As it turns out, the year A.D. 2004 is the year that we visited all of the Scandinavian capitals. Here are some of our experiences.
Reykjavík and Iceland, July 9--17;
Stockholm, July 24--28;
Helsinki, July 28--August 1;
Copenhagen, December 11--14;
Lillehammer and Oslo, December 14--18; and
Our summary would be that Norway was a lot of fun, in fact it would be fun to return in the summer, take in a track meet, and see some of the fjords in the summertime. Sweden was also fun, I'd like to return to see Tycho Brahe's observatory, I feel like I did not have quite enough time in Stockholm, and I'd certainly go back for the DN Galan. Iceland is a bit mixed, Jen would like to return to see more and it is supposedly a good place to see the Northern Lights, however, it also means taking Icelandair. Copenhagen wasn't bad, but I feel like I saw most of it. Finland, well, maybe the weather ruined it for us, but neither of us has any particular desire to return.
When we were planning our visit to Scandinavia, Iceland was not originally on the itinerary. As it turned out, however, I had some work that I wanted to present at the Bioastronomy 2004 conference, which was in Reykjavík. At the last minute (and as a birthday present), Jen decided to join me for part of the conference.
Unfortunately, we could not fly together. For reasons that can be stated succinctly as "corporate welfare," in order to fly to Reykjavík, I had to fly through London. That was way too expensive (not too mention longer) for Jen to fly the same itinerary; she was able to find a non-stop flight that cost only 25% of what my ticket cost and was half the flying time. Thus, she landed early Saturday morning and had a bit of a chance to explore Reykjavík while I was waiting in Heathrow for my flight, and then being delayed because of rain in the London area.
There is essentially only one airline that flies into Iceland, Icelandair. It will not win any awards from either of us for organization. Jen flew out of BWI and described the boarding procedure there as chaotic. I had the opportunity to hang out in the Icelandair business lounge in Heathrow. Typically flights board about 30--45 min. prior to departure. With less than 15 min. before scheduled departure, there was no gate information posted and the person at the desk could offer no insight. I decided to wander out of the lounge and see if there was any more information outside. There wasn't, until about 5 min. before the scheduled departure. At that point, the gate information was posted as "Last Call." The gate was one of the most distant ones from the main waiting area and the business lounge (projected walking time about 15 min.). So I and a bunch of other people are nearly sprinting down this long corridor, only to discover that we have to go through another security screening and that Icelandair is nowhere near ready to board.
Like many of the airports in the northern European countries, Keflavik, the Reykjavík airport, has quite nice architecture. The floors are wood(!) and there are plenty of windows. The airport has an "airy" feeling to it, and even on a cloudy day, there appears to be lots of natural light. The one draw back is that the airport itself is about a 1 hr drive from the city center.
Remembering how Iceland received its name, the drive from Keflavik to Reykjavík is illuminating. The landscape is covered with green. A closer look at the green, though, reveals that it is largely moss. When the Vikings named the island Iceland in an effort to make it seem undesirable, clearly there must have been areas closer to the seashore where more grass grew for livestock. Indeed, taking a longer view across the landscape, one sees a landscape that in many respects is similar to both Alaska and Hawaii. Like Alaska, it certainly has a short growing season, and, like Hawaii, it has been shaped by volcanoes and lava flows.
Finally arriving in Reykjavík and meeting up with Jen, it was late in the afternoon and rainy. (Precipitation would be a constant companion on these trips.) With me having arrived later than planned, we decided that we would just explore the area around the hotel. The hotel itself sat on the campus of a university and just next to the domestic airport.
On the far side of the domestic airport is the Parlan (Pearl). Iceland sits on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where the North American and Eurasian plates are separating. Thus, the inhabitants of Iceland have a ready supply of geothermal heat which they use for many purposes including providing hot water. The Parlan is a hot water storage facility, consisting of four vertical towers. (An Iowan might call them large silos.) Not being content with merely making a functional hot water storage facility, though, they've made it aesthetic. One of the storage tanks has been converted to a museum of Icelandic heritage, the interior is used often for receptions, and there is both a cafe and a nice restaurant on the upper levels of the Parlan.
As I would learn later in the week, the Parlan offers spectacular views of the city on a clear day. Given that it was misting and cloudy, we couldn't see very far, other than to get the sense that Reykjavík is a sprawling town. Just outside of the Parlan is a small "hot pot" or hot springs, named Stoker. It appeared as if it had been constructed in part to illustrate that Iceland and the Parlan specifically sat on this abundance of geothermal heat. Later in the week I heard a description of just how efficiently Icelanders use the geothermal heat to which they have access. In the 1960s or 1970s, a volcanic eruption covered a town in lava. After the top of the lava had cooled, the Icelanders drilled a hole into it, dropped down a pipe, circulated water through the pipe to heat it, and were able to provide power to a nearby city for something like 15 years before the internal portions of the lava had cooled too much.
The Parlan was also our first introduction to Icelandic love of art. Standing outside the Parlan were a group of metal (aluminum?) figurines.
At this point, it was becoming late enough that we decided to have dinner at the Parlan restaurant. The food was reasonable enough, though, it was also our first introduction to Scandinavian prices. Prices were definitely high, and the recent drop in the value of the dollar did not help. The Parlan restaurant is a rotating restaurant. Its rotation rate was just slow enough that one usually did not notice it. However, if one concentrated on the rotation, it was possible to start to feel a bit queasy. Also, I had the occasional weird sensation of looking over to other people's tables and feeling like I should be getting closer to them, even though they were on the same rotating platform as we were.
The next day we explored Reykjavík, starting near the waterfront. Iceland's economy has been heavily dependent on fishing. They are trying to diversify, with limited success. It is clear that fishing continues to play a large role in their economy. Even here, though, they manage to incorporate art. There are displays, some educational some artistic, on the waterfront. For instance, there are display showing the kinds of fish as well as a sculpture of two mariners looking out to sea hoping to welcome their compatriots home. Painted on the Customs House is a large, somewhat modern art-looking mural of the Sun setting over the Reykjavík harbor.
Also along the waterfront, but not in the harbor area, are two more sculptures. One was a gift from a former U.S. ambassador. It is a two-sided arrow, bent so that both arrowheads point skyward, and it symbolizes the alliance between the two countries. The other was a stylistic Viking boat, pointed toward the sea, to recognize the impact that the Vikings had on Iceland.
(It is worth noting that the U.S.-Iceland alliance is or was recently tested somewhat. The U.S. had loaned Iceland some fighter planes, I believe four F-15's. The U.S. has decided that it needs them back in order to deploy them elsewhere, which has caused an uproar within Iceland as these four planes constitute essentially their entire air force. The other item of political intrigue resulted from an action by the president. In principle, the Icelandic president has some nominal power, for instance, to veto bills passed by Parliament. In practice, I believe, that power has never been used and it was essentially understood that it would not be used. The current president decided to use it, though.)
We then headed back into town, passing by a statue to Ingólfur Arnarson, the reputed first settler of Iceland. (In actuality, it's possible that monks from Ireland had made it to Iceland in the 8th century, some 200 years earlier.) This statue stands on a small hill, so it provides a nice vantage over the harbor and part of the city. As a city, Reykjavík is incredibly sprawling, so one sees only a portion of it even from the Parlan.
Down the hill is the Þjóðmenningarhúsið (the National Cultural House). On exhibit was a series of ancient books. Some of these were Bibles, some were Icelandic sagas. The Icelandic sagas themselves are quite important within the Icelandic culture. We gathered that they were a collection of heroic stories from the pre-literary age of the Icelandic settlers. Jen saw people reading them while waiting in the airport in BWI, we saw numerous collections of sagas in bookstores, and, looking back, I think I remember seeing a number of indirect references to them in storefronts and the like. Much like the Book of Krells in Ireland, some of the saga books were beautifully illustrated. In some cases, they also looked incredibly fragile. The notion of a book surviving for close to 1000 years is fantastic.
The Þjóðmenningarhúsið sits on Laugavegur, the main shopping street through downtown. We wandered down it for a while. Among other things, we were looking for a book for Michael. We found a short story book, on Icelandic trolls if I recall correctly. Unfortunately, because it was a Sunday, many of the stores were closed.
(The Icelandic thorn symbol Þ is apparently pronounced as "th.")
After taking a break for lunch, which was a bit farther away, we then headed back to Laugavegur, walking just off the waterfront. Sitting in the midst of a small field is a stately looking house, Hófði House. A former residence of the French consul, it was the site of an important meeting between Reagan and Gorbachev in 1986.
Returning down Laugavegur, across from the statue to Ingólfur Arnarson is Stjórnarráð, which houses the prime minister's offices. "Houses" is the correct verb as it appears to be a house that was converted to official use. Unlike in the U.S., in which everyone is a suspect so that nobody can get too close to the White House, the Stjórnarráð sits on the corner of two main streets with essentially no apparent security.
Close by is the Austurvöllur Square, on one side of which sits the Dómkirkjan. While much of the Icelandic language can seem impenetrable, those who know a bit of German might guess that a Dómkirkjan is a church. This particular church stands on a site where there has been a church for at least 800 years.
Heading uphill away from the downtown area, we approached the Hallgrímskikja. In contrast to the Dómkirkjan, which is a relatively small building and if one is not paying attention one might not realize it is a church, the Hallgrímskirkja is difficult to miss. Sitting on top of a hill, it is an imposing yet airy Gothic church with a facade made of Icelandic basalt and meant to invoke an organ. Outside stands a statue of Leif Erickson and more metallic figurines.
