Solo in Stockholm: It's a cygne!

Did you know that Sweden is the first country that can be prescribed by doctors for a medical visit? After a few days there, I understand why. Here's how I celebrated a new decade of my life, from exploring Stockholm to now writing this ode to Sweden.

It's a Danish tale, but I've always loved swans thanks to the story of the "The Ugly Duckling" by Hans Christian Anderson. Seeing swans, always feels like a good sign (cygne as they are called in French).

I don't know when, but for a while, I've been keen to visit more of Scandinavia. Since my solo trip to Copenhagen, Denmark, two years ago, I've had a bit of a Scandinavian infatuation. This includes monthly trips to the Swedish candy shop (Scandi Candi Samedi as my best bubs and I call it, though apparently in Sweden they have an actual word for it: lördagsgodis).

I decided that I wanted to ring in my thirties with a trip, because I didn't want the stress of planning a party, and why would I ever want to spend my birthday working (honestly, who wants to work any day really, but one must work to fund their life...)? I planned my trip, and I told my boyfriend that he could join if he could, but alas, his job wouldn't let him have the extra days. So, I went solo to Stockholm.

What's pretty cool about Stockholm's geography is how the cluster of archipelagos make the city as vast as it is, but practical for its habitants with a reliable public transport system: trains, trams, buses, and boats (biking is also a great and encouraged option). Their SL app for all public transport is so simple. Even when I would take the train during rush hours, the carriage remained spacious and gracious. People gave up their seats to the elderly, and you weren't totally jam packed like sardines. Rather than penalising people who arrived at the airport without the right ticket, they simply designed the exit to catch people and ask them to buy the correct ticket in order to leave. Other than that, my other praise for the city has to go to the drivers. They actually give pedestrians right of way. I only saw a biker yell at a driver once while I was there, but that is a longstanding rivalry that transcends all cities.

On a post-breakfast walk to see the kastellet, I passed by these crowns on the bridge there.

My first full day in Sweden's capital started on the archipelago of museums, Djurgården. My morning was spent dancing with ABBA, because I heard the Swedish pop music before I even saw the museum. Overall, I think it's a museum to go to with friends rather than alone. The photo opps and interactive time capsule of the Swedish group could definitely be more appreciated as a shared experience. What I did find phenomenal was the fashion and how history was made by this group. Their story of coming together as individual lovers of music to becoming an international sensation, leaving a mark not only in Swedish history but as legends to the world. To that, I say Thank You for the Music, ABBA.

Afterwards, I moseyed on over to the Nordic Museum. This one I would definitely come back to and spend more time at, because 500 years of Nordic history is a lot to go through. The immersive storytelling drew me and other visitors into the lives of Swedish and Nordic people throughout the ages. From their lives as vikings, farmers, and even the indigenous Sami people, the actors on screen told the story of their people, painting a picture of their daily life and the different ideas and philosophies that were introduced over the course of time and trade.

I was ambitious that day, and I went to the Viking museum and Vasa museum right after. I ate a pocketed Wasa sandwich filled with cheese, tomato, and basil as a pick-me-up on the docks, while looking across the water between museum hopping. I highly recommend the Viking and Vasa museums. One of the strongest threads I saw between these museums (minus ABBA) was the Swedish presentation and strength in storytelling. The stories of the lives of people and civilisations presented before us show where we may or may not have evolved as a society. At the Vasa museum, we were immediately submerged into the story of a real-life boat that took 333 years to recover. From the life-size ship to the passengers' stories, woven together from the remnants they left and how they were found, it is probably the most recommended museum in Stockholm.

As I continued my abnormal ambitions of museum binging, I crossed the street towards Skansen, the world's oldest open-air museum and zoo with animals native to Scandinavia. I saw reindeer and even ate reindeer (I'm so sorry, I totally see the point to veganism and vegetarianism, but they were really flavourful!). I took my fika (the Swedish version of French goûter) there before running an errand at the pharmacy (needed to buy some Scandinavian shampoo and conditioner) and retreating to the BnB.

Fika at Skansen.

Now, I absolutely have to share a tidbit about my BnB hosts. They were the sweetest, Swedish couple who really have a heart for people. They are about the same age as my parents, and they were kind and open with me. They recounted chapters of their lives from fostering children while raising their own family, to their own experiences of Sweden in the 80s. Being as considerate as they were, they offered me a mini champagne bottle to celebrate my 30th.

