Sweden: Umea

Cow Barn and Silo near Umea

A Typical Northern Swedish Farm House

My cell phone had died, and as official family photographer, I had borrowed Ann's. Then of course I set it down on the seat (black on black in the dark). When we left the car at the airport, I check my pockets, and of course had my phone, wallet, passport, etc. And of course Ann assumed I still had hers, as she should have. Well maybe 10 minutes before boarding, she went to use her phone. Uh Oh. Luckily it's a fairly small airport, so Roland and I bolted for the exit, and luckily for me, the car had not yet been moved or cleaned. We were able to retrieve ithe phone from the back seat, get through security (with a funny look from the security check folks when they recognized us from 30 minutes earlier), and back to the gate before boarding began. Phew.

We arrived in Umea (at 63 latitude the northernmost major city in Sweden) well after dark.  But the next morning, we got to explore the rural neighborhood around Roland's home. He lives right next to a substantial dairy farm. He noted that the new steel silo, and many other newer ones in the area, were imported from America - Harvestore, just like I see all over Ohio and Michigan. Funny the specialization of industry.

Beef, Beets, and Potatoes

The farmers were busy with manure spreading this season - the smell reminded me of visiting my grandparent's farm in southern Ohio as a child. Yet here it was surrounded by boreal forest. The rich, broad, flat valleys and clay soils are farmed extensively, even this far north, but the rocky ridges are covered in birches and spruce. Familiar and yet dissonant for me as it seemed a mashup of my childhood in Ohio and my adult life on Lake Superior.

It was raining on and off now, as it would throughout our stay in Umea, so we got to see yet another face of Sweden - cold, wet, and grey. We walked up the muddy lane marveling at the nearly identical red wood farmhouses with white trim. Almost every rural house around Umea seemed to follow this model, with only the rare exception of mustard yellow. Amazing.

Roland took us to a local country restaurant nearby, and we enjoyed a warm, cozy setting and Swedish comfort food on a rainy day. Beef stew, pickled beets, and boiled potatoes. Yum.

Grocery Shopping in Umea

It was great being again in an area not frequented by tourists, and with a local guide. We got to go grocery shopping in town. Not at all unfamiliar, with even many products the same as home. But not the tube food. It makes sense for many foods with a pasty consistency, and the Swedes are crazy for the toothpaste tube for everything. Racks of it. Ann had to try the Kalles Kaviar - a mix of fish eggs, salt, and starch. Very strong, salty-fishy. Commonly eat on crackers, we found that a good squeeze of lemon went a long way in making it good.

And milk products. We noticed this at the breakfast bar in Trollhattan, and again here. Yogurt in infinite variety - thin, thick, sour, varying fats. Curdled milk, almost cheese. In fact, straight milk seems mostly used in coffee. For breakfast, with musli, it's always yogurt or the like. I liked that, though I did in the end find myself missing something wetter on my breakfast. And soy milk like I use at home was less common than cow milk.

Umea's Main Square and Town Hall

Downtown Umea

Cheese. Lots of cheese. For breakfast with bread, in cooking, straight. And good cheese, none of the insipid string cheese or American slices you often face in the US. Didn't see any cheddar - not even the good stuff. Must be a British/American thing? But that didn't matter. We were introduced to Vasterbottensost. New love. Instantly one of our favorite cheeses. Made only in the region around Umea (Vasterbotten), it struck me as a cross between a really good cheddar and a super Parmesan. Swedish demand alone keeps prices up and exports down. Roland made us a wonderful Swedish cheese pie (quiche) with it. Fabulous.  And he's so sweet, he even sent us home with a kilo of it - sadly gone now. We'd been trading regional ingredients already, us introducing him to thimbleberry jam on his visit to Houghton two summers ago. Now we owe him again. Next: Nissu? Pasties?

The next day we returned to town after a long walk in the country visiting the sheep, the forests, seeing the cloud berry bushes and mosses under the forest canopy. We wanted to see more of town, and do some Christmas shopping. The rain made for a special experience - the streets reflecting lights, the shops all the warmer, and the cafes all the cozier. We found a wonderful craft shop where Ann picked out a hand woven scarf for herself, and several other gifts.

