June 20 – Second day at sea.
June 21 – Even just from the sail-in alone, I like Stockholm better than Oslo. I mean, fjords are fascinating from a geological standpoint but they ain’t much to look at. It's just a lot of long, flat, green land. At least the coast of Stockholm is populated.
The Constellation staff unanimously suggests the bus as the way to get into the city centre, but Sarah found a hop-on hop-off ferry that runs a good circuit around Stockholm and could pick us up about three hundred meters away from the gangplank. She’s amazing for that type of thing; it’s not the first time she’d been more informed than the staff about how best to export a port. We stay on for a circuit, getting a feel for the city and an understanding of the layout. At first, I think that my only reason for preferring Stockholm over Oslo is because we’re not getting hosed down with rain, but as we ride along I start to understand that it’s because Stockholm is just hands-down a prettier city. The architecture is more varied and the colour is more adventurous. Sarah and her dad liken it to Geneva. Having never been there, the best comparator I can offer is Florence.
After the waterborne tour, we hop off the hop-on hop-off at the Vasa Musuem. The Vasa was among four vessels commissioned by King Gustavus Adolphus in 1626. Construction commenced, but then dragged on for a few extra years as the King demanded more and more ornamentation, as well as another entire deck of cannons, until the vessel was covered in carvings and incredibly top-heavy. It was intended to demonstrate the majesty and power of Sweden and her army. Upon launch, amid the fanfare and revelry of the general populace, the boat left port, took two left turns, then sank to the bottom of the harbour. In the mid 1900s, the Vasa was located and then brought to the surface. Due to the brackishness of the water [for you non-nautical types, that means that it is a mix of salt and fresh water; salt water is BAD for wooden ships while fresh isn’t as bad- S)], it’s in remarkably good condition.
Also remarkable is the forensic work that’s been done on the skeletons recovered from the ship. Not only have they performed facial reconstructions, but from the DNA they can say things like, “Ulaf was a hunchback. His diet was composed mainly of rye bread and crayfish. It's likely he suffered from anemia and diarrhea.” Stuff like this makes me realize I’m drawn to irreverence wherever I go. I latch on to things like the loose bowels of those long dead. Or, example two: while looking at the crew manifest, I summon everyone around me so I can point out that one guy’s given title was ‘flogging master.’ This stuff makes for a funny story but it’s probably done at the expense of my absorbing and actually understanding the culture.
Next, we take the ferry to the Gamla Stan, which is the oldest part of the city. There is a good walking tour provided by the Rick Steves’ Scandinavia book, and we sort of follow it but also sort of don’t. We find a microbrewery/pub and stop for some hangry-preventing food. There are about fifteen local beers to try, but unfortunately when we ask for a recommendation the waitress assumes we’re Bud-swilling knuckleheads, so she serves up what was probably just Carlsberg Light. Decent food, though. Also worth mentioning: the local tax rate is TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT.
June 22 – Helsinki, and our second time change in as many days, but who’s counting? Sarah has found us more hop-on op-off transportation—a bus this time—and after a short tour of the city we get off at the Temple Square Church (or Temppeliaukio Kirkko, for all my Finnish peeps out there). It’s a Lutheran Church hewn out of a rock edifice, and it's better seen than described. I’d been pre-warned that today would be a day of churches (and thought greaaaaaaaat), but it’s a gorgeous structure that we don’t spend nine hours in, so we’re off to a good start. Church 2 is the Tuomiokirkko (Lutheran Church of Finland). It’s very large inside, grand that way, but also very simple. Sarah and I have the following conversation:
Having hit all the sites we’d intended to, there’s talk of heading back to the ship. I decide I’d like to find an Internet café, and as luck would have it there’s one almost directly beside a stop for the hop-on hop-off bus. This means that even a dumb ass like me can get back to the ship no problem. But knowing my track record for getting lost, Sarah presses a five euro note into my hand, “Just in case.” I go back to the café, demonstrate my ignorance of time zones, then get back to ship via bus… which is a good because, having no real concept of where the ship is, five euros wouldn't have helped me in any way. I only would have accosted strangers saying, “I have five euros. I’m somewhere where I don’t know where I am. Please help me.”
June 21 – Even just from the sail-in alone, I like Stockholm better than Oslo. I mean, fjords are fascinating from a geological standpoint but they ain’t much to look at. It's just a lot of long, flat, green land. At least the coast of Stockholm is populated.
Fun Ship Fact
The world posh comes the early days of cruising, where certain super-rich folks would change staterooms halfway through the trip, so as to ensure minimum sun exposure. They’d ride port outward, and starboard home.