"We don't normally do this with our guests." they told me while pouring a glass for us to share.

I smile thinking back on the conversations we had into the evenings. Their hospitality and recommended guides really helped me feel more at ease while navigating Stockholm. I told them I didn't want to leave when I reached my last day, and they invited me to stay anyway. I hope the best for them, because they really are deeply empathetic people who generously shared their stories of resilience and community, which I couldn't help but admire.

A most memorable breakfast! It was a Monday, and oh the joy I felt to be there and not logging into my job that morning.

The next day, I took a promenade to see the Kastellet and stopped by Skeppsbro Bakery for a kanelbullar (cinnamon roll - I had one every day and prefer it to a kardamummabullar, cardamom bun). Afterwards, I went to the royal palace and imagined myself as royalty in old town, Gamla Stan.

For lunch, I stopped by Tribowl for some much needed vegetables and ate a delicious, yet filling shrimp salad. The weather was perfect, so I put on my baseball cap to protect me from the sun's UV rays as I strolled about in Stockholm's cool, spring air. Surprisingly, wearing a baseball cap isn't some "American stereotype" in Sweden. A lot of Swedes wore it for practical reasons while going out and about. I confirm that I did see a lot of latte dads in the wild, and I thought it quite wholesome that Sweden supports their parents' work-life balance to raise their children. Furthermore, the city is quite accessible, and I noticed on a lot of stairwells a separate ramp designed for parents with strollers if they did not want to opt for the elevator.

I did some window shopping, because I had a few Swedish brands saved on my list. My hopes were to find an investment piece or staple to add to my closet from a Swedish brand. Alas, I did not succeed that day and ended up restocking my candy stash at the Bubs flagship store. I got my best bub and myself matching hats to sport on our next lördagsgodis.

Side note: The first evening I had arrived, after I stopped at Lidl for a few groceries, I had popped into Hemmakväll, a candy shop for all your sugar-high fantasies.

Such a cute store! I think my favourite bubs are the lemon and melon ones for the sourness in them.

My afternoon took me to Åhlens (they've got toilets on the top floor if you need) where I picked up some candle holders, kitchen towels, and a pack of pens. After all this strolling, I took a break at a park to continue reading my book before heading to one of the Vete-Katten cafés for a budapestlängd (budapest roll). They were out of princesstårta (princess cake), but I still enjoyed trying something different.

Thanks to my BnB hosts' recommendation, I had the opportunity to reserve a spa day for myself at the local sauna in the city centre at Sturebadet. It was intimidating going alone, but I survived! The spa had a gym, pool, Turkish bath (this was too cold for me), sauna, hammam, red light therapy, and it included a glass of champaign to enjoy on their top floor. I managed to ask a strangely, very handsome and fit Swedish man in his 50s+ for some advice on the order of operations. Maybe he was a low-key celebrity, because I definitely could have seen him on screen trying to sell me something. He and the other beautiful Swedish folk were so kind to reassure me that they would not judge me as long as I showered before the sauna. I left feeling very refreshed and ready to turn thirty the next day.

Random ad about AI in front of the sauna, which included Jude Law making a pun with his last name and very loud music.

On my actual birthday, I took the bus to Vaxholm, another archepelago in Stockholm county that is known for its beaches and very "Swedish summer" aesthetic. I could have taken the boat, but I wasn't so diligent with checking the time tables and opted for the good-ol' bus.

The buses in Stockholm are quite reliable, so I found myself enjoying a peaceful ride there on a cool yet sunny day in my periwinkle, blue cardigan and bootcut jeans. I did notice that more women in Stockholm wore bootcut jeans than in Paris, where I feel cigarette/straight leg jeans reign supreme. I felt very cute in my birthday look completed with my trusty, thrifted dark brown, leather jacket and light blue cashmere scarf that I bought in Oxford some years back when I chose one for my mom then too (she has a purple plaid one).

