Vemdalen - The Other Side of Sweden

So after flying from Kiruna back to Stockholm, taking the train to uppsala, and going straight to bed, it was time to get up at 5.30, take the train back to Stockholm, and Board another flight bound for Ostersund - This time in the middle of Sweden, and towards the Norwegian Border. Our destination was Vemdalen and the 10 days which follow on from here will never have justice done to them by a humble blog, but its worth a shot. The place lies about here:


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So with a car load of freshly acquired food for the fondue feast that night and a dog resting on my shoulder slobbering consistently, we headed to what would be our home for the week or so. Myself and my partner in crime Kim, stayed at a ski lodge run by a bloke by the name Tim. And although not technically a kiwi given that he lived there for years, named his dog after footrot flats, and is good mates with half the all blacks, he more than deserves the title. So on the first night we were thrown right in with a dinner fit for a king. We shared the table with a few of the locals who were to become fellow locals to ourselves, a bloke who travels the world racing his hot air ballon (which was parked outside) and a bloke who flew in from oslo, Norway to join in the festivities. And with food that good, courtesy of Tims history of resturaunt management, it didnt matter that we couldnt understand all the swedish flying around the air cos we were far to busy eating.

The next day soon came and it was time to 'head to work', which involves taking the snowmobile 10km through the woods and up the mountain to Timmerkojan. Now by definition this mountain shack is a cafe, but we're not talking the type that you park your audi outside of, head into to order your decaff skim double moca chai latte and sit down with your laptop and your morning paper to check on your stocks. no. This is the type of cafe where you pull up on your snowmobile on a days exploration - or your cross country skis as you traverse the mountains adjacent skifields to have a hot meal prepared on gas by candle light, and the ony 'paper' in sight is the stuff found in the outhouse 200 yards away through knee deep snow; Where the only sight out the tiny blizzard beaten windows is the peaks of the distant national park, and the only sound when its quiet is the sound made by a dead mute man who's mouth has been gagged. This is the other side of Sweden.


There is of course one other way you can get to Timmerkojan, and thats if you get a lift behind Perra's Vesla. If you can picture the best bits of a tractor, a snowmobile, a tank, and a volksvagen and you have a piece of machinery you can tow skiers to the top of the piste with and pretty much drive wherever you please. Until it breaks down. So if it wasnt the snow scooter it was the vesla that was the preferred mode of transport up and down the mountain each day. If youre in need of a good dosage of manliness i suggest you find one of these things.


Then if you really want that cup of hot chocolate, and I mean really want it, then you kit your plane out with skis and fly - this was the original plan of our pal from Norway but due to weather conditions he kept the wheels on his plane (or rather, he chose another plane of his which had wheels on it) and flew to the local vemdalen airstrip, where we went with the airstrip owner to pick him up and take him home. He did however do a nice little flyby on his way back home to Norway the next day:



Then there was of course the mandatory day spent snowboarding, where I got the honour of a local lass taking me off-piste at nearby Bjonrikke. As we stood at the top of the forested mountain side she turned to me and simply said "just don't hit any trees", fairly self explanatory, before I followed her down through the woods and after a wicked ride, out into the valley bottom below. The day then got even more interesting when the board I had borrowed from a local dude conveniently died after the binding snapped. No worries, after a bit of manipulation it was good to go again, however after it happened for the third time I gave up and rode the rest of the day with one binding. Although not recomended I am living proof this is possible, and the lesson here is: be sceptial borrowing a board that hasnt been used in a season or two to aoid any surprises..




So we soon adopted the lifestyle which consised largely of snow mobiles, snowboards, the vesla, and a-grade cuisine and after going shopping at nearby ski resort for some more winter kit we were settling in rather nicely. Getting to know the locals and our way around the villiage was like forging a home away from home and with a sprinkling of kiwi influence on top one couldn't ask for better. But there is one day that I will elaborate on because its fair to say this day was a day like no other..


