the average American's image of Sweden(for many, the only thing they knew about the place, other than it also was "sex crazy"). And it's true that Sweden has a higher suicide rate than the US, then as now. But it's not the highest in the world now, nor was it then.It's usually ranked just a few notches higher than the US. Countries like Hungary, Czechoslovakia, and even France have had MUCH higher rates. Still, the mythology of US propaganda is part of "reality" about Sweden now. No amount of reasoning seems to make it go away.Not that Swedes care very much about this. It's just always bugged me though, how in a free society, public opinion can be so easily molded and manipulated. Besides, a country's homicide statistics say a LOT more about the true nature of a society than how many people end their own lives. In that regard, the US stands condemned as the most violent by far of any industrialized country in the world.

Swedes probably DO get more depressed than many other peoples. And they most often become alcoholics as a result. They have a melancholic side that is part of a rather manic national personality. They can be wildly enthusiastic and then become inconsolably glum. I saw some of that even during this beautiful summer weather, although it's much more of a problem in the cold, dark winter.

Fortunately, the medicine I was taking was helping my own depression lift. I felt really good about that, because I was a little worried that my own Scandinavian mindset and background(OK, my ancestors left a 1000 yers ago!) might turn on me in Sweden. But not at all. The weather was beautiful, the people were nice, and I was on a big adventure.

After my long subway trip, I had lunch at the mega food court Goran showed me, and then spent several productive hours in a large second-hand bookstore called the "Alfa". It was part of the fun to bother the devastatingly handsome clerks who were more than pleased to help me hunt down things. When I got back to the hotel, I wrote my postcards. To one friend in NY, I simply started with the exclamation: "The men here are gorgeous!"

It had already become my "custom" to go for a walk after I looked at the evening news. Stockholm was very lively in the evenings, since of course it was still light until so late. This night I walked along the rim of Gamla San and over past the Opera House. As it grew later, the buildings took on reddish and golden hues. I had never really seen this sort of "nighttime" before. It was very vivid and memorable.

The next day I went over to Sodermalm to meet Goran once again. He was going to show me his neighborhood and his apartment. Right before I met him,I took a look at the big shopping center on one side of Medborgarplatsen. It was all marble and glass inside with waterfalls and indoor gardens, with a large gourmet-style supermarket on one level that outdid Balducci's or Zabar's in New York. Goran later told me that this was Stockholm's most "working class" neighborhood, although I think what we know as "gentrification" was taking place too. I'd never seen a such luxurious "working-class" shopping center.

Goran took me to his flat, which is in a building built sometime in the sixties, a sort of in-fill project on a street of much older buildings. He shares a bright and airy two bedroom apartment with a friend from his hometown, Ludvika. It was very nice and very comfortable: "homey" as we would say back in Kentucky. Goran made a lunch for us of curried chicken, and afterwards we sat in his cosy living room while Goran played representative songs about summer.I had read that the Swedes love to sing, and they love their summers, so of course they have a lot of songs about this time of year: many, many traditional folksongs, and just as many poptunes. Goran lounged on his sofa and got a very faraway and happy look on his face as he sang along with these tunes. A typically Swedish moment, I think.

It had been a little rainy and windy when I arrived to meet Goran, but now it was clearer out, so we went for a long walk around Soder. We went to a lovely old church that was circular in shape, painted yellow and white. Goran said it keeps burning down, but it's restored to it original beauty each time. Around it are very pleasant and very old little wooden cottages. These were once workmen's cottages, but are now rented to artists, writers etc. It's the atmosphere of a small village actually, up on a hill.

As we walked along a promenade overlooking the city center, Goran and I had a long conversation about American views of Sweden, and about my personal image of Sweden. He in turn knew the historical details of all the places we were seeing, and I learned a lot. We delved further into Gamla Stan, but I got a bit tired. I suggested we sit for a while. Since I was so tired and I could feel a depression coming on, I excused myself from a tour of the Royal Palace, and headed back to my hotel. This clear disappointed Goran, who wanted me to experience everything wonderful about his city, but I was rather upset,and fell into a bit of "grubbla", the Swedish word for brooding. As I wandered back to my hotel, I actually began to feel a bit better. Finally,my medicine was doing its work. Any sort of emotional disppointment in the last few months had led to true bouts of depression, but I was not doing so badly for once.

I didn't see Goran again. I called him the next day because he had proposed going to a disco, but when we spoke, he told me he couldn't go after all. He probably had tired of this rather eccentric American. This wasn't really a disappointment on any level. I'd really enjoyed having Goran show me a little of his city from his perspective. That was great, and I thanked him for his time. But that was it. I was on my own, which is my natural habitat.

After a relaxing bubble-bath at the hotel, I decided to take a look at the Stockholm university district. It's a quite modern complex in a grove of birch and pine trees, just to the north of the city center. There weren't many students around since it was summer, but the campus was beautiful, which it isn't always possible to say when all the buildings are very modern.

I also went to the Gardet section on the way back and made the rather long walk back to my hotel. Gardet was built in the thirties, and is a large, beautifully landscaped complex of apartment houses,an early example of Modernist styles of architecture, which the Swedes call functionalism. Not far from my hotel I spied a big second-hand bookstore, but since it was already early evening, it was closed. But I made a note to come back.

