Norway and Sweden: Beyond the Clichés

You’ve heard it before, and you’ll probably hear it again: Norway and Sweden are beautiful places to visit – as long as you can rob a bank before you go, that is. And when you get there, of course, you’ll be surrounded by beautiful, blonde, slightly reserved men and women, who have modern views on the environment and gender equality, and drive electric-powered Volvos whilst listening to ABBA. But how much of this is actually true? Two Wolverhampton girls and a little Skoda hatchback embarked on a Scandinavian adventure to find out.

Money, Money, Money

Two Swedish clichés in one here, but both are kind of true: the cost of living in Sweden is extortionate, and ABBA is still tooted as the best breakthrough Sweden ever made in the global music scene. Having said that, to be fair to the Swedes, they are doing their best to make the world aware that they’re very much in the 21^st Century these days. In the arrivals hall of Stockholm airport, for example, you’ll find a series of photo portraits of modern Swedish celebrities, and even a clever little speaker hanging down from the ceiling to create a little sound pod playing songs by Avicii.

As for the money side of things: you can do Sweden on a budget, but don’t be surprised if this means preparing your own meals, or at least sacrificing those fancy dinners out you might usually treat yourself with on your holidays. In Stockholm, we stopped for lunch in a cute little place called Sundbergs Konditori that, despite being the city’s oldest bakery-café, was recommended as a budget option by Lonely Planet. For standard lunch food, we paid what you’d expect to pay for an evening meal in any normal city outside of London.

Oslo, surprisingly, seemed even worse for our bank balances; a canteen-style lunch (mains only, no drinks) set us back the equivalent of around £15 per person. Even the supermarkets, though not as astronomically expensive as the restaurants, are pricey enough to cause a wince and sharp intake of breath at the checkout as you part with your cash.

 

With our canteen food!

 

Blonde and Beautiful

A stereotype we all love to believe, this one, disappointingly, proved only half true. However, since we’re making sweeping statements here, I might as well go ahead and say that, generally speaking, Stockholm seems to have the best pick of local hotties out of all the cities we visited in the two countries. At times it did feel like everywhere we turned was another Nordic beauty – although it’s worth noting that they didn’t seem to be any more blonde-haired or blue-eyed than in any other city in Europe.

 Stockholm

The Cool, Nordic Reserve

I have to say on that this one is a bit of an urban legend; true, you probably won’t spark up a conversation with a stranger here, but is that really a common thing now in any part of the world? We found both the Norwegians and the Swedes to be open, chatty and friendly people. Staying in Airbnb accommodation for almost the entire trip, we met some genuinely lovely people, who were keen to find out about us and our culture as well as share their own.

Near Molde, Sweden

Everyone Drives a Volvo

Although Volvo is purportedly one of the top six most popular car brands in Sweden, it is not, contrary to common perception, a complete obsession. I’m not much of a car fanatic, I must admit, but I can’t say I noticed a shocking percentage Volvos on the road – in fact, what we saw most of were shiny new 4x4s, especially (and somewhat incongruously) in inner city Stockholm.

After speaking to an American on the train to Gatwick, who’d spent a significant amount of time in Norway, we were also expecting to see an overwhelming amount of electric cars over there. Disappointingly, we found this wasn’t the case, at least on the long drives we were doing through the mountains; although logically, an electric car would be a poor choice for any kind of long distance driving, where petrol stations are few and far between, let alone electricity points for eco cars. An interesting conversation with one of our Airbnb hosts up in the northern fjords, however, did reveal that electric cars are much more popular in rural areas, and that the government has introduced some generous tax incentives, particularly to companies who use them as their company vehicles – hence why ownership of electric cars is on the rise.

Hiking Preikestolen (Pulpit Rock)

Twee and Country vs. Modern and Minimalist

As far as I can tell, Scandinavian lifestyle and architecture is perceived by the rest of the world as falling into one of two camps. Firstly, there is the idea that Nordic people are rustic, hunter-gatherer types, whose favourite pastimes constitute elk hunting and fishing, and who live in quaint wooden houses in the middle of nowhere.

Believe it or not, there is an element of truth to all this – taken with a pinch of salt, of course. Swedes and Norwegians do indeed love the outdoors, and it is even written in the law that the public may have access to private land for recreational purposes, provided they treat said land respectfully. They also show an impressive amount of concern for sustainability and the environment, with widespread awareness of key issues like recycling and responsible energy consumption.

As far as the houses are concerned: examples of the archetypal colourful wooden house can still be found in many places across the two countries, particularly in more rural areas. In the cities, however, such as Stockholm, a series of devastating fires across the ages has led to their reconstruction in brick and stone.