Like any good day, this one started out with a head-sized bowl of porrige before getting a ride on the back of the snow scooter up to the top of the hill (on these wicked purpose built sled roads with their own roadsigns and everything). Then in the morning with the scooter at our disposal and a wilderness to explore we went for a bit of a wee ride. I had been asked by a local bloke who runs a website to take some photos of the area to put up on the internet, so we headed up to the highest point around to get some shots over looking the mountains and the national park. I then checked my GPS to see the altitude of where I stood and it read 998m - I mean c'mon what do you call that? I just want another 2 metres! Not to worry - 5 yards away stood a 2 metre high cairn pointing majestically up into the sky, as if placed by the hand of fate itself. So naturally I scaled the pile of rocks (that marks the highest point in the range) and triumphantly held my GPS out with the determination and steadfastness of a Sir Edmund Hillary, as it read 1000m. Now, I was content.


So time for the next challenge. Our local man who runs snow kiting lessons at Timmerkojan thought it would be a grand idea on this day to get out the parasail to give it a crack. Firstly the vesla (tractor/tank) was used to flatten a bit of a track for the snow mobile, because with fresh snow overnight it would simply sink into the powder otherwise (much like what happened when one tried to walk anywhere - no you really didnt want gto be in a hurry with snow this deep). We then tied the parasail to the back of the sled and did a round of paper scissors rock to see which one of us lads would go first. Luckily I drew second - and I say luckily because none of us had actually been pulled by a sled on a parasail before and didn't even know how to hold the harness up, let alone how to steer away from the side of the mountain and to keep the sled below from flipping. So with a guinea pig in a fit of nervous gestures ready and the rest of us untangling the lines so that it looked "she'll be right" enough, it was party time. Ill let the photos do the talking from here.









What a sweet day. But it wasn't enough becasue that was just the day, what about the night? Well one day when he was a bit bored, our man Tim built an igloo. As you do. Complete with a glass window, letterbox with a newspaper, a chimney with no fire, a TV antenna, and some flowers out the front. Then snowed in one day he thought it would be cool to dig a 12 meter tunnel going into this igloo. Of course there's no power for miles to run a TV so the obvious solution he decided was to put a battery powered blue flashing light on the inside to fool any passerbyers that we were inside watching TV. The only slight flaw in the plan of course being that on a mountain in the middle of nowehere at night one doesn't really get 'passerbyers'. But like I say, only a slight flaw.

So we headed down the hill, packed the sled with a couple of sleeping bags, a thermos, all the clothes that we owned (and some we didn't) and a guitar, and headed back up to the igloo as the sun cast its last effort of light across the snow covered landscape. And then we were alone. With not even the winds subtle cry as company it was just Kim, Myself, and an igloo. The first step, as you all Im sure know from igloo sleepingg class, was to carpet the inside with reindeer skins - as many as I could haul through the snow tunnel. The snow tunnel which got narrower and narrower as it went along, so you naturally lost at least one boot and one pant leg before you reached the end. The next step, after you put on every piece of clothing you can fit (this by the way was excellent practice for those times you over pack your luggage and have to wear everything on the plane so you're not over the luggage weight limit), is to carpet yourself with reindeer skins. And then you're good to go. Of course with the air getting to -20 degrees I leanrt these steps don't keep you warm, but they keep you alive so thats good enough for me. And thats good enough to say I would definately do it again. We were the first people to actually sleep in this igloo and after Tim did a bit of reseacrh we also learned we were the first people in Vemdalen to have ever slept in an igloo so it made it just that much more worth it haha.

With one of the locals birthdays during our last few days and feeling somewhagt patriotic, kim and I thought it would be the decent thing to do to make a pavlova birthday cake for our pal Greggir. I won't say here what actually happened to our pav during the cooking process, but we'll just say that what you see here is a 'pavalova extra'. And it tasted good (in the end) so thats all that matters surely.. So our second to last night was spent chillin with the locals and eating 'pavlova extra' out of tupaware containers and champagne flutes as there was a slight shortage of bowls in the flat.


The very last night however, was spent with the same style we arrived here into - a banquet of fondue, this time up the mountain where we had forged a new, albeit temporary home. And as for the rest of the experience, like blasting through the woods at night on a snowmobile having absolutely no idea of where you are except ''really close to that tree there'', there's only one way to describe it: rather than reading a page on the internet, go and do it.