Ann Takes Her Tea Warm

Then to the local tea house. Upstairs from a decadent pastry shop, we were told that much of the political business of Umea takes place here over tea. It was very comfortable. We felt very at home in Umea. A city of 115,000, it is home to Umea University. Established in the 1960s, the university is largely responsible for the doubling of Umea's population since, making Umea the intellectual and cultural center of northern Sweden. The streets shops are prosperous, the streets clean and very pedestrian and bike friendly. It's sometimes called the City of Birches, after the streets were planted with silver birches after a particularly devastating fire in 1888 to prevent future spread.

Swedish Ski Museum 

Oldest Ski in the World

Next, Jeff went shopping. As soon as we had arrived in Sweden, I'd noticed that all the workers had very cool work pants with built in tool belts and many pockets. Not your usual Dickies or Carharts like in the States. I had to have some. Well, Rolland knew the store for me. On the outskirts was a place entirely devoted to work wear. It was quite large, and the selection was impressive. I was like a kid in a candy store. I tried on several and finally selected a totally cool pair with nylon knees and seat, lots of pockets, and grey-on-grey plaid fabric. Too stylish almost to work in, but very tough and practical. And expensive. Between the Swedish penchant for quality and the strength of the SEK (Swedish Crown), way more than I normally spend on pants, even for dress. But I bought them anyway. Every time I'll wear them, I'll remember the trip.

We also went to the municipal museum where the Swedish Ski Museum is located. Here we saw the oldest ski in the world (5,000 years), found in a peat bog near Umea. And the skis of the Olympic cross country ski champion, Per Elofsson, who was born and lives in Umea, and a remarkable collection of practical, historic, and decorated skis. An afternoon well spent.

Jannson's Temptation

That night we had a fine dinner at home with Roland, his wife Eva, and her American friend and colleague, Jean. Eva and Jean had just returned from a conference, and we had a wonderful time talking about their work and all manner of things with them. We even got to sample another traditional Swedish dish, similar to scalloped potatoes here, but with potato fingers and anchovies. Not like the nasty ones that come on American pizzas, but larger, and flavored with a hint of cloves. It's called Jannson's frestelse (Jannson's Temptation). Often a Christmas dish, we rushed the season a bit ourselves so we could try it. The cloves and anchovies were a surprise sensation.

What a great time in Umea. We were sad to leave after only 2 days, but Switzerland beckoned. We'll have to go back some day to ski or bike and pick cloud berries.

Sweden: Trollhattan to Umea

Ann's Lecture

Saab Museum in Trollhattan

The next morning I had the honor of attending Ann's second lecture. She had been invited to speak at the annual conference of Swedish university information technologists. Sweden has 30 universities, and the conference rotates between the schools. This was University West in Trollhattan's turn. It was fascinating to listen to the host tooling along in Swedish to the audience, then pow, English - introducing Ann West to talk on federations. Ann then proceeded for with her talk and question/answer session in English, and pop, back to Swedish. She did a great job. And I can see why she had Tuesday off - she did not speak that day, so the entire proceedings would have been in Swedish - not much use to her.


The academic Swedes are especially good with English, and were fine hosts. They took us both out to lunch afterward at a beautiful small restaurant in an old house on the hill above the river, where we enjoyed superb local ingredients, fine service, and a great coffee and desert. We had a fine time with Walter and Roland.

The Very First Saab - Prototype 1, 1947

In the afternoon, Ann continued on with the conference while I walked down to the Saab museum near where we rented our bike the day before.

Historic Locks  below Trollhattan

Saab automotive was established in the late 1940's as an outgrowth of the Saab aerospace company. This was a pretty modern museum ensconced in a remodeled industrial building. It was nicely done, and I had it to myself. Definitely the off-season. It was interesting to walk through the physical timeline of production cars for a smaller manufacturer. In more detail than I often cared to know, you could follow their model development. There was even an engine timeline.

It was especially poignant to be doing this as Saab automobile was at that moment closed and awaiting yet another possible sale (later to fall through) and facing bankruptcy. Another of victim of the consolidation of auto worldwide auto manufacturing. Volvo is apparently still doing well, but you do have to wonder about a country of 9.5 million having two auto manufacturers.

I then hiked further down the canal to the locks. Here shipping leaves the river and traverses 8 locks to rise above Trollhattan falls and the hydroelectric plant there. There are actually 3 sets of locks here, two historic, each superseding the last as ships grew larger and traffic increased. The older locks are still preserved in a park surrounding the working lock zone. Folks used to come down form Trollhattan to picnic, marvel at the technology, and watch to see what the folks travelling up from the big city of Goteborg were wearing. They in turn watched their country cousins to see how they lived. How little has changed.