Once inside, the differences between our upbringings became apparent. The church is beautiful, but in a stark sense. The walls are bare, though the large windows let in considerable natural light. There is essentially no artwork save for the statue of Jesus in a corner, a few paintings in another corner, and a metallic figurine sitting in one of the pews(!). Jen found this the way a church was supposed to look. After she made the comment, I realized it did look a bit bare, particularly in comparison to the Italian churches we visited last year. At this point, Jen confessed that she always found Italian churches a bit over the top in terms of the amount of artwork. (Guessing which one of us was raised as a Lutheran and which as a Catholic is left as an exercise for the reader.) Hallgrímskrikja also has a tall tower. Given half the opportunity, we'll head up a church tower to take a look. Unfortunately, Hallgrímskrikja is modern, so one has to ride an elevator rather than climbing stairs to get to the top of the tower.
Heading down hill, we took a bit of a circuitous route but ended up at the Listasafn Íslands (National Gallery). We wandered through it, but we were getting a bit tired and much of the artwork just didn't "click" for us.
Returning to the hotel, we passed Tjörnin Lake and the Ráðhús (City Hall). The lake sits just off the main area of the downtown and is a popular place for walking and feeding the ducks. Icelandic ducks don't look much different than U.S. ducks, but they have a unique way of feeding. They plunge their head under water, leaving their tail and rump high out of the water. Often their legs are just barely in the water. Watching them wiggle around as they hunt for food, it is difficult to avoid laughing.
The Ráðhús is situated right on the Tjörnin Lake, to the extent that the water laps up against the building. The Ráðhús was designed to blend into the environment, so there is water surrounding at least half of it, and the walls are covered, deliberately, with moss. The Radhus was also to be the site for the opening reception of the conference. We could see that they were busy setting up for the opening reception, and there were a couple of hours yet before it started, so we continued on to the hotel.
Just next to the hotel was the Þjóðarbókhlaða, the national and University library. The building is a deep red color, which is brilliant in the bright sun, and it is surrounded by a small moat.
At the hotel, we were tired and faced a decision, What to do until the reception? We were contemplating taking a nap, until we discovered that the hotel offered free passes to a nearby geothermally-heated swimming pool. After a bit of vacillation, we decided that this was an opportunity that didn't come along all that often, so we trekked over to it.
One aspect of Icelandic heated pools, at least the public ones, are omnipresent signs directing one to shower completely before entering the water. After we were in the water, Jen figured out why. The water is not chlorinated.
The water itself was clearly warm. However, it was a bit overcast, and there was a breeze. On a sunny day it would have been quite nice; that day the air temperature was perhaps 55 deg. F, and one had to keep moving to avoid getting too chilled. Next to the pool were a number of "hot pots" at different temperatures. We tried getting into the one at 44 deg. C. (Recall that human body temperature is 37 deg. C.) It was way too hot! We couldn't understand how anybody could stand being in it. We could tolerate the 34 (or 36?) deg. C pot. After that, we checked out the sauna. Again, that was so hot that it was difficult to breathe.
By now it was time to head back to the hotel and make a crucial decision, Attend the opening reception or not? Opening receptions can be fun, meeting people one hasn't seen for a while and they can be a cheap way to get a meal. However, Jen would know essentially nobody there, so we decided to skip it and just get a meal at a restaurant. I found out later that this was an excellent decision. The typical set up for a reception is to have food, and maybe some short opening remarks. This one was structured with a host of rather long talks, and nobody was allowed access to the food until the last speech was done. (One person later compared the wait staff to Valkeries.)
Monday was the first day of the conference, and the day that Jen headed home. One of the tourist attractions is to visit the "Blue Lagoon," a spa just near the airport. Its main attraction is a large, milky blue, geothermally heated lagoon. So while I was sitting in what was essentially a movie theater, Jen was floating in a hot pool prior to her trip home.
That night was the poster session. I was standing around talking to Dan W. about various things. He mentioned that he and his wife, Mary Kate, were going to try to head downtown to grab a bite to eat. We had been snacking on sandwichettes being provided at the session, but they weren't that filling. Eric K. was going to join Dan as well. (Dan and Eric work together on a SETI project.) Along the way the way we accreted Lori M. (who studies intelligence in dolphins) and Kim B. (who works on artificial intelligence). By this time, though, Dan and Mary Kate's son, William, was starting to get cranky, so they felt like had to get him some food fast. They sent us ahead, promising to meet up with us.
Somewhere along the way, the plan had evolved into hitting the local ice bar first, then grabbing some food. (This may have been Kim's idea.) So Eric, Lori, Kim, and I headed to the ice bar at the Kaffi Reykjavík restaurant. This is of course a huge tourist trap but incredibly fun. It's a room, probably a converted freezer, still kept below freezing, with blocks of ice all around. I think this particular ice bar was undergoing renovation, so not all of the walls were covered in ice. Cover charge purchases a drink and also rents one a parka. At first, I thought it would be wimpy to wear a parka, but, after getting into the ice bar, I discovered that wearing the parka was a smart idea.
We hung out there for about 0.5 hr. Kim took a number of pictures; we each had our drink. The others all had the national drink. (I don't remember what it is, but one of my co-workers said that essentially each country has its own national drink, like vodka for Russia, but that many of them are an acquired taste.) I had a vodka drink, which turned out to be surprisingly good. We kept waiting for Dan and Mary Kate to show up, but we were getting cold and beginning to assume that they might not show. So we headed across the street to a new restaurant. The English translation of its name is Fish Cellar, but it is a hip Asian place. While we were at this place, Dan found us and said that it had taken longer than they expected with William, so they were glad we had gone ahead without them.
Wednesday was the mid-conference tour, so the conference session were only a half-day. We went first to Þingvellir, the site of the Alþingi, the original Icelandic parliament. It is located in the rift valley where the North American and Eurasian plates are separating. From the 10th century to the 19th century, the parliament met here. Originally, I gathered that it was a meeting of the most powerful chieftains, but it grew into something approaching what might be called a modern-day parliament. (Icelanders are also fond of claiming that their parliament is the oldest operating in the world. However, everything that I read indicated that the Alþingi stopped meeting for an interval of something like 100 years while Iceland was under Norwegian and Danish control.)
The site of the Alþingi itself no longer exists, as I understood it. Being in the rift valley, the region is subject to earthquakes, and an earthquake led to the site being covered. The description "site" is accurate, as I do not believe that there was ever a building housing the Alþingi, but that it met outdoors. The region, though, is marked by mountains on either side and a lake in the middle. The bus ride in was spectacular, to think that one was climbing the mountains at the edge of the North American plate and descending into the boundary between the North American and Eurasian plates.
There was a visitor center at Þingvellir. Mostly it was interesting because, in its interior, there was a section in which the walls were about 10 feet apart or about the distance that the Eurasian and North American plates separate in about 1000 years.
From Þingvellir, it was on to the Gullfoss waterfall. The volume of water flowing over this waterfall was impressive. There were a couple of outlooks, one well above it, and another essentially on the waterfall itself. This being Europe and not the U.S., one could essentially get close enough to bend down and put one's hand in the water that was about to flow over the edge. I joked to Lori M. that the waterfall represented an intelligence test for the humans milling about. From a distance, one could also see a fairly impressive glacier.
From the Gullfoss waterfall, it was on to the Haukadalur geothermal field and the original geyser, Geysir. Geysir is one of several hot pots and geysers in an area about the size of a football field. Unfortunately, an earthquake in the last century, affected the flow of water through Geysir so that it now it erupts no more than about once a day. However, another geyser, Stokker, erupts roughly every 5 minutes, with the water and steam going as much as 100 feet in the air. Moreover, one can get close enough to watch the lead-up to the eruption.
Stokker erupts from a hole perhaps 5 feet across. Just after an eruption, the water on the surface of the pool is fairly calm. However, as pressure builds beneath the surface, the surface of the water starts undulating, slowly at first, but rapidly increasing in intensity. Just before the eruption, the surface of the water is probably moving up and down by several inches.
There was a hotel here, where we ate dinner. As luck would have it, as the busses were pulling out of the parking lot for the return to the hotel, Geysir began to erupt. Our cries of, "Wait, stop!" were not heeded. We still saw part of the eruption, though, and Geysir is even more impressive than Stokker, with water easily going a few hundred feet into the air.
Thursday was the conference dinner, at the Parlan. Even after the dinner finished, around 10:30 p.m., the Sun was still well above the horizon. Indeed, at midnight, it was still quite light out. The hour to which it stayed light out made it exceedingly easy to stay up too late and difficult to sleep. In order to get a decent amount of sleep, I slept while wearing a set of blinders to block out the light.
Saturday it was time to return home. On the flight from Reykjavík to London, I had the privilege of sitting next to Simon Conway Morris, a renowned paleontologist.
Unfortunately, the travel agent did not set up my flights very well. I had a 40 min. connection in London's Heathrow airport, and my plane was delayed for 20 min. by air traffic. In order to make the connection, I had to transfer from one terminal to another and go through Security again. Needless to say that I missed my flight. At the United desk, I was given the choice of going standby on the non-stop flight to Washington's Dulles or having a guaranteed seat on the flight to Chicago's O'Hare and connecting to a flight to Dulles. Being conservative, I chose the sure thing. One nice aspect was that I was upgraded to business class for my troubles.
(I arrived into Dulles around midnight. I was scheduled originally to step onto a plane around noon to go to another conference. I decided that, if I were single, I would have tried to do that, but that I wanted to spend a bit of time with my best friend before dashing off to another conference.)
This trip started well enough. We flew SAS, and, because of my Premier Executive status on United Airlines, we were upgraded from Economy to Economy Extra and allowed to use their business lounge prior to boarding.
However, after we boarded, a thunderstorm moving through the area caused a 2-hr hold on all air traffic. Consequently, we missed our connecting flight in Copenhagen. SAS had already re-booked us on another one of their flights, but because of the flight schedules we didn't get to Stockholm on Saturday until several hours after we planned originally. An additional delay was contributed by the SAS baggage handlers. In general our experience with SAS was quite pleasant, but it took far too long for the bags to be unloaded from our flight (more than 1/2 hour).