Perhaps this is the origin of the opposing stereotype: that of modern, functional and understated architecture with clean lines and minimal, Ikea-style furniture. I have to say, I did get the impression in both Sweden and Norway that this style isn’t so much a trend as a way of life. It’s logical, of course, that the living spaces of a population be a reflection of the way of life and ideals that are prevalent in that country. Nevertheless, it’s incredible to see to what extent the Swedish concept of lagom (‘just enough’) is physically manifested in their architecture and furnishings. All the Airbnb properties in which we stayed followed this model of interior design, regardless of the age or profession of the owners.

The two wildly opposing images of Sweden and Norway – as modern, technologically advanced states or as a collection of antiquated rural communities – may seem a strange juxtaposition, but it’s surprising how well these two concepts work hand in hand. There may be a lot of remote villages and towns dotted around the Nordic countries, but they are well connected by advanced infrastructure and innovative technology. The roads, even in the deepest depths of the countryside, are efficient and well maintained. We lost count of the number of tunnels we passed through in Norway (there are over 900 in total), each of them incredible feats of engineering, boring straight through kilometre upon kilometre of mountain. It goes without saying that the famous Atlantic Ocean Road, which bisects the Norwegian archipelago in Møre og Romsdal and consists of tiny islands connected by causeways, viaducts and bridges, is not only an amazing feat of engineering but – and I’ve never said this about a road in my life – a beauty to behold. The Trollstigen Mountain Road is astonishing in its own way, consisting of 11 hairpin bends down the mountainside. Each new turn felt like entering a new level of Mario Kart, whether we were cruising down endless stretches of open road, zooming over sky-scraping bridges or contemplating hairpin bends and a sheer drop.

What Else I’ve Learned

Now, while there are plenty of stereotypes to give you idea of what you might be able to expect when holidaying in Norway and Sweden, there are also a fair amount of things I’ve learned on my short trip that no one ever really tells you about.

1. The Swedes, in particular, are late risers. This may come as a bit of a shock, especially when you consider their reputation of efficiency, but there you have it. So if you’re planning a shopping trip, you may as well lie in, because most shops don’t even open until 10am.
2. Manners are important here. It’s customary to take off your shoes when entering someone’s home – and while your host may not be so bold as to tell you off for not doing so, they may silently think you’re a bit rude.
3. In the same vein, there are some traditions on etiquette that have proven very hard to shake, despite their impracticality. The one that stands out to me may surprise you: curtains. Once upon a time, it was considered unseemly to have curtains – after all, drawn curtains imply you have something to hide, right? Unfortunately, for some unknown reason, in the countries of the Midnight Sun, this tradition has somehow stood the test of time, meaning that despite the fact there are only a couple of hours of darkness in the summer months, in most homes there are no curtains to be found.
4. For all their reputation of being reserved and uptight, the Nordic people favour casual dressing, even in professional settings.
5. Meatballs and fish are popular here, but so is coffee – particularly in Sweden, where they take so many coffee breaks, they’ve created a word for the purpose – fika, which works as both a verb and a noun.

The Verdict

Norway and Sweden both surprised and charmed me. The people are friendly and welcoming (and everyone speaks English); the landscapes are out of this world. A holiday in Scandinavia is unlikely be a cheap one, but if you’re a bit savvy, you can visit without breaking the bank.

Staying in Airbnb accommodation is a great way to get to know local people and experience their way of life, whilst doing a self-drive, though tiring and time-consuming, is absolutely the best way to see the place. I’m sure cruises across the fjords are wonderful, but in a car you are able to see the fjords from up in the mountains, and have the freedom to take the roads less travelled. The ferries across the fjords aren’t cheap (around £10 a pop), but they’re frequent and efficient, so you can still enjoy the experience of crossing the fjords by boat.

If I could do the trip again, the only thing I would ask for is more time. There is so much to see and experience that ten days was really only enough to give us a taste of what is on offer. So, visit Scandinavia, but you’ll need more than just a good budget to really experience it. Take with you a flexible itinerary affording you the luxury to stay longer in places you can’t bring yourself to leave, take some good tunes to entertain you on some very long drives, but most importantly, take with you an open mind, and prepare to be amazed.

Day 2: Famous Landmarks of Delhi

On the second morning, we were introduced to our tour group, a friendly mishmash of couples, friends and singletons of all ages, from former British colonies all over the world. It was somewhat a relief that, for the next six days, we would be exploring India under the supervision of a local guide and within the relative safety of the tourist herd. It was the first time I’d ever done a guided tour across a country, and I must admit I’d been sceptical despite the obvious advantages compared with travelling across India just the two of us. In the face of my cynicism, I discovered it was an amazing way to experience the country – especially as a first-time visitor – with a local guide who really knew what he was talking about and a lovely group of like-minded people.