Downtown Trollhattan

That evening we went to an English pub in downtown Trollhattan with Roland (not be be confused with the Irish pub nearby, nor the 2 Thai and 1 Indian restaurants we'd eaten at on our stay). Most expensive burger and brew I've ever had, nearly 30 USD. But it was trivia night and they were packed. A live MC brought out a mic, handed out answer sheets, and began regaling the crowd with questions, with Roland providing a running translation for us. We did pretty good since a lot of the trivia was about the US and popular culture. There were a few that he could not reliably translate as they relied on plays-on-words in Swedish and Swedish cultural trivia. It was fascinating seeing both the penetration of American culture and history into a far European pub, as well as the cultural specificity of trivia when it was about what was for us a nearly unknown culture.

Freeway to Goteborg 

The next day, we left for Roland's home town of Umea, in far north eastern Sweden. This time instead of train and bus, we rode with him in his rental car directly to the Goteborg airport. It was fun to see another transportation mode in Sweden. Their freeways look remarkably like ours, located as they are away from the historic downtowns and cultural centers. The weather had turned, it was grey, and it began to drizzle, just as it had been when we first arrived. We had hit a beautiful, sunny break in the weather perfectly at Trollhattan.

Sweden: Vanersborg to Trollhattan by Bike

Swedish Graffiti

 So we jumped on our bikes again and headed through downtown. But at the bridge we arrived on we turned left and headed down the other side of the canal, back towards the river. A different way home than I took on my initial reconnaisance sounded fun. And that way Ann got the excitement of finding a new way too.

Old Swedish Farm Estate

As we tooled along the river, I noted not for the first time the restraint of Swedish graffiti. In the US it tends to be anywhere, but here it seemed restricted to public utility structures almost exclusively. Not on bridges, not on trains, not on factories. Just utility boxes. Weird, but I approve.

Past more fields and factories we found this old estate house (now apartments). Maybe Sweden wasn't always so egalitarian. The bike path went right down the driveway, past the car ports, and returned to the fields. More evidence of the Swedish sense of public space. We passed a class on a field trip walking the path (well, some were laying in it and seemed a bit taken aback to have bikers bearing down on them, but they hopped up quickly, smiling shyly and waved).

Small Houses in a Swedish Suburb

We left the fields and rode on around the back side of a smaller, plainer suburb, then back to the river. Here you could see that the local bedrock had been blasted to make the river a  navigable canal, and the path gained a few short hills in what was an otherwise very flat ride. Good thing, as the hotel bike was a very heavy single speed.

As the channel widened we saw signal lights and what appeared to be a low bridge, but as we approached, it resolved into a lock on the canal with a roadway across the top of the gates, kind of like a horizontal swing bridge. Neat! Never seen that before.

Locks on the Gota Alv below Vanersborg

We rode past evidence of another of Sweden's big industries, logging. Here a giant pile of pine logs waited along the narrow paved road and farmer's field. I would have liked to have seen the harvesting and equipment to compare to what I see back home in the Keweenaw. At least one of the major harvesting systems used in our area is manufactured in Finland. I wonder what the Swede's use?

Evidence of Logging

And then we passed the golf course again and were retracing our path to Trollhattan. Along the highway the car's headlights were on as we cruised along the bike path and back to our cozy hotel on the waterfront. What a great day out.

Back to the Scandic Hotel at Dusk

Sweden: Vanersborg by Bike

Ann Crossing the Gota Alv at Vanersborg

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 Brilliantly! How the Swedes handle bikes on this major highway bridge, that is. Look at this, a bike lane and a pedestrian lane, full rails, the works. And it was heavily used. What a great country for human powered transport - all this in a fairly obscure industrial town of 20,000. I reported back to Ann that night that we absolutely had to ride up there on Tuesday, her day off.

Ann Testing the Tourist Bike

We were so stoked! We went down to the dining room with Ann's Swedish colleague, Roland, first thing the next day for the wonderful included breakfast at the Scandic hotel (though we were starting to get an idea that we would be tired of cheese by the end of this trip), already planning our outing. Dropped by the front desk to pick up the keys to a bike, and dang, they were all out but one. We were in big trouble. We were scheming all sorts of uncomfortable and marginally safe ideas like wadding a jacket on the cargo rack so one of us could ride behind the operator. This was not as outlandish as you might expect - these bikes were tanks. 50 lbs, minimum, of Swedish steel, extra spokes, even a pump holder tube. But it wasn't too comfortable, and the handling even on this relaxed a bike took a turn for the worse with all that weight on the rear wheel.