Thanks Tim and Flippin for the amazing hospitality; the scooter, the goretex, the translations, the stories aboutthe all blacks we don't hear about, the works . Cheers Kim you're just a legend. And thanks Malin, Perra, Greggir, Raggi, and all you other dudes for giving Kim and I a stay we'll never forget, we'll see ya in New Zealand.



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Vemdalen

Kiruna - The Real Sweden

I've been on a lot of trips in recent years and seen some amazing places, and as a result I often find myself saying how much grander each one is than the one before. But this time was somehow different, and the overwhelming task of reflection manifests itself as a reluctance to begin. But to do such a thing would be casting an insult upon the memory which we are granted, and so I will instead try to recreate the days which were unforgettable yet at the same time unrecallable.


It began with a 16 hour train ride, which was bumped up to 17 hours after a delayed departure and a door malfunction in our carriage (yes, just our carriage nobody elses) that meant a further delay whilst they stopped the train at the most inconvenient hour of the morning they could conceive of and relocated us to a new carriage 16 across the station whilst the rest of the train sped off into the night. and we waited. But all it meant was more time to practice our card playing skills, and if that got boring we would watch ourselves on the gps in eager anticipation of reaching 66 degrees lattitude,and crossing the arctic circle. Who would have thought watching a bunch of numbers dancing on a screen could be so much fun..

So after a chauffeur service from the station thanks to some kind fellow students our fist stop was the famous ice hotel, which may come as a shock, is a hotel made entirely out of ice and snow. The ice, harvested from the river behind the hotel, is transformed into chairs, beds, glasses and decorations which adorn the 70 rooms and the bar, although there's no denying that at the end of the day its still ice - and still as cold as it always was. So if your the type who enjoys the ice cubes on the wrong side of your drink then this is definitely the place for you. The temperature no matter how cold it is outside, never varies outside of -5 and -8 so you're guaranteed a cozy nights sleep. I however, decided that I would prefer to keep my NZ$1000 and stay outside in the snow for free.
















The place that recently won an award for "the best experience in Sweden" would not be complete without its own ice chapel and so right next to the ice bar, there she lays (the proximity no doubt specifically designed for the protection from the cold of the guests which attend the 100 weddings held here every year).


So after such a hard days work what left is there to do but chop some firewood and crank up the fire in the sauna, which sits proudly atop a frozen lake so with the lift of a handle of the trapdoor in the floor, you have ice cold water beckoning. And so began the trend which would continue for the next three nights which panned out a little like this: stoke the fire - collapse into a sauna - jump in the hole in the lake, then run outside and roll in the snow - leap back into the sauna and repeat. And with persistent practice I assure you one can become quite skilled at this. Then as the darkness descends and you venture out into the snow with nothing protecting you but a pair of shorts and a thin layer of ice that's formed on your skin, you breathe in the arctic air and look up as the northern lights dance across the horizon, like the fingers of God teasing the earth below.


Day 2 began with porridge made from melted snow, for which the recipe I determined is 1 cup oats, 1 cup on milk, and 1/2 a bucket of snow - just in case you need to know, before we set out on a cross country ski mission 7km around lake. This trip included of course, a mandatory exploration of the woods on the opposite side looking for animal sign, so we not only learned to use nordic skis this day, but also learned how to walk through waste-deep powder (and how to get completely buried by the stuff). Then after the mandatory sauna (yes life gets hard with all these mandatory tasks) we set up camp in the middle of the lake and submersed ourselves in a sea of reindeer skins to sit back and watch the northern lights once more..


Since I was a youngin Theres been a number of things that I simply have to do, like eat snail [done] and meet cookie monster [haven't done], and on day 3 another goal was achieved when I drove a dogsled through the Lappish wilderness. There is something surreal which is felt when the only things to indulge your senses are trees punching up through a perpetual carpet of white, the steady sound of the sled gliding over the snow, and the eager panting of a team of huskies as they pull you into the unknown.



And riding through little gullies between lakes reindeer and elk dart into the forest in the corner of your vision, which seems to be stretched to a limit you never knew possible as your eyes try their hardest to comprehend the beauty they've been all of a sudden subjected to. And with a stop off at a little log cabin for a spot of salmon soup and a feed for the husky's, the adventure continued..