Travel between Stockholm's Arlanda airport and downtown Stockholm is quite pleasant. The Arlanda Express provides a short train ride from the airport to city center. Would that major U.S. cities have something comparable!
Once in Stockholm, and having found the hotel, we headed back out to explore. We walked along the harbor toward Gamla Stan (Old Town). Stockholm is really a series of islands, built around its harbor, in some respects reminding us of Sydney. The Scandinavian penchant for art was almost immediately apparent. A number of fiberglass cows had been decorated by artists and situated around town (much like Washington, DC, had its pandas). I don't remember if it was our first trip across the bridge into Gamla Stan or a later one that we noticed the large hand floating in the river. With its index finger pointing skyward, the hand appears to be permanently anchored just shy of the bridge linking Gamla Stan and Norrmalm.
Wandering through Gamla Stan, we passed the Kungliga Slotet (Royal Palace). We would revisit it later, but each facade (north, south, east, and west) is supposed to have a distinct style. We did not circumnavigate it, but we could tell that at least some of the facades were different, though we were not sure what they represented.
My memory is a bit hazy, but I believe we found our way to the Stortorget square. This square is notable for the 16th massacre of Swedish noblemen, which spurred a revolt against Danish rule and the establishment of the Swedish state under its first king, Gustav Vasa. Supposedly, on the anniversary of the massacre, if there is any rain, the water running off the stones will be red, although we think it has as much to do with the generally reddish hue of the stones. We may have stopped for a Coke at this point to get a caffeine charge. We then wandered past a couple of churches, which looked magnificent on the outside but were closed so we unable to view their insides. We ended up on the Västerlånggatan, one of the main shopping streets in the city. It is aimed at the tourists and/or those with thick wallets, but there were some interesting shops, including at least one good ice cream place (that we would revisit later in the week).
For dinner, we found a vegetarian place just off Västerlånggatan. Stockholm seemed to have lots of exclusively vegetarian eating establishments. We can't figure out if that reflects the taste of the person writing that section of the guidebook we were using or if Stockholm really does have lots of vegetarian restaurants. (In fact, we probably ate at more vegetarian restaurants in Stockholm in 3 days than we've eaten in D.C. during our entire time here.)
By this time, jet lag was beginning to catch up with us. We headed back to the hotel.
The next morning started with a stop back at the Slotet. Walking around it, we could tell that the different faces each had a different facade, though we were still not entirely sure that we could have told the queen's side from the king's side without the help of the guidebook. Entering the Slotet, there are a variety of rooms, decorated largely in the style of circa 17th century royalty. Jen notes that she would not have wanted to live in a place so large and almost over the top, even with servants to clean it.
We made a quick stop in the Chapel. It had the pew divisions that I'm becoming accustomed to seeing in northern European countries (or their former colonies like South Africa). I'm still not entirely sure that I understand the rationale. If a church is supposed to be a communal place, why divide up everybody?
This was also our first experience with the Swedish royal guard. Compared to many other military forces that we've seen, the Swedish royal guard is distinguished by two factors. The first is that women clearly serve in it. The second is there somewhat, shall we say, relaxed attitude to the entire affair.
We eventually made our way out to the Södermalm, where there was a good vegetarian place for lunch. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet style place, with a view looking out over the Stockholm harbor.
At this point, our memories become a little fuzzy. I believe that we wandered back to Drottninggatan by way of the Stortorget. We stopped in the Nobelmuseet (Nobel museum). It has a number of exhibits on the Nobel Prize and Alfred Nobel himself, as well as some rotating exhibits. When we were there, there was an exhibit on the human brain. It was interesting, though, focussed as much on artistic aspects as medical or physilogical. It was a nice enough place, but I bet it would be a lot more fun to visit it as a prize recipient!
Drottninggatan is another main shopping street, but this time more geared toward the locals. We picked up a few things, like Christmas cards; we also stopped in a department store looking for an umbrella, and squeezed in a hot chocolate.
For dinner that night we had a bit of a problem finding a place to eat but ended up Prinsen, where Jen had her first taste of Swedish meatballs in Sweden. She pronounced them to be wonderful.
The next morning we headed to the Riddarholmskyrkan. (Our memories become a bit fuzzy at this point.) This church is distinctive in part because of its red brick construction. It is also the site where many of Sweden's kings are buried. It has no spire to climb, but has a fair number of sarcophagi and the like. I believe it also contains a fairly famous sculpture of St. George killing the dragon.
I believe it was returning from the Riddarholmskyrkan that we passed a building with the sign "actuarie" (or something similar) next to it. Given that Jen is an actuary, we had to find out what it was. Turned out that it was associated with the Swedish Supreme Court!
Then we moved on to the more modern areas of Stockholm. This is roughly the area around Sergels Torg and the Kulturhuset. Filled with modern shops, often from transnational companies, this is clearly a hopping place with lots of people bustling about. Some of the architecture is fairly neat, too, showing the Scandinavian penchant for using lots of glass. The Sergels Torg includes a sunken pedestrian walkway in which various buskers, skateboarders, and demonstrators often were present.
We stopped back at the Slotet where some official ceremony was taking place. The previous day we had seen the changing of the guard after we exited the Slotet. We were expecting an affair similar to what takes place at the U.S. Tomb of the Unknown Soldier or the Greek Parliament guards. Changing of the guard is a serious affair at those places, with plenty of spit-and-polish, ram-rod straight men. We should have known better, based on our experience the previous day at the Slotet. The beginning of this ceremony was going to happen while it was pouring rain. Some of the guys were sort of looking around, and we saw a couple of them smiling or nearly laughing, as if to say to each other, "What are we doing standing here in the rain?" As I indicated above, the Swedish guard takes a somewhat more relaxed attitude toward the entire affair.
Next, I believe, was the Stadshuset. This is an unmistakable building, as it is fairly large, sits right on the water, and has a dull red color. (I don't recall if it is constructed out of bricks, like the Riddarholmskyrkan, but it is a somewhat more muted color than the church.) The Stadshuset contains the banquet hall in which the Nobel Prize dinner is held. Most notable about the Stadshuset, though, is that it has a tower one can climb to look out over Stockholm. Unlike the towers and spires of European churches to which we are accustomed, which have stairs to climb, the Stadshuset has an inclined walkway. The tower is in the form of a rectangle, with the inclined walkway running along the inside of the exterior wall. It certainly seemed to make the climb a lot easier. On the way up, we saw another sculpture of St. George and the ill-fated dragon. Although cloudy and in danger of raining, the view out over Stockholm was still impressive.
Down at sea level again, we found more art around the exterior of the Stadshuset. An artist had put long tubes stretching into the river. One could put one's ear up to the end of the tube and listen to the sounds formed by the water lapping inside and the noise transmitted through the water from farther out in the harbor.
Our next stop was the Parliament building. This was almost a well-timed stop as it was starting to rain heavily. I think we didn't miss all of the rain on the tour, but we certainly missed much of it.
The tour of Parliament was interesting, and our guide (whose name I've since forgotten) was quite knowledgeable. We got a bit annoyed by some of our fellow U.S. citizens during the beginning of the tour, though. The guide asked the group from where everybody hailed. Most people gave answers of England, Croatia, and the like. This one couple said, "Arizona." Last time I checked, Arizona isn't a country. It seemed like typical U.S. arrogance to assume that everybody else would know exactly where some U.S. state is. We said we were from the United States.
One aspect of the tour that really stands out for me was a discussion of Constitutional rule. In the United States, the Constitution is taken as the governing document, and, in principle, all laws and Governmental actions are supposed to be in accord with it. (Of course, in practice, it's not usually so clear cut, so post-September 11, there's a debate about the extent to which the Government is really required to charge citizens with crimes or whether it can hold them indefinitely without basis.) In contrast, in Sweden the approach to their constitution is considerably more "relaxed." Our guide described how a particular situation existed for many years (perhaps more than a decade) before their constitution was amended to reflect what was really being done.
After the tour of Parliament, the rain had stopped or at least slowed significantly. We headed back to Drottninggatan and started walking up an adjoining street Sveavägen. Among the unfortunate aspects of Sveavägen is that it was on this street that the Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme as assassinated in 1986. (I remember this assassination. Because people in the Scandinavian countries seem to have figured out how to solve disputes without killing each other, in contrast to much of the rest of the world, when an assassination does occur, it is big news.)
Continuing along Sveavägen, one wanders past any number of interesting stores and eventually finds the Stockholms Stadsbiblioteket or city library. Of course, all libraries are neat, but the central room of the Stockholms Stadsbiblioteket is circular, with the bookstacks along the wall. It was a neat sight; unfortunately, we were not sure we could use the flash on our camera, and the picture we have of it does not really do the library justice.
Wandering back toward the city center, we decided to skip the Stockholm observatory, which was near the Stadsbiblioteket. Partly this was just a time issue, as in we were running out of time, and partly it was not clear what we'd be able to see.
Tuesday was probably the best day of the entire trip. The day dawned bright, sunny, and warm. We rented bicycles and rode around several of the islands. Our first stop was the Vasa Museum.
The sailing ship Vasa dates from the 17th century and was to be the flagship of the Swedish Navy. Sweden and Russia have a long history of fighting over control of the Baltic. The Baltic was important both as a source of fish and as a trading route. However, having seen the Mediterranean, I'll confess that my opinion was that the Baltic was not worth the effort. In contrast to the deep blue of the Mediterranean, the Baltic was always a grayish color, even on the days when the Sun was shining.
As the intended flagship of his navy, the Swedish king had taken great interest in the Vasa. As I recall, it was to be one of the most heavily armed warships in the region, sporting two decks of cannons. Unfortunately, the Vasa's design also meant that it was top heavy. On its maiden voyage out of the Stockholm harbor, it rolled too much from either a swell or the wind, began taking on water, and sank quickly to the bottom. (As I recall, hundreds of sailors lost their lives.)
