Stockholm

by

Monday, 17 November 2014

As always, getting from home to Stockholm was a superb approximation of sheer physical torture, but as always I made it. Very little sleep for well over 24 hours. Colleague Joel was on the same flight from Newark. It landed at 7:30, and we had a meeting at 9:30, so we took a taxi direct from the airport to Kista. Gray, cloudy day. We passed a thermometer somewhere that said +5 (degrees C, that would be), which is within 2 or 3 degrees of the day’s high and the overnight low, predicted for all week. ‘Tis okay.

Several meetings, worth while, even though I can hardly see straight. Lunch at the Kista Galleria food court with Stefan, Nick and Joel. But by 2, it was time to go off to the nearby Pressbyran, buy a week of transit pass, take the T-Bana subway to Gamla Stan (old town) and seek out my hotel. Along the Riddarsholmen waterfront, not that far.

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My room. Yes, the hotel is a ship, a yacht that was once owned by Barbara Hutton. I came across it while searching for hotel reservations, and thought it would be a bit different from the usual.

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The portholes look out over the water, but they are high enough that I have to stand on tiptoe to see anything but sky.

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This is the last cabin in the stern, the shape of the ship clearly tapering off.

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After a nap, I’m up for a walk around somewhere. I may just end up at the hotel bar… we’ll see.

Later …

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I didn’t bring my real camera along this time. The iPhone camera is not up to the same standards, but it is surprisingly good, better than one would have a right to expect, given the minuscule lens and depth.

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I wandered Gamla Stan looking for maybe an interesting place to eat. Lots of kebab places, but that’s what I had for lunch, and it was a big lunch. I stood looking at one menu, and decided I was not hungry. Thai restaurant for later this week, but I really am not hungry now. I have been eating too much, that’s what! But a brew would not be amiss.

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Ended up at Liffey pub, where they steadfastly ignored me until I went to the bar, where I ordered a Paulaner Hefe. There was a space on the charge slip for a tip, but why?

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Tried for a night picture of the Riddarsholmen Kirk on the way back. That miniscopic cell phone camera really is pretty, pretty good.

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Even its flash isn’t bad.

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