That evening, in the spirit of living in the wilderness, I hatched the brilliant plan of drilling a hole in the ice and catching us some dinner. Although after 25 minutes of hand drilling I figured the fish could wait and that fish for breakfast would be more romantic so marked my hole to return the next day. Of course having no idea how thick the ice was was like having a steak dangled in front of your nose because you never know when your'e going to break through triumphantly to 'the other side'. But then after 1.2 metres of drilling my way to New Zealand, success erupted as a fountain of water from beneath the surface and as humble as my hole may have looked, she was ready to be fished. Unsuccessfully.


Then after four short days our era spent in our little cabin 200km north of the arctic circle came to an end and it was time to fly back to Stockholm and embark on the next mission. But although only 4 days in an entire lifetime, they will be 4 I will never forget. Thanks to the husky's that pulled me, the snow that entertained me, and to Kim for the company that is always second to none.

Photos:

Kiruna

March 13 - Helsinki, Finland

Finland, the home of Santa Claus, 187 888 lakes, and the city of Helsinki, was now stretched out in front of me. So the first things to check out were the churches, starting with the largest orthodox church in Western Europe - the Uspenski Cathedral.


This however doesn't recieve quite as many awe-inspiring looks as the Lutheran cathedral,which was built as a tribute to the Grand Duke, Nicholas I, the Tsar of Russia and is to Helsinki what tartan is to Scotland.


But whilst like every other church in Europe, the battle for majestic sky-piercing splendor continues, there's the wickedly original Temppeliaukio (rock) Church which although from the outside looks like quite literally nothing, is a church built in a hole with rock. The roof is made up of 22km of copper wire and the rest of the structure I figure is failry self explanitory.


The afternoon was spent exploring one of Finland's 179,584 islands - one that had been completely converted into a zoo. Of course the irony is that in winter with the sea water frozen the term island is hardly applicable, so we'll just refer to it as a bubble on the landscape. It was almost a surreal experience seeing African camels grazing in the snow, and stepping past ice sculptures and into the doors of a massive tropical plant/animal atrium with the snowdrifts mounding up on the other side of the glass. However, there was something in particular that enticed my attention more than everything else - including the bit where the tiger knocked the camera out of my hand whilst taking this shot..


..and that was the snow leopards. So it was another childhood dream ticked off as I stood in awe watching this guy destroy a leg of meat. I was like a kid at legoland, or coming to think of it, I was like what I would be at legoland.


So after more exploration of quirky phone booths and gargoyle-adorned buildings, we headed back to our ship stopping off of course, at the pizza buffet resaurant and testing the carrying capacity of each of my trouser pockets (which for future reference is 3 slices). And watching the islands float past in a sea of ice as the ship steered towards Stockholm kept one's eyes eagerly satisfied while the rest of the body is screaming "get inside mate it's bloody cold out here".



I've always said that when you're traveling, the places you see, the people you meet, and the weird-branded toothpastes you taste all help to nurture an amazing experience, but the essence lies simply in the definition of the word travel itself: to go from one place to another. So standing on the 'sundeck' I watch the Baltic sea rolling away into the abyss created when the darkness of the infinite sky and the oceans perpetual shadow collide, and the freedom (apart from the fact you're confined to a boat and can't technically go anywhere), is unparalleled. And it at times like these, where I'm not anywhere or witnessing anything in particular except the definition of travel in action, that I feel most content.

And the fact you're totally alone with the openness (Because you're the only one mad enough to brave the wind-chill; they use 'Baltic' as an adjective for a reason), its like having your mind forced open, whether you like it or not.


Most of the photos in this album are geo-tagged so you'll be able to see the exact location of where they were taken on a map on the right hand side.

Helsinki, Finland

March 12 - A City On The Sea

One step on the SS Serenade - the ship that would take me 16 hours across the Baltic sea to Helsinki - and you can soon see why people take this cruise and never get off the boat, opting instead to use the day in the dock to recover from the onslaught of entertainment the night before. The ship literally is it's own city, in every way except for the paradoxical fact that a city requires a country in which it exists, whilst the Serenade spends its life perpetually drifting between a few different ones. And during that first step on board, you are greeted by an amazing string quartet jamming to ABBA, which would be followed by the rest of the evenings entertainment - a Hungarian acrobat on a giant mouse wheel in the ships central atrium, a Finnish rope acrobat performing stunts 50ft up in the air, and a Swedish pianist. Much more romantic than the last ship I was on to Estonia - the SS Romantika. Go figure.