There would be no Vasa Museum today, were it not for the fact that the water in the Swedish harbor is so anoxic that wood-eating worms cannot survive. Thus, the Vasa lay more or less preserved at the bottom of the harbor until about the middle of the 20th century. After being discovered, the decision was made to raise the ship, and an impressive engineering effort was mounted to extract the Vasa from about 300 years of silt on the harbor's bottom.
Today the Vasa sits in the Vasa Museum, which is essentially an enclosed dry dock. In keeping with the Scandinavian view that functional places can be aesthetically pleasing, the Museum is modeled on a ship, even having masts mounted on its roof. In an effort to preserve the Vasa, the lighting within the museum is kept subdued. The museum has several floors built around the Vasa itself, with exhibits on the raising of the ship, the political conditions at the time of its construction, the aftermath of her sinking, articles pulled from the Vasa, etc. One striking aspects of some of the articles was the hubris of the Swedish king. In at least one place on the ship, a number of Roman emperors were carved; one, Augustus, was omitted because the king imagined himself to be the next Augustus. Some of the exhibits were even somewhat interactive, such as the crow's nest facsimile built on one of the upper levels of the museum. One can step out onto it and look out over the Vasa, from at least 50 feet in the air.
Generally, we rode around the Djurgärden, another island making up part of Stockholm.
From there we rode out to the Kaknaästornet (Kaknäs TV Tower). Located on the outskirts of Stockholm and standing about 160 meters tall, the Kaknästornet hosts a restaurant and a viewing center, in addition to serving as a broadcast tower for various TV and radio stations. It presented a nice vantage point from which we could look out over the entire city.
By this time, we had to head back to return our bikes and proceed to the primary reason to going to Stockholm. We had arranged the schedule so that we would be in Stockholm for the DN Galan track meet. (We found out later that DN is one of the local newspapers, and it sponsors the meet.) The DN Galan is part of the Super Grand Prix II Series of the International Amateur Athletics Federation (IAAF, track & field's governing body), so it has lots of prize and appearance money to distribute and many world-class athletes show up to compete. (The even more prestigious Golden League series can attract many more world-class athletes.)
Participation might have been down slightly this year because the meet was held only a few weeks before the start of the Olympics. Nonetheless, there were a number of "big name" athletes present, including some members of the U.S. team. We saw Nicole Teeter, Jearl Miles Clark, Toby "Crash" Stephenson, and Ato Bolden, to name just a few.
The meet was held in the same stadium used for the 1912 Olympics. The stadium lends not only an historic feeling to the meet, but an intimate one as well. First off, the seats/benches are all wood. As it turns out, this is a nice touch as they don't feel as hard or cold as the metal seats in many U.S. stadia. That the seats didn't feel too cold was good, as it started raining about midway through the meet. The stadium holds about 15,000 people, with the first row of seats being essentially just above the track. Sitting in row 4, we were able to see a considerable amount of the action. Our seats were on the far side of the stadium from the finish line. (They were obtained for us by the concierge at the Stockholm Sheraton.) This meant that many of the sprint races (the 100-m sprints and the women's 100-m and men's 110-m hurdle races) were a bit tough to see. However, they were right in front of the long jump/triple jump pit. As two hometown favorites, Carolina Klüft and Patrik Kristiansson, were competing in the long jump and triple jump, respectively, this lent a festive air to the far side of the stadium.
At the beginning of the meet, there were young people distributing wristbands. Being the suspicious U.S.American type, after overhearing their "sales" pitch, I asked if there was any "catch." They were distributing wristbands, on which a number was written. One could later go to a Web site and enter the number for a chance to win a trip to the 2005 IAAF World Championships in Helsinki. There was no "catch," nothing to purchase, nada. Just get an wristband and go to the Web site. Needless to say, I took one and then convinced Jen to go get one. (We didn't win.)
In the U.S. a "track meet schedule" is an oxymoron, akin to an Amtrak schedule or military intelligence. At least at this meet, they had a schedule that they maintained. In part they did this by building in some cushion time. Nonetheless, if the schedule said that an event would start at 19:30, it did. The meet started at 16:00 with some national-class runners, even some high-school or younger runners. This is a good idea; it gives some of the less experienced runners a chance to compete in an historic stadium in front of a knowledgeable crowd. There was even a 4 x 200-m boy-girl relay race for what appeared to middle school students. Track meets are also quite festive in Europe, as the organizers had arranged for a bunch of "cheerleaders" (every one of them blond haired and blue-eyed :) to run onto the track and do cartwheels or something like that. In general, the meet ran fairly well, but we did see one near miss. The men's 3000-m steeplechase consists of about 7.5 laps around the track, jumping five barriers, one of which is fixed over a water pool. The four other barriers must be moved onto the track. One of these barriers is very near to where the runners start, so it cannot be moved onto the track until after the runners start. Well, the runners started, and nobody came out to move the barrier. The runners had completed about 3/4 of a lap, some of the spectators were starting to notice that the barrier had not been moved out. At this point, one of the organizers realized it, too. Yelling to one of the helpers, they just managed to get the barrier in the proper position as the runners got to it.
At 18:00 the world-class meet started. A number of the events were quite close. The women's 800-m run was an extremely tight finish. Nicole Teeter from the U.S. led for a portion of the race before fading to fourth in the last few meters. In many ways the meet resembled a three- or four-ring circus. At one point, I think the men's high jump, the women's long jump, the men's pole vault, and a running event were occurring simultaneously. The women's long jump was exciting, in part because we were right in front of it and in part because it came down to Carolina Klüft from Sweden and Grace Upshaw from the U.S. Klüft had a huge following of course, so it was hard not to root for her to jump well. By the same token, though, we cheered for Upshaw to beat her. In the end Klüft edged out Upshaw.
Later that evening, Sweden had athletes competing to win in the men's high jump, the men's triple jump, and the men's pole vault. As one might imagine, there was considerable anticipation whenever the Swedish athlete was ready to jump or vault. The typical practice is for the athlete to begin leading the crowd in a rhythmic clapping, whose tempo increases until the athlete runs down the runway. A Brazilian triple jumper had a neat twist on this practice, with the clap being two fast claps followed by a brief pause and then another clap. With the prominent role of the Swedish athletes, the crowd was poised to respond whenever one of their athletes jumped or vaulted. As one might imagine, if the high jumper or pole vaulter made it over the bar, there were loud cheers. The Swedish word for "no" is "nei," pronounced like "neigh" (yes, like an English speaker would describe the sound of a horse :). If the jumper or vaulter did not make it over the bar, a huge cry of "nei" would go up from the crowd.
In many respects, though, Swedish is quite close to English. At times I could even follow bits and pieces of what the announcer was saying about the athletes.
After the meet, we joined the hordes trying to make it to the subway and back to the hotel. It ended up being a short night as we had to awaken early in order to catch our flight to Helsinki.
The day dawned beautiful, sunny and warm with hardly a cloud in the sky. While waiting for our flight, we wandered the Stockholm airport, mailed a few post cards, and took a survey for users of the Stockholm airport. Then it was off to Helsinki.
As a final note, Jen went running two morning while we were in Stockholm. She found her morning runs along the canals to be quite pleasant.
We landed in a light rain, almost a heavy drizzle. The first thing one notices about Finland is that the language is completely different. Whereas Swedish is clearly a Western European language, Finnish is most definitely not. In fact, whereas Swedish and English are both Indo-European languages, Finnish is essentially unrelated and is part of a small group of languages known as Finno-Ugric, which also contains Estonian and, distantly, Hungarian. Thus, signs in the airport are filled with double consonants or vowels in combinations that look strange to an English speaker (e.g., "jj," "kk," or "uu").
With a little help from a kind gentleman outside of the train station, we were able to figure out the tram system and get close to our hotel. It was a bit of a walk down the street from where we got off. Of course, once we'd had a chance to explore the city a bit more, we discovered that we could have stayed on the tram and gotten much closer to the hotel. Making our way to our room, we saw that the hotel advertises that it has a sauna, as does essentially every hotel in Finland, I think. We went looking for the hotel's sauna one day, but couldn't find it, though we think we could feel the heat from it on the tiled floor in our room.
After dropping our stuff, we headed downtown. We walked along one of the main streets, Eteläesplanadi, stopping in one or two stores. One of them was a toy store, but I was not very impressed. Either that or the toys were o.k., but impractical or too big to take home to our nieces and nephews.
Continuing down Eteläesplanadi, we reached the main harbor and the Kauppatori. The Kauppatori is an open-air market. We reached it just as the final few vendors were starting to close up. When we would return later in the trip, it would be in full swing with vendors selling all manner of produce, meat, fish, and crafts. Some of the vendors even just pulled their boats up to the quay and sold their wares off their boats. One of the hot items were peapods. People would buy them, then eat the peas right there, so many of the produce stands would be surrounded by the empty pea pods. Also, when we returned, we found a number of neat wood items to purchase.
Leaving Kauppatori, we passed by the Havis Amanda, a fountain containing a statue of a young woman surrounded by dolphins. Even though it was a bit of a gray day, the fountain seemed cheerful (though the water in it was a bit cold).
Across the street from the Kauppatori is the Presidentinlinna (President's Palace) and Kaupungintalo (City Hall). There was slight more security (a fence) surrounding the Presidentinlinna than the Stjórnarráð in Reykjavík but far less than surrounds the White House.
Leaving the Kauppatori, we headed down Pohjoisesplanadi. The streets Eteläesplanadi and Pohjoisesplanadi bound a central, tree-lined mall. As I recall it had lots of flowers and would have generally been fairly nice, were it not so wet. There was a bandstand set up and a jazz band playing as part of a summer jazz or band festival. We stopped for a few minutes to listen to the music, which I recall being quite good.