Alloy Plant and Loading Facility at Vanersborg

Concierge to the rescue! She suggested we go down to the tourist office at the south end of town and see if they would rent a bike - they usually had some. So we took turns riding the uncomfortable rack through the streets along the waterfront of Trollhattan to their tourist office and museum center. This is set in a beautifully re-purposed industrial area. Formerly a major fabrication and engineering site, it now houses small, high tech enterprises, the Trollhattan movie studios (nationally known and nicknamed "Trollywood" believe it or not), the Saab museum, and a cable car across the canal to the science museum and hydroplant tours.

Vanersborg Marina and Lake Van

The tourist office was just opening, and they were exceptionally helpful. They in fact had already put all the bikes in storage for the winter (this was late October), but immediately took us around the corner and down to the storage basement, found one my size, took our hotel name and room number, and off we went. Even nicer than the loaner from the hotel, this one had 8 speeds and a lighter aluminum frame. We repeated what I had done the day before, then began our exploration of Vanersborg proper.

From the top of the bridge we could see the industry down the Gota Alv canal and Lake Vanern up the canal. Lake Venern is the largest lake in Sweden and the EU, and the third largest in Europe - about 1/4 the size of Lake Erie. You certainly can't see the other side from Vanersborg, even from the bridge. 

Bike underpass at the Vanersborg Waterfron

We crossed the highway lift bridge in style, then dropped on a bike/pedestrian cloverleaf (yes!) under the bridge to a waterfront park and marina, empty for the season. The bike popped under this welcoming underpass, then headed along the lake shore, it turned out through  many kilometers of shoreline park, encompassing the entire north end of town. The Swedes seem to do well with their public land and parks. Everywhere there were views of the lake, tree covered lawns, and paths with access to the nearby neighborhoods. Eventually, we entered a nature preserve where the paths wound through undisturbed woods, slipping out to the shore periodically for a view, then back into the woods.

Urban Slickrock at Vanersborg

We even found a bit of urban slickrock (exposed bedrock you can ride you bike on) used as part of the trails in the park. Think there were some glaciers here recently? 

Nature Preserve at Vanersborg

I was developing an urgent need to find a restroom. And there was a nice brick one as I rounded the corner in the park, marked "WC" of all things. We saw a lot of English mixed with the Swedish. Some of the Swedes who spoke English had Brit accents and some Yank. To some extent, it was age dependent. I think the schools taught British English, but of course entertainment culture is dominated by American English. Younger folks seemed to have more Americanized English. I wonder if this is really true throughout Sweden?

One of Many Community Gardens

Thinking of language, it was interesting too, watching folks try to peg your origins. Especially on the flights around Europe the flight attendants, who commanded many  languages, had to make a guess about yours when they first addressed you, then remember throughout the flight what each passenger spoke. But I found if you were pretty quite, spoke softly, maybe looked and dressed a certain way, and used the simple Swedish greetings, they often took me for a Swede or assumed I spoke Swedish and if I didn't object, continued to speak Swedish (or later, German) to me throughout the flight. That was fun, and I could usually figure out what was going on - a nice challenge.

Back to the tour of Vanersborg. As we left the nature preserve, we passed yet another community garden. Houses and lots tending to be smaller here, it seems that more gardening is done communally. Each family has a small shed for tools and the like on their plot. The season was well past, so we saw no activity, but it must be amazing in the short, intense spring and summer here.

Vanersborg Watertowr

Downtown Vanersborg

Ending up on the northeast side of town, we crossed the ring highway and angled back towards downtown, passing lumber yards, car dealerships, plumbing contractors, and grocery stores. Kind of  the near-suburban strip, but much subdued. Closer to downtown we started hitting apartment blocks of mid-20th century vintage, heavy bus, bike and pedestrian traffic, and uninspired schools and community centers. If any part of our visit here looked a little less prosperous or wealthy, it was in this area. More similar to a traditional hardworking blue collar neighborhood in the States than we saw elsewhere in Sweden. We turned a corner by the historic water tower down the main boulevard (park and church in the center), then turned on a pretty little pedestrian shopping street.