It's 13 floors comes complete with shops, cafes, several resturaunts, an irish pub, a nightclub, spa and sauna nestled under palm fronds and a glass roof under the stars, a playstation lounge kitted out with 50 inch plasma tvs ps3's and psp's, and a theatre with an automatic-raising floor. And who can forget the karaoke bar where I had a song dedicated to me - and nothing more apt than the song from titanic (there is a story behind this by the way, so its not just the fact that Im a lifelong Celeine Dion fan). Then there's the 'sundeck' covered in, well, not sun.

The best part of all though, is waking up in Finland and stepping off the ship in search of gargoyle adorned buildings, a new culture, and the infamous rax pizza buffet..

March 10 - Playing in The Snow

It was a crisp Sunday afternoon following a week of fresh snow,when I got a message on my phone that simply said "meet you at the castle in 30 minutes" and so that's exactly what I did..



And we weren't the only ones filming us, a local TV crew who were across the street turned their cameras onto us, probably after hearing all the screaming, so keep an eye out for us if you happen to be watching Swedish TV anytime soon..

March 7 - A Basin for My Birthday

What was one of the best birthdays I've ever experienced started on friday when I came home to find the housing office had broken in to my room, installed a brand new basin in my room, and vanished (after waking my corridor mates with assorted banging sounds). How they are suppose to encourage student hygiene with behavior like that I don't know - why clean when you just get a new one? But that was only the beginning. And I know what you're thinking, "But gareth how could it possibly get better than a basin?" Well on friday night I headed to one of the student nations for a drink and was having a sweet low key evening when it turned midnight and the whole place seemed to turn to me - a monstrous plate of nachos appeared from the kitchen, and the singing began. So by the way nachos is the new cake, just so you know. But that was still only the begining..

For starters there was the amazing gifts from New Zealand, thank you guys- you know who you are. and you know how wicked it was for me to receive everything (the video especially). So my day continued with cleaning my corridor, recycling, and all your other standard super-fun birthday activities waiting for dinner at a pals place that night. Or so I though, but instead my fellow students threw me a surprise party, and days later the surprise is still resonating. Perfectly planned down to the fake invites, it was amazing to see how well people have come to know me in only two short months: a kiwi made of marzipan, an ample supply of fair trade coffee, a flag signed by everyone, and a mechanical wind-up hopping rooster, just to name a few. And then there was the 4 cakes and the french crepes which had taken one poor fry pan all day to make..



Just when I begin to understand people, their generosity seems to break my beliefs open like a cheap happy-meal toy and surpass everything I thought I once knew. Cake 1: Complete with a bee from a fellow beekeeper. Cake 2: the moose represents Sweden and the kiwi is of course new zealand, however the Austrians couldn't think of a suitable symbol for themselves so given that they're called aussies as well they just turned it Australian (the kangaroo), and fashioned it all out of marzipan. Cake 3: its easier to write '23 years old' in french when there's only 3 letters, fair enough I think. Cake 4: well this one never made it out of the Russians oven in time and got a tad burnt.. but I ate it in spirit.


So a wicked night was had by all, and with cuisine from all over the world and some wicked friends for company there was no excuse. And when the night came to a close, march 8th ticked over and I no longer had a reason to celebrate, I headed back to my room only to find out they had taken my keys from my jacket, broken into my room (seems to be the thing to do) and left my bed covered in presents. I mean c'mon will the carnage never end??















Only 364 Days to go..

Spring Is Coming To Sweden..

Thus far I have been blessed with one of the coldest winters Uppsala has seen in years, with a peak of -15 Degrees. I know I mean c'mon is that all you got? At times it's so cold your face simply stops working, and then you have to deal with black ice that's thicker than the hair on Carl Hayman and Sebastien Chabal combined.

But Dylan was right, for the times they are a changin. Ok terrible analogy but in the last week we have seen flashes of green grass appearing all over the landscape - striving desperately for attention amidst the seas of white. It doesn't last long of course - because with the warmer weather comes the snow and with fresh snow falling everyday any evidence of spring is quickly hushed by the blanket of winter. But it doesn't deter those little blades of grass from trying, and for them knowing that in a few weeks they will emerge victorious fuels their motivation more and more as the days tick by.