I think we may have stopped in a couple of stores, but it was getting late enough that stores were starting to close. We found the closest restaurant that seemed reasonable, which turned out to be an Italian place in a shopping gallery. In general, we found few "Finnish" restaurants, and fewer that sounded reasonable. Finnish cooking is influenced heavily by Russian influences, so borsht and the like are common. After dinner, we were feeling the effects of the short night after the track meet the previous night so we retired.
The next day dawned gray and rainy. Rightly or wrongly, we decided not to let the downpour stop us. After all, we reasoned, if it is raining hard, it cannot last that long. (Right?)
We headed out to see the Mikael Agricolan Kirkko, dedicated to the 16th century religious man noted, for among other things, his translation of the New Testament to Finnish. Along the way I think we got lost and found another church, which we briefly thought was Mikael Agricolan Krikko. We also wandered past a Nepalese restaurant. This one caught our eye, though we never ate in it, because we had been starting to think about a trip through the Himalayas
The neighborhoods around Mikael Agricolan Kirkko are supposed to have distinctive architecture, though often our views of it consisted of peeking out from under the umbrella. Continuing on, we reached the seaside and the Merenkulkijoiden Muistomerkki (Seafarer's Torch), an eternal flame to sailors, guiding home those out at sea and in rememberance of those who did not return.
Wandering along the coastline from the eternal flame, past a park, and toward the downtown harbor area, we passed what appears to be a unique Finnish custom. There were two or three large floating docks, docks floating just barely above the water line. On a clear day, Helsinki residents will gather here to wash their rugs in the Baltic. On the shore, there is a wringer and a number of drying racks. Even though it was raining quite heavily as we walked by, there were a few forlorn rugs hanging out to dry.
The guide book advised looking out to sea to the Gulf of Finland Archipelago. Apparently the harbor area of Helsinki freezes over during the winter allowing one to walk out to the islands. Later we would see two large icebreakers in the Helsinki harbor, attesting to the temperature in the winter.
Walking away from the harbor, we strolled through the park Kaivopuisto. It contains various museums, embassies (including an imposing Russian embassy), and the Tähtitorninvuori (Observatory Tower Hill). There is a bit of a view of the harbor from here. "Observatory" in this case refers to an astronomical observatory. Although our guide book indicated that it was operated by Helsinki University, it was not clear that there was anybody present.
Heading down the hill, we stopped to watch a ferry being loaded. For whatever reason, I always picture ferries as being small boats, perhaps large enough to hold a couple of cars. (I suspect that my first introduction to a ferry was on some small lake in Iowa.) Like the ferries that travel along the Alaskan coast and between the Greek islands, though, the ferries that ply the Baltic are large ships, easily holding hundreds of passengers and tens of cars. There was almost always at least one ferry in the harbor, pointing to their continued importance in moving people and supplies along the coast line.
We stopped for lunch in a place that we found in downtown. It was perhaps the most authentic Finnish restaurant in which we would eat on the entire trip. Among other items served were some hearty bread and a pea soup. Jen even screwed up the courage to try the pea soup and pronounced it edible. Dessert was crepe-like pancakes with a fruit jam, which was both good and seemed novel.
We spent much of the afternoon in a museum, as much to escape the rain as to see the museum. We don't remember which museum, either the Suomen Rakennustaiteen Museo (Museum of Finnish Architecture) or the Taideteollisuusmuseo (Museum of Art and Design). Like design elsewhere in Scandinavia, Finnish design is blessed with simplicity and the use of lots of wood. Unfortunately, both of us managed to become sleepy in while in the museum so we don't remember a lot of specific details.
After the museum, we headed toward the Uspenskin Katedraali, the main Orthodox church in Finland. We got there only to discover that it had closed for the day. From there it was on to the Senaatintori (Senate Square). I'd read somewhere that the Senaatintori has been used as a stand-in for Red Square in Moscow for films during the Soviet era.
By now it was getting time for dinner. We found a recently-opened Latin cuisine place just off Senaatintori.
This day we started at the Uspenskin Katedraali. Its interior was striking and ornate. It also looked as if it might be being prepared for some kind of ceremony, a baptism or wedding. Access to the interior was somewhat limited so we could not linger. The Uspenskin Katedraali itself is in a remarkable position sitting on an outcropping overlooking the harbor. It is visible for some distance, particularly with its onion domes.
The Uspenskin Katedraali also sits on a penisula which extends into the harbor. We strolled along it, though I don't remember seeing anything particularly significant other than another ferry that was being loaded.
We then headed back through town, doing a bit of window shopping along the way. This may have been when I noticed Uniq, to which we returned later. We passed by the train station, then headed out of town along the Mannerheimintie, one of the major roads out of the city. I believe on the way out we walked by the Eduskuntatalo (Parliament House). I think that the Finnish Parliament has one of the highest percentages of women serving in a legislative body. For part of the way, it runs along the lake Töölönlahti. There are some nice paths along the lake, and along the way we encountered a group of people that was "trekking" (I think that is the correct term). Imagine cross-country skiing without the skis. Perhaps in a mountainous terrain, where footing might be unstable, I could understand walking with poles. For a walk along flat ground, though, I didn't see that the poles added much.
We passed the Finlandiatalo concert hall. For whatever reason, we decided to pass on a tour of it and continue. (It may have been that we would have had to wait for a while for a tour.) The concert hall is supposed to be magnificent at night, with its white exterior illuminated by light. In the midst of a drizzle, it did not seem particularly distinctive.
Our destination was the Olympiastadion, site of the 1952 Summer Olympics and the 2005 IAAF World Championships. As is appropriate, a statue of Paavo Nurmi stands outside the stadium. Nurmi was one of the greatest distance runners ever and one of the greatest Olympians. He won a total of 12 Olympic medals, 9 of them gold, including the astounding feat at the 1924 Olympics (Paris) of winning the 1500 meters, followed by winning the 5000 m only 2 hr later(!), followed by winning the 10,000 m cross-country race (an event no longer contested) two days later. Alongside the stadium is a tall tower, with nice views out over the city. With a little patience and the correct orientation, we could see the harbor and the Uspenskin Katedraali, which were easily a couple of kilometers away. The stadium itself was under renovation in preparation for the 2005 World Championships. We were able to get into the trackside seats that will be/were used by members of the press covering the World Championships. They were reasonable seats, not quite as nice as the wooden benches in the Stockholm stadium. (Since returning, we've found the seating chart for the World Championships. Essentially the entire homestretch is reserved for the media, which led us both to ask what the point of attending the meet is.)
From the Olympiastadion we continued along the Töölönlahti to the Suomen Kansallisooppera (opera house). It wasn't clear if there were tours, and it appeared that they might be setting it up for a show, so we walked around the exterior then headed back into the city.
Along the way we passed the Helsingin Taidehalli (art gallery). Either it wasn't raining hard enough or we were becoming art saturated, as we passed it by.
We did stop at the Temppeliaukio Kirkko. Our guide book described it quite accurately as a crashed flying saucer. The church was carved into the rock, and its top is a copper dome that protrudes slightly above the top of the outcropping. Although one might think that a church carved into rock would be dreary on the inside, there were windows joining the upper dome within the rock so there was a fair amount of natural light within the church. It was also peaceful to sit and listen to the organ music.
From here we stopped in the Suomen Kansallismuseo (Finnish National History Museum). It traces the history of Finland from about the second millennium B.C., when it was sparsely inhabited by tribes, to Finland's modern history. Some of the early artifacts, showing how the early Finns had survived in a fairly harsh climate and the spread of Christianity, were interesting. I found it somewhat less interesting as Finland became a battleground between Sweden and Russia.
Leaving the museum, I remember having two thoughts. First, I got the sense that the Finnish language might be such an unusual language because it (and the people that speak it) has barely survived. Often, when a new people sweep into an area, their language and customs become dominant so that the "diversity" of languages in the region drops dramatically. This has been seen in Africa, as the Bantu people expanded across the continent, and in the South Pacific during the great migrations through the islands. The second, and related, thought was that the Finland has had a fairly unremarkable history. The museum did not describe Finland as a hospitable place, suggesting that the Finns may not have migrated there by choice, but rather had been pushed northward by other, stronger tribes. Dominated by the Swedes and Russians, the Finns never established a great empire, never conquered their neighbors, never amassed great power or wealth. Then again, one might also wonder if we use the correct measure for "greatness."
Afterward we wandered back toward the train station and the Nykytaiteenmuseo (Kiasma) (Museum of Contemporary Art). After having just coming out of one museum, we didn't feel like going back through another and it wasn't clear we really had the time to do it right, but it did look like it could be an interesting museum.
It was slightly early for dinner, so we stopped back at Uniq, the nightclub with an ice bar. Much like the ice bar in Reykjavík, this ice bar looked to be a converted freezer, although it was not undergoing renovation, so the walls were more decoratively covered with ice blocks. We had a fun time, dressed in our parkas, sipping our vodka drinks, and taking pictures. (Jen even got little booties to cover her feet, since she had been wearing sandals.) Again, we managed to outlast many of the other tourists who stopped in.
(One night as we returned to the hotel, we saw that the desk clerk was watching a track and field meet. It turned out that it was the Finnish national championships and qualifying meet for the Olympics, so we were able to see part of this meet on TV as well.)
Our final day in Helsinki dawned rainy (surprise, surprise). We started in the Vanha Kauppahalli. In addition to having an outstanding selection of meats, cheeses, fish, and a host of other items, this market was covered. European markets are neat places through which to stroll. I think the diversity of food for sale certainly rivals that of a U.S. supermarket. (I don't know the exact statisic, but my estimate is that no more than about 50% of a U.S. supermarket is used for selling foodstuff.) Also, the foodstuff in a European market always seems so fresh, particularly in Helsinki the fish looked like it was just off the boat. (There are a few places we've found like this in the U.S.: Pike Place Market in Seattle, the market in the old ferry building in San Francisco, and Eastern Market in Washington, D.C.)
