If I had come from Sydney, I’m sure I would have been smitten
by beautiful Stockholm. But coming from Dili means I’m not only smitten, I’m
completely seduced. I’ve been stumbling around the city drooling at the perfect
cafes and prim sausage dogs on leashes… leashes! I had forgotten how great
fresh milk in coffee tastes and the pleasures of wandering around a city where
your biggest concern is to not fall over on the picturesque cobblestones or
get hit by a hipster on a bike.
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| Site of my first Stockholm coffee |
Unfortunately, although the rest of me loves to travel, my
right ankle does not. Just as it did when I arrived in Timor, it’s decided to
get swollen and sore (an old netball/general uncoordination injury), which
means I am not just stumbling and drooling my way around Stockholm but limping
as well. It’s like the Hunchback of Notre Dame except instead of people jeering
at me they keep trying to speak Swedish – the response from me is the same, a
Quasimodo-esque shrug.
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| Buskers in tonally matching outfits with hats AND suspenders |
I’m sure it’s been said many times before, but the people of
Stockholm are ridiculously good-looking. It’s like someone decided to make a
really compelling advertisement for socialist government, and cast it with
about a million genetically blessed beings. Paid maternity leave LOOKS GOOD
people.
Aside from stumbling around, I’ve been indulging in the
almighty trifecta of things you can’t get in Dili (not easily, anyway) – dairy
products, lounging in parks and museum hopping. I’ve slipped back into my old
habits of buying postcards I don’t need at museum shops and seeing what the
world looks like from a soft patch of grass. I’ve got to say, this developed
country stuff is pretty alluring.
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| Just another perfect street |
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