Early the next morning I walked over to the Central Station to go to Uppsala. This is one of Sweden's university towns, and it's about 45 minutes by train from Stockholm. The train station is a bit gray and brooding, one of the least cosy spots I'd seen so far in Stockholm. There was a huge line at the ticket window, but this was because everyone waited on one line for thir number to be called. This was typical of egalitarian Sweden. With this system, you wouldn't get on a line that ends up going too slowly. "We're all in this together" is the idea. Fortunately, there were a lot of clerks selling tickets, so it didn't take long.

Swedish trains run on a gauge a bit wider than American trains, so the coach are large and roomy. The train wasn't very crowded, and the trip was not particularly scenic. Pleasant, but not gorgeous. Soon enough we arrived in Uppsala.

There are two landmarks in Uppsala: the enormous Cathedral, and the castle overlooking the town. Well there is also the university, which has a lot of impressive buildings. The walk from the station to the university area passes through the city center. It's lively and pleasant. I had lunch at a fish and chips place right on the main square, packed with young people. I walked up the main pedestrian shopping street and looked at the local public library. And then I crossed a very narrow river that divides the university district from the city center. The river was really just a brook, but it was very scenic, with trees all along the embankments, and small pretty bridges.

The cathedral is enormous, but more impressive from the outside if you ask me. I didn't bother with the castle, since what's left of it is just the front and one side. It's almost like it's a movie set. I had a list of half a dozen second-hand bookshops, so the rest of the afternoon was spent hunting down each address and browsing to my heart's content.The walks from store to store was city tour all its own. The last one I visited held a treasure I'd been looking for for years: a handbook about Iceland that I must've borrowed fifty times from the public library in high school. It was very expensive, or so I thought. The front of the book had a price of 185 kronor written in it, about $25.00--a bit much, but then I wanted this book!But the (cute)bookstore clerk said the price of each book was on the back page. That price was just 65 kronor. I didn't quibble!

When I returned to Stockholm, my evening walk included a stroll through the grand Kungstradgarden. This is lined with trees, various cafes and restaurants, and plenty of benches to watch the passing scene. Which I did for a long while, as I listened to lovely string music coming from one of the restaurants.

On my last full day in Stockholm, I planned to go to that big bookstore near my hotel, and to go to Skansen, Stockholm's unique park filled with numerous museums, an amusement park, an open-air folklore museum, a zoo and all sorts of other attractions. I found a couple of interesting books at the bookshop, including an architectural guide to Stockholm. I walked over to Norrmalmstorg to take the special antique tram to Skansen. This is the only tramline left inside the city itself. The tramcars are a nice pastel blue. It was a quick but fun ride to Skansen. Like all Stockholm parks it had the lushest greenery I've ever come across, with enormous majestic trees. I took the tram deep into the park and decided to walk back toward the city. There was much too much to see, because Skansen is too big. So I thought I'd just look at the things I'd pass along the way, and go in to just a few. One of my stops was the Nordiska Museet, which is in a very impressive building, with an enormous main hall that looks like a Viking longhouse (except much bigger!). I admired the outside of the Biology Museum, which is built all of wood, like one of those stave churches found in some rural districts in Scandinavia. I went in to the Skansen open-air folklore museum, which I only saw a little of. It's enormous. It has buildings from all over Sweden, with people performing the daily chores of living from whatever period the building represents. I could've followed some of the flaxen haired farming lads around for a bit...There are live animals at some of the buildings as well. It all seems very authentically done. It wasn't kitschy at all

Kitsch is in Skansen too: at the amusement park, but I skipped that. My final fling was a tour of the Gustav Vasa ship, a sunken boat from centuries ago, refloated and restored. It's in a capsule like building that sort of floats around the ship and protects it. Except for the 3,000 children in the museum, a look at the Vasa was one of those touristy things worthwhile doing.

My final meal at the foodcourt in the Hotorget was followed by a brief look at the Huset, the gay center on Sveavagen. Gays aren't doing at all badly from the look of the Huset. It's an all-in-one sort of place, with a commercial pub and disco, a gay bookstore and cafe, plus some meeting rooms and a library. All done in an inviting and expensive looking style. It was practically empty when I went in. I think I saw 3 people there at the most, and I didn't linger.

That was pretty much it for my week in Stockholm. I picked up a few snacks on the way back to my hotel to munch on while I packed. I'd leave early the next morning to get out to the airport.

I was laden down with two heavy bags next morning because of all the books I'd bought. This is normal for me, but by far the hardest part of my trips: lugging stuff home. I dragged my stuff through the enormous (and empty)bus terminal to the gate for the airport bus. The bus was already there and I could get right on, but first I had to pass through two sets of doors to get outside. The first pair opened automatically, and then closed behinds me. But the second set didn't open. I immediately felt trapped. And this was REALLY odd for Sweden--that something didn't work properly! A full minute passed, and several other people came into the hot little glassed in room. They were confused too. Then...finally, the outer door opened, and we all practically ran out of there. I told the ticket-taker that those doors weren't functioning properly. He said they were actually, and explained that in the winter, this door set-up kept the cold-air out of the bus-terminal. Some clever planner probably thought this up, but it goes entirely against human nature. Already I could see the next round of passengers for the bus getting a little panicky in the glass-box. Thinking of everything has its bad side, too.

Still, that was one of the few annoying things I'd experienced in the Folkhemmet of Sweden. It had been such a wonderful week in such a beautiful city in a country that truly is a model. At Arlanda airport's duty-free shop, I found a compendium of Swedish summer songs. It was the perfect souvenir of my trip to Sweden. Whenever I listen to it, there are certain melodies that evoke some of the lyrical moments I experienced there, particularly my evening walks with that special midsummer golden light.I couldn't have picked a better time to go.

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