If you want to see what the weathers like in Sweden though, you don't look outside but inside - at the Swedes themselves. There's no better way to forecast the conditions, for its reflected perfectly in the personality of the locals and I was warned about this before coming but when you have nothing to compare it to its not really clear. Until spring comes. But although the people are getting happier, the ducks are still outta luck..

Gareth: Student. Traveller. Bike Dismantler

As well as becoming an expert in fixing fellow students bikes I am simultaneously becoming an expert as breaking my own. Whilst moving rooms in the weekend, using my pack to cart food and clothes and my trusty steed rex, my bike collapsed into a pile of bike bits beneath me. So I borrowed a friends bike and was back in action, only to have the same thing happen the next morning. mint. So tonight has been spent crouched under an outside light in, conveniently enough, the middle of nowhere - which wouldn't be so difficult except for the fact theres nowhere to put down your tools - which wouldn't be so difficult if your tools didn't freeze to the ground after half a minute of inactivity. You learn pretty fast to work pretty fast. I did eventually succeed however, and with my prize strapped to my bike (2kg of meat I'd rescued from my old fridge before the Russian who now occupies my room discovered it), I rode of into what would be the sunset, if the whole thing hadn't taken me so long. Ah victory is sweet.


Rex after a hard days effort

Feb 24 - Bloc Party Concert, Stockholm

Held at Cirkus - built back in the day to host Europe's traveling circuses. bloc party! enough said.

Feb 20 - Tallinn, Estonia

I awoke to the sound of ice crushing against the hull as our ferry neared the end of it's 15 hour slog across the Baltic, from Stockholm to Tallinn, Estonia.


Now I should start with the most important stuff - Estonians, as I discovered, cannot make a cup of coffee. They do however, seem to have wicked places to go to in order to drink a coffee. So it's kind of a cancel out effect.. This is the cafe in the middle of the old walled Medieval Tallinn, Check it out:















Tallin (which is here by the way)

View Larger Map is like a timeline that has been compressed into a single point that occupies 159 square kilometres. The old medieval city of cobbled streets, guard towers, and shops selling hand-made slippers sits within a nest of modern skyscrapers, shopping centres, and free wi-fi. There really is virtually nothing in between, with the exception of a chinese buffet restaurant that's reminiscent of some 1970's architectural exhibition. Then there's the ancient wooden houses and churches, which in Europe is about as rare as a swede with baggy jeans, looking both totally out of place and totally home at the same time.


One thing I learnt when traveling in Venice, Italy was that the best way to see a place is to get lost in it - in fact if I was ever to write a guidebook I would ask a 4 year old child to draw the map, so you would intentionally lose your way. For when this happens you let a place unravel before you at its own pace - not yours - as the city becomes the guide for itself. Then you stumble upon the dodgy little alleys and bizarre buildings that most people miss completely. But lets not forget how useful a few facts about the place can be..

St Olaf's church was, back in the day, the tallest building in the world at an epic 159 metres. crikey. But after being hit by lightening a total of 8 times and burning the church down not once, not twice, but thrice, they decided its best to make the thing a tad shorter. So the ex-KGB radio tower/surveillance point now stands proudly at 123 metres, but is still one of the sweetest looking buildings in Taillinn.


The Russian Orthodox cathedral that stands majestically at the top of the hill is a reminder to the Estonians of the extent of Russian empire, and subsequently was voted to be demolished in 1924 but it never happened. The church poses a stark contrast to the Estonian vibe the rest of the town radiates, except that is, for the elderly Estonian women lined up outside with their hands out awaiting a bit of change.


And here's the town square, the place where in 1694 a waitress got axed to death after serving up a priest an omelet he didn't like. Fair enough. The building behind has been a pharmacy since 1442, when it used to sell powdered unicorn horn. apparently it's pretty good stuff too.


The walled medieval city is definitely an amazing place that in the last couple of hundred years had changed very little, except now the guard towers surrounding the town stand strong in protecting the inside from the modernisation that is gradually closing in on it..



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Tallinn, Estonia