Emerging from the Vanha Kauppahalli, the Kauppatori was in full swing. We wandered and shopped through it, then headed to the Tuomiokirkko, which sits on the Senaatintori. The Tuomiokirkko is a Lutheran cathedral, which prompted the by now usual exchange in which Jen found the walls appropriately adorned while I found them rather bare. The interior is notable for its large organ as well as a couple of magnificent paintings (though we don't remember the subjects of the paintings). Our guidebook also mentions that the Tuomiokirkko has an interesting crypt, though we either were unable to find it or it was closed.
At this point, in part because we felt that we were running out of things to see and Jen had heard that there were snow leopards there, we headed to the Korkeasaari Eläintarha (Helsinki Zoo). One of its attractions was that it has snow leopards. Also, the zoo is on one of the islands in the Helsinki harbor, thus we took a water taxi to it, thereby seeing Helsinki from its important harbor.
(Jen had been suggesting a trip to Estonia, as we saw a number of day trips to Tallinn. Somehow that didn't feel right to me, and we didn't end up doing it.)
We wandered about the zoo for a while. Like any self-respecting feline, the snow leopards were sleeping, but we could catch a glimpse of them in their den. It's fascinating to see animals we consider common to be a novelty. One of the zoo's holdings included a North American skunk. However, it is also clear that the zoo is too small for some of the animals; the tiger had worn a path into the dirt from its pacings about its cage.
Lunch was at the zoo. We had picked up some croissants at a bakery and cheese at the Vanha Kauppahalli. The croissants were wonderful, a flaky whole grain style, while the cheese was discarded upon opening as we discovered it too pungent for our liking.
Dinner that night was an adventure in trying to find something that was open and appealing. Either the restaurant was closed for the summer season or the menu was unappetizing ("we serve borsht with every dish!"). We ended up at a restaurant named Garlic. The discerning reader can probably guess what a common ingredient in many of the restaurant's dishes was. This was probably also one of the more authentic Finnish dinners we had. I had the reindeer (no, not Rudolph), which was quite tasty.
We arrived early on a Saturday morning, sufficiently early that the hotel did not have our room ready. After putting on an extra sweater to keep ourselves warm, particularly against the chill of the wind, we headed out to explore Copenhagen.
Our hotel, the Copenhagen Strand, was located on the Inderhavn (canal?). Following it we walked along the canal encircling the Christiansborg Slot (Christiansborg Castle), veering off to find the Rådhus (City Hall).
Walking along the canals, I was reminded of something I realized in Stockholm. Even though all of the Scandinavian capitals are harbor cities, and in some cases have canals running through them, the air seems relatively dry.
We also realized two things quite quickly. The first is the Danish love of art and design. In the canal running by the Christiansborg Slot is a sculpture entitled "The Merman and His Seven Sons." We could only count six sons, but we later found a picture suggesting that one of the sons had been removed. The other was the Danish love of bicycles. Much like Amsterdam, there are numerous, well-marked bicycle lanes. Later in our trip, we'd even see a bicycle lane that was as wide as the adjoining automobile lane.
The Rådhus Pladsen was nicely decorated with a tree, and the Rådhus itself was decked out with pine boughs and lights. During the summer, I imagine that the Rådhus Pladsen is a hopping place. Today it was, while not empty, far from packed. There was a band apparently setting up to play (Itsi Spider?). Across from the Rådhus Pladsen is a corner office building with a neon thermometer (reading +5 C) and two sculptures of a girl. Depending upon the weather, the girl is either riding a bike or carrying an umbrella. Today, she couldn't make up her mind.
We walked into the Rådhus. It had some neat architecture, almost as if the building had been built in several stages and styles. Some of the interior walls looked as if they could have been exterior walls at some point, and there were interior balconies on some of the windows. Unfortunately, the bell tower was closed for the season (a phenomenon that we would find repeated elsewhere). We also took a look at the World Clock. Designed both as a timepiece and an astronomical record, the World Clock shows the current time, locations of the planets, phases of the Moon, days of the week and holidays during the year, and much more. The clock is open so one can look either at its faces for the various displays or look behind it and see the various gears and the like. The only part I could not figure out was the equation of time. What the clock was showing for the local time (which accounts for the difference between the mean solar time of one's time zone and one's longitude) didn't seem quite right and what the clock showed for true solar time (accounting for the Sun's actual position in the sky) seemed way off.
From the Rådhus we strolled, well, pushed our way up the Strøget. This series of five streets is the spine of the city. It was also our first introduction to a charming habit of Scandinavians of placing candles both inside and outside their shops. The candles provided a warming, welcoming glow, which became all the more apparent after nightfall at about 3:30 p.m. Being the main shopping district and a Saturday only a few weeks before Christmas, the Strøget was packed with people. Hence our stroll was more of an exercise in collision avoidance.
Passing through a couple of squares on the Strøget, we heard a group of musicians either practicing or performing. At times, it wasn't quite clear which it was. A little farther down the Strøget, we thought we heard them marching toward us. We quickly realized, however, that the band marching toward us was much larger and much better. We learned later that it was the Royal Guard marching past us. Every day they march through the city as part of the changing of the guard.
After a break for lunch, we returned down the Strøget to Tivoli. Tivoli is many things: part amusement park, part carnival midway, part restaurant row. Although I've never been to Coney Island, I have the sense that it might be similar. We wandered through it for at least a couple of hours. There was a Christmas fair going on, what would turn out to be the best one of the entire trip. We took the time to look at many of the stalls and little shops. We found it a bit cold to ride any of the rides, though there were intrepid souls riding the roller coasters.
Another great Danish idea were occasional warming stands. There were essentially grills without the grill. A pile of charcoal (or fake charcoal and a gas flame) put off heat and one could stand around warming up. Of course, these warming stands also demonstrated classic European sensibility. Even though there were lots of children about, nobody ever seemed to get burned. In contrast, of course, in the United States, such warming stands would last all of one hour before some out-of-control kid would burn his hands and the non-parental parents would sue everybody from the amusement park to the charcoal makers.
Tivoli was also Jen's first taste of glögg, a mixture of warm red wine, raisin, and almonds, and mixture she very much enjoyed. I prefer hot chocolate.
We left Tivoli just as the crowds descended. Around 4:00 p.m. or so, hordes of people were lining up with lines stretching down the (very long) block.
We made our way over to the Tycho Brahe Planetarium. The architecture is neat, the building looks like a cylinder with the top part sheared off at an angle. We didn't actually watch the show, though. The show didn't seem particularly exciting (it wasn't even on astronomy), we were not sure we could stay awake, and we didn't want to pay the surcharge necessary to get the English translation. I looked later and discovered that Tycho Brahe's observatory, Uraniaborg, is no longer in Denmark. The island on which it is located is now part of Sweden. Thus, a visit to it will have to wait.
We got a long night's sleep that night, caused by two factors. First, for whatever reason, we'd both had trouble sleeping on the flight over. Jen described it as an average flight for her (though she is spoiled by having flown business class once), but it was definitely a below-average flight in terms of the amount of sleep that I got. Second, it is easy to sleep for a long time when daybreak doesn't occur until after 9:00 a.m. Winter mornings in Scandinavia give a whole new meaning to the military term "oh-dark-hundred."
Walking through Copenhagen the next day, we both got the impression that it is a quaint city, a description meant in a good sense. At least the central parts of it seem like a large small town. I don't think at any point in our visit (well, with the exception of Saturday afternoon on the Strøget) did it seem like a big, bustling, impersonal city.
The next morning Jen went for a run around the three lakes in the city, near the Tycho Brahe planetarium. Our guide book described them as nirvana for running, and judging by the number of fellow runners out that morning, Jen agrees.
The next morning we made a shopping run. We found a kitchen toy store, with all kinds of neat gadgets for cooking. Largely we just walked through it, marveling at the amount of toys that one could buy for the kitchen, but we also picked up a few neat Christmas gifts.
The Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek is a museum. (It also is a testament to the influence of the Danish Carlsberg brewing company.) On Sundays it is open for free. When we visited it was undergoing renovation so some of the exhibits were closed, but we wandered through some of the classical and Renaissance exhibits. The classical exhibits were actually fairly impressive. They had a number of sculptures, even two mummies, on display. The Glyptotek has also been at the forefront of recent efforts to try to figure out how classical sculptures may have looked in their day. Through a variety of techniques (UV absorption, grazing incidence reflection, etc.), scholars have been able to figure out some classical sculptures may have looked. What we see today, with the smooth white marble, appears to be only a pale remnant of the sculptures' former glory. Many of the sculptures may have been painted in bright, even garish, colors. They had some pictures in the gift shop though no actual examples in the exhibits. The comparison between the reconstructed sculptures and what we see today is striking.
Essentially across the street from the Glyptotek is the Dansk Design Center. The Dansk Design Center is not quite a musuem as much as a center to highlight recent Danish design. The exhibits included recent furniture designs, the annual Danish design competition, and the Flow Market. The annual Danish design competition apparently looks at products replaced in the past year and evalutates them on the basis of functionality and design. Winners from this year's competition included a child's wheelchair that could "grow" with the child, a sound meter, a computer font, flexible bandages, a trash compactor, and a human-computer interface that was projected on the floor rather than displayed on a screen. The Flow Market is part practical joke, part reflection on our consumer culture. Set up as a grocery market, the Flow Market contains shelves filled with bottles promising to bring revitalization, peace, harmony, etc. All of the bottles are empty. It took us a few minutes to figure out. Other people clearly had fallen harder. At the "checkout" counter, there were bottles, even shopping baskets, from people who had picked up stuff to "buy."