Nicely done. We parked the bikes in a nearly full rack, one of many, chained them, and went looking for some gifts. We found a fascinating shop, kind of a Swedish Dollar General, though maybe not a chain. They had household stuff, a few Legos, Christmas decorations (and I'll have you note this was late October - we Americans are not the only ones rushing the season), snack foods. Teenagers standing around goofing off.

Bike Path Around Vanersborg

We went down the street a little further looking for coffee, and found a little local place. Not very fancy, but nice enough. Found our first Swede who had little or no English. He was very friendly, and we easily worked out that we wanted cafe (pretty universal word that). But the noshies were a bit trickier. We looked at the menu board, and and worked out something about a bagette and mushrooms. He helpfully described it some more in Swedish which we completely missed, but ordered away and took a seat at a small table. He disappeared up the short steps behind the counter to the kitchen. Another customer came in, they talked, then the customer went behind the counter and up the stairs. Bathroom! my always hopeful and observant wife cried. When the customer returned, she took her turn. Then I mine. Up the steps was the door to a tiny kitchen, and another door. Leaving that door put us in a stairwell, and after a bit of spinning around, I found the tiny WC door behind the entrance door. How cool, just like the Rosetta Cafe in Calumet at home, with the men's restroom across the unfinished basement down a narrow flight of ancient stairs.

Sun Setting on Lake Vanern

I came back to the worst meal of our trip. The coffee was great - never ran in to bad coffee in Sweden, they know how to make good coffee, and strong. But the meal was basically cream-of-mushroom soup on white bread buried under melted cheese. The few onions on it were ok. Another customer entered, apparently a good friend of the proprietor, and he grabbed a bowl of soup and joined his friend for a snack and a good talk. Very homey. Except for the three electronic gambling machines along the back wall next to us. And that's really the best part of our trip to Vanersborg - we got to visit a part of Sweden that doesn't expect to see foreigners much. It's set up for the folks that live there. We felt we got to know Sweden a little better that way.

But the sun (always when we were there - the light felt like mid winter back home at 47 north) was setting lower and we had to be on our way. Thanks, Vanersborg, for treating us like everyone else. Nice town.

Sweden: Trollhattan to Vanersborg by Bike

Trollhattan Canal Lift Bridge

Monday was Ann's first day speaking at the conference at University West (Hogskalon Vast) in Trollhattan, so I had the day to reconnoiter again.

Trollhattan Mall

With the Scandic hotel offering free use of  classic European city bikes to its guests and several bike  routes along the Gota Alv to Vanersborg about 14 km north, adventure beckoned. I had a map of the region, but not a biking map. But the bike route  by the hotel was well marked, how hard could it be? The sun was out, the leaves had turned - perfect.

I headed up river through the park between the canal and river, past the city waterfront, turned at the lift bridge, and headed into the suburbs. After following a very recently paved railroad grade along a major highway, I came upon my  first Swedish mall at the freeway cloverleaf. It was oddly familiar and different. Oddest was the McDonald's restaurant (golden arches, red roof, and all) plopped down right next to the Swedish Modern glass and steel mall buildings, as if from another planet. But then, Sweden already had been striking me as somewhere between the European cities we'd visited before, and the US. The cars seemed bigger and more numerous here, the roads wider, the spaces  more open than the Cambridge or Gronigen of our last visit. 

Bike Path Resumes Behind the Mall

I lost the bike route a bit at the mall, but found it again under the underpass in a light commercial area. It quickly turned down a dirt road, past a large gated manufacturing facility (with the Saab plant visible across the river in the distance), and I was in the country. Fields of stubble yielded to woods and an ancient ruined farmstead from 1614 (when the area was first incorporated into modern Sweden). Through the woods was a golf course on the left and to the right on the banks of the river an iron age burial site, pocked with holes and mounds - a great juxtaposition of modern and ancient Sweden. 

Hans Belfrages Homestead, 1614 to 1688

Iron Age Burial Site on the Gota Alv River

At the club house, the bike route left its narrow packed dirt path and joined the paved country access road, leaving the river behind. Now I was riding through forestland that looked remarkably like home in upper Michigan. The route again joined a dirt path, then back on another narrow paved road, now past fields of cows. At times it was difficult to tell if I was on a road or a paved bike path, it was so narrow - barely 8 feet wide. I suspect it was open only to motorized traffic for local residents. 