During the drive into Old Delhi (in itself quite a mind-boggling experience) we drove past the first of many idols we were to see during the course of the trip – an enormous statue of the deity Krishna, the much-fabled incarnation of the Hindu deity Shiva. After escaping the chaos of the dual carriageway, we picked our way through a local market, beeping the horn (standard driving practice in India) to part the crowds. We looked on in amazement as the chaos unfolded in front, behind and to either side of the coach, and the crowds looked up with equal measures of wonderment at the wide-eyed, white-faced tourists pressed against the glass. It was like being at the zoo; only I’m still not too sure which side of the bars we would have been on in this analogy.

 

            I might as well take this opportunity to add that, despite the stock I’d put in the safety in numbers theory, the ‘selfie’ phenomenon of the day before was, if anything, worse that day. From the outset, I had people (mostly slightly creepy men) coming up to me to request to have their photo taken with me, and this only got worse as the day went on – the most bizarre instances of which included being asked to be photographed with a guy’s terrified-looking little boy, and groups of people just taking my photo without even asking. By the end of it, I was getting so fed up that I decided the best solution was to release my inner diva, put on my shades and drape my shawl over my head like some kind of Mariah Carey wannabe.

After almost an hour of crawling through the Delhi traffic, we finally arrived at the imposing Red Fort. Now only a mere skeleton of its glory days serving as the city fortress and subsequently the British army barracks, this sandstone and marble fort was constructed by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan between 1638 and 1648 to protect his new capital city, the modestly and imaginatively named Shahjahanabad. Unfortunately for him, he never actually got to live there, since his son (whom some call ‘disloyal’; I call ‘rational’) imprisoned him at Agra Fort to stop him spending any more of the country’s rapidly dwindling riches.

The last Mughal emperor of Delhi, Bahadur Shah Zafar, was ousted from the Red Fort in 1857, and the fort was taken over by the British (who else?) until India regained independence in 1947. Despite no longer being in use, the fort is well worth a visit; it’s easy to see why it has been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, with its dramatic red stone walls extending over 2km and reaching a height of 32m at some points along this length.

 

            It just so happened that the day we were there also coincided with a classic cars show that was taking place in the outer courtyard. If I knew anything about cars, I’d probably have been very excited about this; our tour guide Satendra certainly was. At any rate, I did sneak a few snaps of the wealthy businessmen polishing their shiny metal toys:

From the Red Fort, we were shown onto a fleet of cycle rickshaws awaiting us at the gates, which would take us to the next stop on our itinerary, Jama Masjid. The largest mosque in India, and the final architectural blowout of the extravagant Shah Jahan, Jama Masjid or ‘Friday Mosque’ boasts three gateways, four towers and two minarets standing at a whopping 40m high. As usual, the Shah employed his two materials of choice, red sandstone and white marble, to create this colossal complex, which can hold up to 25,000 people.

Unfortunately, by the time we got there the heavens had unexpectedly opened, rendering the visiting experience slightly less enjoyable – particularly as visitors are obliged to remove their shoes upon entering the courtyard. On the plus side, we did also have to don some very sexy gowns and shawls, so at least the rest of our bodies were kept nice and dry, even if we did get rather soggy feet. Another benefit of having a tour guide is that we had someone to guard our shoes while we took a look around; leave them unattended and they’re sure to get swiped.

 

Then it was time to head to Raj Ghat, the gardens now serving as a memorial to Mahatma Gandhi, as he was assassinated here on 30^th January 1948. Incidentally, what you might not know (as I certainly didn’t) is that Gandhi’s actual name was Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi – the honorific appellation ‘Mahatma’, meaning ‘high-souled’ or ‘venerable’ was first given to him in South Africa in 1914.

Gandhi was assassinated by a Hindu zealot at point blank range; it was customary for Indians to pay respect to their elders by kneeling at their feet, and so, under this pretence, Gandhi’s killer was able to get so close he couldn’t possibly miss. A somewhat cowardly way of going about it, if you ask me – and Gandhi’s alleged last words, “Oh God” (which sound to me more like a blurted curse than the profound utterance of a holy man), don’t really seem to merit their fame either. Of course, it’s natural to wish to glorify the death of someone so influential and so inherently good, but I do think that, given the amount of really poignant statements Gandhi made throughout his lifetime, this was a poor choice of quotation to use as his epitaph.