The Nyhavn canal used to be a place where sailors gathered. There are a few establishments left to suggest its former glory(?), but today it is largely a restaurant row. There was also the remnants of a Christmas fair, through which we wandered.
We started the day by walking along the Inderhavn away from city center. We passed by the Amalienborg (Amalia's Castle), which is apparently the royal residence. The Inderhavn gives way to the Yderhavn. Along the way we could see across the canal (river?) the new opera house. (Our hotel was actually fairly close to the old opera house, still in use and magnificent). Based on comments in our guidebook and the sign on the canal's edge, we gathered that this was not the original site for the new opera house but that the site had been moved. Once again, though, the Danish love of good design with buildings being both functional and pleasing to the eye was apparent.
We continued past Churchillparken to the still being repaired fountain of the goddess Gefion. One idea that the travels in Scandinavia has re-inforced is the richness of the pre-Christian mythology in Europe. I read many of the classic myths while a boy. When growing up, I had the sense that the Norse gods were almost an afterthought. I still think that the classical myths are a bit richer than the tales of the Scandinavian gods, but it is clear that the Scandinavian mythology was also much richer than I had realized.
Past the fountain of the goddess Gefion is the Den Lille Haufrue. Described by our guidebook both as Copenhagen's favorite pinup and somewhat overhyped, the statue of the Little Mermaid is still a sight worth seeing. (Later while Jen was trying to pick out books as Christmas presents, I thumbed through a book to remind myself of the real story of the Little Mermaid.)
We headed back into the city via the Kastellet in the Churchillparken. Once a central military fort in the capital, the Kastellet is still used as a military base, though people can wander in and out of it. The Kastellet is a monument to the rapid pace of change in military capabilities. As recently as 1945 it was still in serious use, but it would need serious additional fortifications for use today.
We largely window shopped our way down Store Kongensgade, with a stop in the Marmonkirken. It is an impressive church, and, viewing it in the off season, much quieter than during the high season, I imagine. In response to my comment about how bare the walls of the church looked, Jen was heard to say that that's how churches are supposed to look.
From there we headed across Inderhavn to Christianshavn. On National Public Radio (NPR) I'd heard a story recently about Christiana. This was a former military (naval?) base on the island of Christianshavn. In about 1971, a bunch of anarchists stormed it and declared it the Free State of Christiana. Until recently, the Danish government had been content to ignore them. However, there have been recent suggestions that the area needs to be reclaimed. So now there the innumerable "Save Christiana" and "Christiana Forever" posters. Some of Christiana is about what one would expect, lots of psychedelic murals, and stalls selling all kinds of T-shirts, posters, and smoking accessories. There were also a couple of large murals indicating the inhabitants' intense dislike of cameras. I'd like to say that Christiana is worth saving, after all the idea of a bunch of people living freely has a certain iconclastic appeal. However, the place also looks like just a step up from an unkempt junkyard. It was almost as if it were illustrating some of the worst aspects of human nature, if everything is everybody's then nobody takes care of anything.
From Christiana we walked back to the Vor Frelsers Kirken, which we had passed on the way to Christiana. This church has a spire which looks like it would be extremely neat to climb, as it looked like the steps are on the outside of the spire. Unfortunately, the fact that the top of the spire could just be seen disappearing into the mist in the sky apparently satisfied the criterion of "inclement weather" as the spire was closed.
With a brief break for lunch at a corner bakery, we then left Christianshavn and headed back to the main part of Copenhagen. Our next stop was the Korgelige Bibliotek (Royal Library), more commonly known as the "Black Diamond" because of the shape and black exterior of a recent addition. Libraries should either look like the royal library in Vienna, which its majestic stacks upon stacks of books, or like the Black Diamond. With a soaring interior and many windows, it is a wonderful place to store books. More than once I asked myself why more libraries in the U.S. cannot look like this. (This is not to take anything away from Andrew Carnegie's donations, and, perhaps, with the Seattle library more U.S. libraries will begin to look like the Black Diamond.)
Heading out of the Black Diamond, we crossed through the Christiansborg Slot. I was interested in seeing the Thovaldsen Museum, which celebrates one of the greatest neoclassical artists. However, Jen wasn't that interested and, as it was approaching 4:00 p.m. and night was falling, it wasn't clear that it would still be open. We were able to catch a peek into some of the upper-level rooms, and the interior decoration looked quite magnificent with lots of bold primary colors.
We then tried to find the Assistens Kierkegourd as it is the cemetary in which Hans Christian Andersen and Niels Bohr are buried. We finally figured out that it was a good kilometer from the city center and that there was no way we'd be able to make it there before it closed.
We were in the neighborhood of Somods Bolcher, a candy store in which one can watch them make the Danish hard candy. We even got a sample of the still-warm candy before it had hardened.
From there it was short walk to the Rundetårn (Round Tower). There is an observatory on top with public stargazing on selected nights. Given the cloud cover we experienced, I wouldn't be surprised if clear nights for observing are few and far between during the winter. However, the Rundetårn does offer some nice views of the city, even on a cloudy night. Perhaps its most distinctive feature is that one reaches the top not by climbing stairs but by walking up a spiral walkway.
Dinner for our last night in Denmark was at an Indonesian restaurant. Its attraction was that it had a rijsttafel, which is a traditional Indonesian sampling of many different foods, served in stages to one's table. From here it was on to Norway.
Part of our intention in visiting Norway was to take in some cross-country skiing. What could be a better place than the site of the 1994 Winter Olympics? Arriving in Oslo, the skiing situation looked pretty grim. Even though a World Cup Biathlon sprint meet had been held just outside of Oslo the previous weekend (while we were in Copenhagen), there had been rain and relatively warm temperatures so that little snow was left.
On the train ride north to Lillehammer, though, the situation brightened. As we climbed in altitude, there was more snow evident. Indeed it began to look more and more like what one might imagine of a Scandinvian forest in winter, with evergreens stretching for kilometers and snow blanketing the scene.
Arriving into Lillehammer and making our way to the hotel, we received our first surprise. The description of the hotel on its Web site suggests that one can step out the door and go cross-country skiing. Moreover, near Lillehammer there is supposed to be a series of trails lit for night cross-country skiing. These trails exist, but apparently one has to bring one's own equipment. We were told that the hotel didn't rent equipment nor did any place in town.
Thus, we wandered down into the town. If Lillehammer means "little hamlet," it is an accurate description, though not an entirely perjorative one. Like in Copenhagen, there is a main shopping street, the Storgata, where shopkeepers put out candles to brighten the nights. Fans of the Olympics may remember the Storgata as it was the site of many of the "flavor of the city" camera shots. Finding that our first and second choices for dinner were closed, we grabbed dinner at a tapas place and tried to get to bed early so as to arise in time to catch a bus up one of the mountains to the skiing.
Even with our early rising, we had two more unpleasant surprises. I had considerable trouble sleeping and awoke sneezing. At first we though my allergies had been set off by something, though the only thing we could imagine might be the bed sheets. Later we would come to realize that I had caught the common cold. Fortunately, when one does not think that one is sick, it is easier to deal with being sick.
Then, as we got to the bus station, we discovered that the bus up to the mountain Nordseter, the closer of the two mountains with skiing, was just leaving. (I believe that Nordseter was also the location of some of the Olympic events.) We missed it by no more than 30 seconds. Rather than wait the two hours for the next bus, we confirmed anybody's worst opinion of us as self-absorped yuppies by catching a cab to get up the mountain.
This was about 10:00 a.m. Finally figuring out the bus schedule, we realized that we had to be done skiing well before 3:00 p.m. in order to catch the last bus down the mountain. (One of the things that had caused us problems was that we had been looking at the winter high season bus schedule, so some of the busses that we thought were running, were not.) At first, we thought that having only until 3:00 p.m. incredibly limiting. In retrospect, there are no lighted trails on Nordseter, and we still got in probably 3--4 hrs. of skiing.
The attendent at the ski shop was quite helpful and made the excellent suggestion to take one of the trails headed west, away from the ski center. It was a bit hilly at first, the snow was a bit icy, and our lack of practice showed. Yet after a while, the trail flattened out. Then it was quite remarkable. Although winter, it was not yet "high" season. We were the only ones on the trail, during the entire time we were on it. If we paused, it was incredibly silent, and we could look out over the mountainside to Lake Mjosa. We made it about 2.5 km out before deciding to turn around and go back to the ski center for a lunch break.
Having hot chocolate, a cookie, and some granola bars, we shared the ski center with a bunch of Brits. At first we thought that they might be from the British ski team, but then I saw that one of them had a British Army identification card, and we wondered if they might be doing some kind of survival or winter training.
After lunch, we tried a couple of different trails, but we couldn't find any good ones. They were either too hilly or too icy. We eventually just returned to the trail we took originally. We didn't get far, though, before we had to turn around and head back to catch the bus.
Down in Lillehammer we wandered around a bit more, grabbed a pizza, and returned to the hotel. This night was the only clear night, and we stopped in a dark location on the way up the hill to the hotel. The stars were quite brilliant, the Big Dipper was much higher in the sky than at home, but we didn't see any Northern Lights.
The next day we took the train back to Oslo, we found the hotel, and prepared to head out to explore the city. By this time, it had started to rain and all of our bad memories about the summertime trips came flooding back. On top of dodging the rain drops, Oslo is a city under construction, so we had to keep winding our way through construction zones.
We started at the Det Kongelige Slottet (Royal Castle). Although called a castle, it doesn't have the turrets and walls that one normally associates with a castle. Rather it is essentially a large mansion. (Also notable was how open the castle appeared. In contrast to the ever-expanding security perimeter that the Secret Service is allowed to operate around the White House, there are few obvious signs of security and one can get fairly close to the castle.) We hung around a few minutes as there was some procession involving the guards. It wasn't the changing of the guard but looked close to some ceremony like that.
