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Mesmerized by the ugliest monument ever

It’s been a week since I’ve arrived in Stockholm. I’ve mostly walked and taken the local transit around town to see the city. The city is surprisingly smaller than I thought it would be. Mostly centered around the royal palace and shopping districts.

The people here are as rumours foretold: glamourous, stylish and beautiful. A few centuries of war, famine and disease have done well to clean out the gene pool. Most days, I meet Liam for lunch. We typically grab some take-out and sit in the park with his co-workers. The park is always full of people and there’s even a bar in one of the parks near Stureplan. I spent one lazy afternoon sitting at a floating bar by the water and even took a nap on the bench.

I spent yesterday afternoon wandering around Södermalms, one of the islands in Stockholm. There are so many islands in this archipelago I can imagine spending a few weeks just sailing around them all. I walked up and down the cobblestoned streets, for a few hours until resting at a small Indian food restaurant and sat outside for a mid-afternoon snack. Feeling my way around, I continued through the backstreets and wound up in a small city park that had a large fountain. The fountain had a sculpture of a viking beating down a dragon that spewed out water.

One of the great things about Sweden is all the public people spaces they have. Large squares, fountains, sculptures and various other centerpieces. In the round-about near the center of it all, there is a large (very ugly) monument in a fountain. Then there are benches lined up on the sidewalk for people to just sit and watch the fountain. It’s great for people watching too.

Today, I’m heading over to Djurgården island and maybe try to take in a couple museums or castles. Most of Europe can be described by a continent of museums and architecture. I’ve decided to extend my trip by a week to visit Vienna and Prague. I’ll be leaving for Zurich on Friday morning.

Je suis en France. C’est le printemps et les fleurs sont fleurissant. C’est le première fois que j’ai voyagé à Paris. Without the right keyboard, its difficult to continue typing in French.

I landed in Paris early Tuesday morning. I had about 6 hours to kill before my flight to Stockholm so I decided to venture into the city for lunch. In the travel guide I had, it said there was a Pho restaurant tucked away on a side street in the Quartier Latin on rue Galande. If there’s one thing I need to try in Paris, its a big bowl of beef noodle soup!

It’s about 45 minutes to get into the city. After wandering the expansive terminals, I found the ticket booth and managed to purchase a ticket for 8,40 Euros and hop on the train bound for St. Michel Blvd. There, after stumbling through the subway terminals with my large backpack on, I went up the 8 stories (so it seemed) of escalators and walked into the most awe-strickening scene I have yet to remember. C’etait merveilleux la scène!

The architecture of the buildings were amazing. Medieval in style, castle-like in structure, the buildings rose above the streets. Packed cafes were brimming with tourists, sipping espressos out of tiny little cups. Scooters blazed by, leaving behind that distinctive sound of their motors. The smaller side streets were all cobble-stoned and took on a spirit of its own, running in any direction it pleased. I walked by Sorbonne University which was sitting amid the other buildings, wonderfully decadent and perennial in architecture. I circled the building but avoided the streams of tourists, mostly because I was trying to avoid contracting H1N1.

I picked a cobbled street at random and let the street guide me, not knowing where I’d end up. The streets were narrow and the sidewalks even more so. I hugged the curb trying not to knock anyout out when I turned and swung my backpack. Every so often, I’d check my iPhone for WiFi coverage. Paris apparently has free WiFi in the city (though I’ve yet to be successful in connecting).

I took left turns when I felt like it, and right turns when I saw something interesting. The streets bended and circled but I never felt lost. Like the Earth’s magnetic pull, I felt a tug towards the scent of beef balls. I endured the weight of my backpack for a little while longer, pausing briefly to admire or snap a photo of an interesting alleyway. In Europe, corridors of alleys have existed for centuries all waiting for me to take a photo of them. I paused before crossing the next street and looked up at the street signs: ‘Rue Galande’ it read. I smiled in part relief for having found the right street.

On a Tuesday afternoon, the neighbourhood was quieter. Perhaps it gets busier on weekends, or maybe I’ve just stumbled into a less popular area. I walked up in the direction where I thought my Viet-Parisian cousins would be, and sure enough there it was: Pho 67. What a strange name, I thought. What is the importance of 67 in Paris? As it turns out, that was the year Ho Chi Minh led the Tet Offensive and laid siege to South Vietnam. Wait a minute, this restaurant was a communist haven! Goddam commie lovers. And a bowl of Pho cost 13,00 euros! Who in their right mind pays that much for Pho, let alone Communist Pho? So, I went across the street and ate at the Italian cafe.

I stopped by L’Institut du Monde Arab for a quick look, then came back around to the train station to get back to the airport. After taking a brief nap on the most uncomfortable chair in the world, I got on a plane and headed to my next stop: Stockholm, Sweden. Liam has promised me meatballs and blonde haired girls, two of the best combinations you could ask for.

June is adventure month. My travels continue in Europe tomorrow, starting in Paris. From there, I’ll be going to Stockholm for ten days, and then flying to Zurich for my last three days. I’ll end up in Paris for one night and head back home.

I’ve decided to leave my laptop at home, and bring a notepad and pen. For the most part, I’ll try to update with photos of my travels but likely, I’ll just post random notes when I find an Internet cafe. I’ve got an iPod and a pocket-book guide of Paris. Hopefully, that’s all I’ll need.

If you want a postcard, send me your mailing address!

Here’s a photo I took the other day with my phone of St. Lawrence Market, Toronto.

St. Lawrence Market, Toronto

The title is from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, but I recently saw it used in this movie.