The rest of the memorial was very well done – since the traditional Indian funeral proceeding is to cast the person’s ashes into the River Ganges, Gandhi is commemorated by a large black stone surrounded by lush, symmetrical gardens. Visitors can remove their shoes and walk right up to the stone, or ascend a ramp leading to an open veranda lined with colourful flowers, which surrounds the memorial.

 

We subsequently moved on to Humayun’s Tomb, a site in which many future architectural creations, including the great Taj Mahal, find their origin. This elaborate tomb complex was constructed in 1565 by the Mughal Emperor Humayun’s widow, Hamida Banu Begum, nine years after his death, and was the first garden style tomb to be constructed in India. The tomb stands in the centre of vast, Charbagh-style Persian gardens, split into perfectly symmetrical segments, and linked by channels. This deliberate geometrical scheme consisting of four identical parts separated by wide paths and flowing channels (representing the river of Paradise) served as a powerful metaphor for the Paradise Garden.

The first of its kind, Humayun’s Tomb went on to serve as the prototype for many other Mughal tombs, on which similar techniques were employed, such as the use of red sandstone, the central building’s octagonal shape and its high central arch. The very idea of constructing a mausoleum in honour of a loved one is the central foundation stone behind the creation of the Taj Mahal.

 

            The last stop on the itinerary for that day was the Qutb complex, which was constructed by Qutb-ud-din Aybak, one of the founders of Muslim rule in India. It was built in the early 13^th century and comprises funerary buildings, two mosques, and the Qutb Minar, a 72.5m-high minaret. The Quwwatu’l-Islam mosque is the oldest in northern India and was made from materials looted from around 20 Brahman temples. Some of the stones bearing religious icons have even been inserted upside down in a clear manifestation of the new rulers’ derision of their Hindu enemies.

Before making our way back to the hotel, we drove through New Delhi, which was built as the imperial capital of India under British rule and completed in 1931. A stark contrast to Old Delhi, this part of the city is all wide, tree-lined avenues, parks and fountains, and has a comparatively European feel. We took a drive through Connaught Place (Rajiv Chowk) and Connaught Circus (Indira Chowk), which form the business and tourist centre. In addition, we stopped to take a look at governmental buildings such as the official residence of the President of India, which stands at one end of Delhi’s famous boulevard, Rajpath. At the other end stands the impressive 42m-high India Gate, one of those ‘Arc de Triomphe’ constructions that seem to pop up everywhere, which commemorates the Indian soldiers who fell in WWI.

That evening was our Namaste dinner, which consisted of many courses of traditional Indian food – bhutta palak (creamed spinach), paneer makhani (curd cheese), mushroom matar, jeera aloo (lightly fried caraway-seasoned potatoes) and dal tadka (spiced yellow lentils), served with naan bread, of course. We were also treated to an Indian dessert, gulab jamun, a sickly sweet donut-like creation, made from khoya (a mysterious dairy product) fried until golden and finished with a touch of saffron.

After the meal, it was time to head back to the hotel – and time for a quick reminder of the fact that we were staying in what I can only presume to be one of the most chaotic cities on earth. It’s lucky I’m used to and can accept that, when you’re travelling to far-flung places, things might not necessarily meet your high standards of Western living. For example, after living in Peru and washing in cold water for a month, I now consider hot water a blessing, rather than a given. It was therefore not the end of the world when we’d arrived in Delhi in the middle of the night only to discover that the hot water was turned off between the hours of 11pm and 6am. Unlike many fussier travellers, I also accept that, in a place like Delhi, which is so pushed for space, it would be unrealistic to expect a room with a view or, indeed, a room with a window at all.

In a similar vein, I was about to discover that, Delhi being so full to the brim, and the hotels built so compactly, this also meant that the hotel conference room would be located directly above the third-floor rooms. This is all very well and good when the hotel is hosting, say, a conference, in the middle of the day. When it’s hosting a party in the middle of the night, not so much. After a long, jet-lagged day, I was just drifting into a lovely sleep when I was jarred awake by what sounded like an earthquake going on right above our heads. Had the music been pleasant, the situation might have been bearable, but the fact was, this was far from being a soothing melody to lull me to sleep. No, this was relentless bass, so loud it shook the very walls of our little windowless cell of a room. The melody line was just strong enough for me to make out, at one point, the dulcet tones of that Daddy Yankee reggaeton classic, Gasolina.

When Laura and I went down to reception, bleary-eyed, confused and dismayed, the men at the desk just looked at us with expressions of mild amusement and told us it would be over in “about half an hour”. Naturally, there was no chance of switching rooms as they were all allegedly booked up. We had no choice but to trudge dejectedly back to our room, wait for our room to stop shaking and wait for that long-awaited sleep to come.