Narrow Paved Country Road in Swedish Farm Country

Through a narrow underpass under the main highway, past yet another historical settlement site, onto another dirt path, past a farmhouse and down their lane (there seemed to be a lot of public use of what appear to be private driveways for bike routes in Sweden). 

Now another country lane, but the houses were getting closer together. I heard a vehicle following me down the narrow road, so I pulled off at a wide spot. They slowed and stopped, waiting for me, so I rode on, the caught up, again I pulled over at a wide spot, again they waited. Weird. They caught up again, and I noticed pulled over into the wide spot - with a mail box - postal vehicle! I'd been pulling over at every mailbox where there was space, right where they wanted to go. I hadn't recognized the yellow van with a blue Swedish crown on it as a postal truck. They were very patient, and I stopped pulling of into the very spots they wanted to go.

Framehouse on Bike Route Near Vanersborg

Suburb near Vanersborg

Now I was getting into Oxnered. I passed the regional rail station and rode into the suburbs proper. If I squinted, some segments looked almost American, but eyes open, there were many differences. House size was one - houses here are significantly smaller. Even when I rode through an obviously more well-to-do area, with more brick and expensive finishes, the houses were half what I'd expect in an upper middle class American neighborhood. Also, for a small working class town, homes were incredibly well tended, and the infrastructure extensive and well maintained. Even riding through diverse commercial, industrial, park, and urban spaces, there was very little difference in signs of individual wealth or civic upkeep. It had the distinctive feel of a very egalitarian society.  I noticed this too watching laborers and shop keepers and businessmen - they all acted and dressed similarly. 

Highway Bridge Across the Gota to Vanersborg

Another subtle difference was the predominance of tiled roofs. In the US, tiled roofs are associated with the Southwest and Mexico - asphalt is the norm in the north. But here was almost exclusively tile roofs even further north. Made me wonder if asphalt shingles are big in the States because asphalt is a petroleum byproduct, of which we have a surfeit, and thus cheap, while Sweden lacks petroleum. Hmmmm. Maybe that explains the lack of vinyl siding too. Expensive oil makes brick and wood look cheap - another reason to tax oil in my book. Certainly gas was expensive in Sweden - equivalent to about 8.50 USD per gallon when in the US it's been about 3.50 USD. 

Also, there is less sprawl than back home. There are more rural suburbs here than Cambridge or Gronigen, but they are more dense, more separated from each other by forest and farm, and fewer than in the US. And they have excellent bike infrastructure - the newer ones have not just bikable roads, but paved bike paths behind and around the homes as a second transport network. Nice.

Soon I was in the outskirts of Vanersborg proper - I could see the city across the river. But first I had to cross the river on a major highway overpass. How would the Swedes handle bikes on that?

Sweden: Trollhattan South

Funny, how sleep becomes unpredictable with jet lag. We were very tired from the journey and went to sleep promptly though it was only afternoon back home (6 hours earlier). Then of course we woke up in the middle of the night when it was time to go to bed back home.

Just got back to sleep when out our 5th floor dormer window "Clang, clang, clang, clang..." I climbed up on a chair, opened the window and peered out into the dark. A deep thrumming, and bright lights moving through a night fog greet me. A bit dazed, it takes a moment to realize that a freighter is passing the tilt bridge next to the hotel. Like a moving building. The Gota turns out to be a busy waterway. We experienced many similar passages - day and night - during our stay, from bulk carriers headed to the alloy plant to construction tugs. Very cool.

The view out our window in the morning was sublime. Fall color still on the trees freshened by the recent rain, the blue sky reflected in the wide river and gutter. Sunday, a good day to explore. Ann had a lot of prep for her lecture on Monday, so I headed out. Up river or down? I saw on the map a large park along the river to the south, so I crossed the canal bridge and hung a left downstream.

Trollhattan has a long history of manufacturing. It remains the home to Saab, Volvo aerospace, and many other industries, including a major historic hydro power station at the falls in Trollhattan. The hydro station is still there and was running full tilt when I happened by - there was no water in the falls at all and the outlets of all the turbines were swirling. Below the hydro plant is a suspension pedestrian bridge carrying hikers to the other bank. Or you can continue onward to the locks. Another day.