The Constellation staff unanimously suggests the bus as the way to get into the city centre, but Sarah found a hop-on hop-off ferry that runs a good circuit around Stockholm and could pick us up about three hundred meters away from the gangplank. She’s amazing for that type of thing; it’s not the first time she’d been more informed than the staff about how best to export a port. We stay on for a circuit, getting a feel for the city and an understanding of the layout. At first, I think that my only reason for preferring Stockholm over Oslo is because we’re not getting hosed down with rain, but as we ride along I start to understand that it’s because Stockholm is just hands-down a prettier city. The architecture is more varied and the colour is more adventurous. Sarah and her dad liken it to Geneva. Having never been there, the best comparator I can offer is Florence.
After the waterborne tour, we hop off the hop-on hop-off at the Vasa Musuem. The Vasa was among four vessels commissioned by King Gustavus Adolphus in 1626. Construction commenced, but then dragged on for a few extra years as the King demanded more and more ornamentation, as well as another entire deck of cannons, until the vessel was covered in carvings and incredibly top-heavy. It was intended to demonstrate the majesty and power of Sweden and her army. Upon launch, amid the fanfare and revelry of the general populace, the boat left port, took two left turns, then sank to the bottom of the harbour. In the mid 1900s, the Vasa was located and then brought to the surface. Due to the brackishness of the water [for you non-nautical types, that means that it is a mix of salt and fresh water; salt water is BAD for wooden ships while fresh isn’t as bad- S)], it’s in remarkably good condition.
Also remarkable is the forensic work that’s been done on the skeletons recovered from the ship. Not only have they performed facial reconstructions, but from the DNA they can say things like, “Ulaf was a hunchback. His diet was composed mainly of rye bread and crayfish. It's likely he suffered from anemia and diarrhea.” Stuff like this makes me realize I’m drawn to irreverence wherever I go. I latch on to things like the loose bowels of those long dead. Or, example two: while looking at the crew manifest, I summon everyone around me so I can point out that one guy’s given title was ‘flogging master.’ This stuff makes for a funny story but it’s probably done at the expense of my absorbing and actually understanding the culture.
Next, we take the ferry to the Gamla Stan, which is the oldest part of the city. There is a good walking tour provided by the Rick Steves’ Scandinavia book, and we sort of follow it but also sort of don’t. We find a microbrewery/pub and stop for some hangry-preventing food. There are about fifteen local beers to try, but unfortunately when we ask for a recommendation the waitress assumes we’re Bud-swilling knuckleheads, so she serves up what was probably just Carlsberg Light. Decent food, though. Also worth mentioning: the local tax rate is TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT.
June 22 – Helsinki, and our second time change in as many days, but who’s counting? Sarah has found us more hop-on op-off transportation—a bus this time—and after a short tour of the city we get off at the Temple Square Church (or Temppeliaukio Kirkko, for all my Finnish peeps out there). It’s a Lutheran Church hewn out of a rock edifice, and it's better seen than described. I’d been pre-warned that today would be a day of churches (and thought greaaaaaaaat), but it’s a gorgeous structure that we don’t spend nine hours in, so we’re off to a good start. Church 2 is the Tuomiokirkko (Lutheran Church of Finland). It’s very large inside, grand that way, but also very simple. Sarah and I have the following conversation:
S – “Lutheran churches are Dulls-ville.”Church 3 is the Uspenski Cathedral. Super Byzantine and not my style at all. Nice from the outside, though.
D – “I think I actually prefer this style.”
S – “Well, you’re not much of a Catholic.”
D – “And you’re just figuring this out now?”
S – “Hey now, you’re more Catholic than anything else.”
D – “But I’m not much of one. I’m also more of a man than anything else, but I’m still not much of a man.
S – “True.”
Having hit all the sites we’d intended to, there’s talk of heading back to the ship. I decide I’d like to find an Internet café, and as luck would have it there’s one almost directly beside a stop for the hop-on hop-off bus. This means that even a dumb ass like me can get back to the ship no problem. But knowing my track record for getting lost, Sarah presses a five euro note into my hand, “Just in case.” I go back to the café, demonstrate my ignorance of time zones, then get back to ship via bus… which is a good because, having no real concept of where the ship is, five euros wouldn't have helped me in any way. I only would have accosted strangers saying, “I have five euros. I’m somewhere where I don’t know where I am. Please help me.”
Comments
Churches can be very interesting. Some of the most interesting churches are the smallest, least decorated.
I'll tell you the story of the one in Pinhau one day. The one that we thought was supposed to be a castle, but wasn't.
(Oh wait. That was MY trip to Spain. Sorry.)