We then walked down Karl Johans Gate, the Norwegian equivalent of Pennslyvania Avenue, as it connects Det Kongelige Slottet and the Stortinget (Parliament). The Universitet sits on Karl Johans Gate, but it looked closed, so we escaped the rain in the Historisk Museum. It had some interesting exhibits on the Vikings, the Christianization of Norway, and the early Church in Norway. In one of the Viking exhibits were a bunch of children's books. Although I could not read the text, the pictures were clear. The book appeared to be a day in the life of a Viking child. All I could think was how skimpy their attire was. Does it ever get warm enough in Norway to wear just a single fur over one's torso?
Continuing down Karl Johans Gate, which is also a major shopping avenue, we found our way to the Christmas fair at the Youngstorget square. Unfortunately, it seemed that the prime time for the fair was over. Some of the stalls were closing down, even though there was another hour before the official closing time. Moreover, the city guide we had picked up at the airport suggested that the peak of the Christmas fair was the preceeding week. Finally, most of the items being sold are what I describe fondly as "dust collectors."
From Youngstorget we struggled out to the Akershus Slott og Festning (Akershus Castle and Fortress). We could tell that it was massive and majestic, sitting atop a hill overlooking the Oslo harbor. Through the rain and darkness, we couldn't tell much else. Walking down from Akershus, we spied the Rådhuset. At this point, we gave up.
The previous night we had called a number of restaurants hoping to get a reservation. Time and again, we were told that they were fully booked. We'd been trying to find a decent place to eat all day, peeking at restaurant menus as we walked past. Nothing was appealing to us, though, until we hit Terra. This was one of the restaurants on our list, though we had not called it. On a lark, we went in. We were early enough that we scored a table even though we did not have a reservation. This also turned out to be one of our best meals during the entire trip. We decided to try the same thing the next night.
I didn't particularly like any of the desserts at Terra, though. So after dinner we headed along Karl Johans Gate to the Mövenpick ice cream store.
Throughout the night, it rained even harder, but Friday dawned sunny. In daylight we discovered that our hotel was right around the corner from the Rådhuset and the Akershus. It can be amazing what one finds when it is not dark and rainy. Indeed, the sight of the harbor and the Oslo fjord from the Akershus is magnificent.
From the Akershus we walked along Bygdoy Allé. This is supposedly one of the more upscale shopping areas in the city, and it did seem to be a bit higher end that what we'd seen elsewhere. (Its name also reminds Jen of Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter series.)
From Bygdoy Allé we hiked up to Frogner Park, site of the Vigelandsparken. Gustav Vigeland is one of Norway's most famous sculptors. The park contains hundreds of the works he did during his life. They are supposed to depict people in all stages of life. Indeed, they do range in age from the celebrated Sinnateggen (The Angry Boy), who is a boy shown with a scrunched-up face and stomping his feet, to elderly. The poses range from what one might think of as a stoic Norwegian to people in various playful poses. They are also all nudes. (Once again, European sensibility: the nude human is not necessarily pornography.) The park also contains a sun dial, which we could use to tell time.
From Vigelandsparken, we caught the T-bane (tunnelbane, although it never went underground) to Holmenkollen. Last week it had been the site of a World Cup biathlon sprint, and it is also the site of regular ski jumping competitions. Several things were apparent. First, we potentially should have re-arranged our trip and done Norway before Denmark. While there was plenty of snow the previous week to host this biathlon competition, what little was left was just packed on the competition trail. We were able to take the elevator up the ski jump tower, which TV camera do not do justice in showing. The ski jumping landing area is incredibly steep. It makes sense, ski jumpers soar 60 meters or more, so a steep landing area means that they can touch down rather than slamming into the ground. However, it is so steep that from the top of the tower, one cannot see the landing area. Essentially the ski jumpers take off on faith that there will be ground below them. Finally, at Holmenkollen there is a ski museum that shows, among other things, the equipment used by various Norwegian Olympians over the years and the equipment used by a Norwegian who managed to walk alone across the Artic, from Canada to Russia(!).
From Holmenkollen, we took the T-bane back to the city center. Not being able to understand Norwegian, I couldn't follow everything that happened on the train. By this time, schools were starting to let out, and there were some students on the T-bane. It wasn't clear if they were just being loud and harmless, as students can be (as even the author may have been once upon a time), or if they were being obscene. Clearly, though, an older woman on the T-bane was upset with them. After giving them several dirty looks, which they studiously ignored, she said something to them. They ended up in what appeared to be at least civil, if not friendly, conversation. It was almost as if the students were demonstrating respect for elders.
Getting off the T-bane in the city center, we walked out to the Gamle Aker Kirke, passing by the Vår Frelsers Gravland. It was getting dark, so we didn't wander through this cemetery, but it looked like a fairly modern cemetery as one might find in the U.S. Originally constructed in the 12th century, the Gamle Aker Kirke was officially closed, but the door was open so that we could peek in. Our undergraduate history course had made the point that medieval churches were often much smaller and darker than Renaissance churches. I'm not sure I appreciated the difference until seeing this church. It was striking how dark the interior of this church was. There was also a cemetery on the grounds of the church. Though the church dates from the 12th century, there were no graves from that period; they were all considerably more recent.
By this point in the trip, Jen was not feeling so great, having picked up whatever I'd had earlier in the trip. We wanted to try our trick of showing up early at a restaurant to see if we could get a table. Unfortunately, the restaurant of choice, Oro, didn't open until sufficiently late that we didn't think that'd work. So we punted and had dinner at its adjoining Oro Bar.
I stayed in the conference hotel, the SAS Radisson Saga. A nice business hotel with wooden floors almost throughout, it offers free passes to nearby heated pools and hot pots.
Located on top of a hot water tank for the city, the Parlan offers a nice view (at least on clear days!) and reasonable food. The restaurant rotates slowly, which is usually not problematic, though I found if I concentrated on it, it could make me a bit queasy.
I was here only for the ice bar, which is a fun place to say that one has visited.
We skipped the opening reception of the Bioastronomy 2004 conference to eat here. The food was quite good, with some reviews describing it as being in the forefront of Icelandic restaurants.
A hip Asian fusion place with a menu heavily oriented toward seafood. Recommended highly.
We went here for lunch. Good food, though a bit of a hike from the city center and in a somewhat industrial part of town.
Nice, quiet hotel located sort of on a side street. The hotel itself occupies the upper floors of a building. The breakfast area is a bit small, which may not be a good thing for those slightly misanthropic types who aren't enthusiastic about being chatty in the morning. Good location for exploring the city.
A nice business hotel, with rooms having partially hardwood floors. This hotel was willing to get us the tickets to the DN Galan. Good location for exploring the city.
A vegetarian place in Södermalm. It features an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet, with excellent food, and a great view over Stockholm, though it is a bit out of the way.
A vegetarian place just off the main tourist shopping street, Västerlänggatan, it was clearly frequented by locals. Jen was enthusiastic about this place; I was a bit mixed. At the time, the best item on the menu appeared to be a salad. I have become a bit more cautious about eating salads overseas ever since Jen got quite sick from one on the Greek island of Santorini.
Jen declares their Swedish meatballs to be wonderful.
We forgot to look up the address for this restaurant but were able to find it anyway. Jen describes it as good but too heavy on the cream sauces.
We stayed in the Hotel Anna. It is located in a fairly quiet neighborhood and only a brief (at least for us :) walk to the downtown area.
Non-descript Italian restaurant in a shopping gallery
A somewhat formal restaurant, it had what seemed to be a reasonably authentic Finnish and/or Swedish menu.
An Italian restaurant in the Scandic Hotel, nothing spectacular
Good food, with a diverse menu; probably a somewhat neuvo-Finnish restaurant
We stayed in the Copenhagen Strand. It is a business hotel, which is not usually Jen's first choice, but it was the third or fourth hotel that we tried before we were able to find one with a room. It seemed like it was in a fairly quiet neighborhood, at least our room faced a back alley. Some of the rooms face the street and the canal/river, which might be a bit more noisy. It was only only a brief (at least for us :) walk to the downtown area.
We went to a pub off the Strøget.
A hip place with many tomato-based dishes (as one might imagine from the name) and an Asian flair. I was a bit underimpressed, although, we also got there early and ate in the bar area in order to get to sleep early that night. Jen sounds a bit more impressed, describing it as somewhat eclectic (which is a good recommendation).
A Mediterrean restaurant where we had lunch. Recommended highly, in fact, I would have returned to it, though it can be a bit hard to find.
An Indonesian restaurant, right off the Kongens Nytorv, Jen likes their riestaffl.
We stayed at the Birkebeineren Hotel, Motel, and Apartments. It is a functional enough place, but bring your own skis!
Many of the restaurants in our guidebook were closed. We wondered later if they close during the low season and re-open for the ski season in January.
A Spanish restaurant featuring tapas, it wasn't bad, although the menu seemed a bit limited.
I'm not quite sure that this is the name of the place, but after a day of skiing, pizza hit the spot.
We stayed in the First Hotel Millennium. Like the Copenhagen Strand, it is a business hotel, which is not usually Jen's first choice, but it was the third or fourth hotel that we tried before we were able to find one with a room. It is extremely centrally located, being only steps from many of the major sites downtown, but it seems like it could be noisy as well.
A glorified cafeteria, it still had a good selection of food, and it looked like it was frequented by locals.
A Mediterrean restaurant, with reasonably good food and a nice menu. However, it seems a bit pricey for the actual quality of the food.
Good ice cream!
The Oro restaurant is supposedly one of the hottest places in Oslo. However, Jen was not feeling well, we couldn't get reservations, and it opened later than we wanted to wait. The Oro Bar adjoins the Oro restaurant and has a tapas-style menu. It was not bad, but also nothing spectacular.