I crossed the bridge and headed further down stream, through open woods, a glade, along a stream, a boardwalk, to a ridge. Across the river I could see the locks. The sun, already low, was continuing to drift down, so I turned around so I could be back for dinner with Ann. Passing the bridge without crossing,  I found a staircase leading up the bluff face. It was a bit disconcerting to see a huge indentation in the step grating, obviously from a falling rock. At the top a trail wound ever higher until I could see an overlook cantilevering over the face.

A couple was already at the end looking down the river valley. And here's something interesting about the Swedes. There were a few others waiting to go out for a look. There was plenty of room on the platform, but rather than crowd out as you might see in the US, they were giving each other space and waiting their turn. I wonder if this is a part of the Swedish character?

Once my turn came up, the views up and down river were spectacular. Downriver, the sunset above the gorge, highlighting the suspension bridge I'd crossed earlier far below. Upriver, the city of Trollhattan spread in the distance. It was very cool. I was able to walk along the face of the bluff for a ways on the path watching the valley below before dropping down to a road and bridge crossing the river and bringing me to the falls again and the inlet canal for the hydro plant.

As I walked through the park back to the hotel along the thin spit of land that separates the river from the navigation canal, I stopped at a beautiful red stone church lit by the sunset. The church was given to the people of Trollhattan by the company that built the hydro project a century ago as a thank you for putting up with the disruption of plant construction. Nice gift.

I got back in time to meet Ann and her Swedish colleague, Roland, for Indian food downtown a few blocks from our hotel. It was quite good. So now Thai, Indian, when do we get Swedish food? Well the included breakfasts at the hotel were decidedly Swedish. Make your own musli, dozens of types of yogurt and curdled milk, strong coffee, crepe-like pancakes, lots of fruit, cheese and bread. Even a pot of pickled fish, though I didn't see any Swedes eating it. They were wonderful breakfasts. And the conference organizer, Walter, took us to a very fancy Swedish restaurant in an old mansion on the hillside across the river the next day that specialized in local and Swedish dishes ingredients with a modern interpretation. Great stroemming, super salads, views across the city - thanks guys!

Sweden: Philadelphia to Trollhattan

Philadelphia receding into the distance, at 5 pm we embarked on the next leg of our adventure - an overnight flight to Sweden. After we hopped a subway a block from our hotel in Philadelphia and were deposited directly at the airport (who says you can't find good public transit in the US),  we spend a short night flying against the sun, arriving at Frankfurt at dawn. We'd see a lot of Frankfurt airport this trip. Caught some sleep on airport benches, then boarded the connecting flight to Gothenburg. We were in Sweden!

It already felt like home as we glided in over forests and lakes. We landed outside Gothenburg, but what we really needed to do was get to Trollhattan where Ann was speaking at the Swedish university system's IT conference. A gray, rainy bus ride from the airport to central Gothenburg station, a short dalliance with the wrong ticket kiosk, and tickets in hand we boarded an intercity train headed for Oslo, - first stop,  Trollhattan.

I love riding trains. Partly because trains were part of my childhood - my father has always enjoyed trains and took the family on numerous train adventures. And because on a train you see things up close. Things as they are, not as the tourist bureaus show them, nor from 10,000 or 30,000 feet up. You can get such a feel for a city or a country from its trains.

This train looked pretty fast, but got off to a slow start as it worked through the switches and sidings of industrial Gothenburg. But it was smooooth. Already I was liking Sweden. A sense of order and a passion for quality infrastructure were evident. Even scrap yards looked neat and clean. I was expecting Switzerland later in our trip by reputation to win the Neatness Cup in a blowout, but now it looked to be a horse race. The train picked up pace outside the city limits - now we're talking. Not a bullet train, but easily a match for the best of Amtrack in the East. Neat, clean, quite and efficient.

We traced the Gota Alv river through broad, rich farmland framed by low, rocky, tree covered hills. Passing small towns and tree farms. An hour later we pulled into the Trollhattan station. We were traveling light for our two week European stay - one computer bag and one suitcase each. We dropped them off the overhead, detrained, and started our 8 block walk to the Scandic Hotel. The rain had stopped and the clouds were lifting as we crossed the central plaza. Hungry, we stopped in at a surprisingly good Thai restaurant (3 in 1 block!), then entered our historic hotel, and fell in bed, ready for a night of happy jet lagged dreams.