Vaxholm was meditative for me. I spent time journaling as I have implemented this practice into my daily routine to try and strengthen my neuroplasticity into healthier ways of thought. I took the time to thank the universe for letting me make it to 30 years, for this wonderful life I get to experience, for the health I have, for the family and friends I have, for celebrating my birthday in Sweden. I just feel so incredibly grateful and lucky to be so rich in the life I live. I say this recognising the immense privilege I have in a world so encumbered by injustice, prejudices, and broken systems led by insecure and poor-intentioned people. The tides can always turn, so I remain thankful for the present.

It was a tad bit chilly, but the right clothes can do wonders against nature's whims. It was honestly the perfect cake on a gorgeous day by the seaside.

Vaxholm was like a seaside town where a romantic, beach read should take place. From the Swedish styled, colourful houses to the cute shops on main street, I could see a story write itself. I enjoyed my contemplative morning there and finished the visit with a smoked salmon smørrebrød and a view of the seaport at the local bakery.

I was too impatient to wait another hour for the boat back to Stockholm, so I took the bus once again. A girl even asked me for directions, so I guess I must have looked like a local. What a compliment!

Back in Stockholm, I glimpsed at a few of the first cherry blossoms in kungsträdgården and walked over to södermalm, another neighbourhood of Stockholm to spend the rest of my birthday. I popped into The English Bookshop and picked up a few books authored by Swedish writers thanks to the recommendations of the book keeper. I picked up two box sets of Danish and Swedish classics and "Quicksand" by Malin Persson Giolito, which is about an 18-year old girl accused of a crime and the trial ensuite that reveals the story. I've already finished reading it and am watching the Netflix show too. It's definitely an unreliable narrator situation, but it builds good intrigue as some authors can be guilty of revealing everything at once instead of letting the story reveal itself.

After wandering through some other shops, I went to the viewpoint at Skinnarviksberget. From there, I walked along Mariaberget, which was a wooden path that allowed you to walk along the waterside and enjoy more sights of Stockholm. The sunlight hitting the city was a masterpiece. The streets and spring air were truly a gift that day.

There was a thrift store called "Grandpa" just behind me when I took this photo and crossed over to the English Bookshop.

I stopped by a thrift shop called Judits in the södermalm neighbourhood of Stockholm. This is where I found my staple piece from a Swedish brand for 30 euros: a light pink, Merino wool cardigan by Filippa K. I felt like a winner, and the winner does take it all!

I finished my birthday with an early dinner at Meatballs for the People for a traditional meatball dinner, complete with lingonberry sauce and mashed potatoes.

A cute display at the Nordic Museum right before walking to the toilets.

My final day was less eventful, but I did stock up on some more Swedish snacks to bring home and even got Raf (our beautiful cat) reindeer meat to try. I caved and tried one of my bookmarked burger places. I know, we can eat good burgers in Paris too, but this was conveniently where I was when I was hungry. Can I admit that not paying extra for fries at Franky's burger was such a small but well-appreciated aspect compared to some burger places in Paris? Their chilli mayo dip was divine with the fries and worth paying a little extra to complete the experience.

Before heading off to the airport, I stopped by Gunnarsons bakery for one last princesstårta and two more kanelbullars to take home with me.

I haven't yet deciphered if the reluctant feeling to leave was, because my holidays were ending and my return to real-life and work was impending, or if the feeling of freedom and a sense of belonging was something I glimpsed at while I was in Stockholm. An observation I had about the Swedes of Stockholm was the relaxed vibe I got from them. I can't say this is the case for everyone, but people left work promptly at 17H, or so it seemed. Metros were never THAT crowded, even when I was going into the city during rush hour. Sidewalks had space, and people weren't too concerned about carrying designer bags or wearing leather shoes. No, the people in Stockholm spoke to me in Swedish, which weirdly made me feel a sense of belonging even if I don't look natively Swedish. People seemed to smoke less (though I've been told lots of people use snuff up in the north), and people overall looked healthy. Maybe it was the nature surrounding them. The feeling of freedom came from no longer keeping up appearances. Perhaps my own perceptions had changed as I grow more confident in my own skin, and I felt less watched or judged, but rather people don't mind how you were or how you lived as long as it wasn't causing a nuisance to those around you.

Raf loved reindeer meat.

Home is where Enzo and Raf are for me now, which is Paris. I returned with a full heart and new knowledge about Swedish culture and history. Perhaps as I continue to mature and grow into my thirty, flirty, and thriving decade, I can incorporate the Swedish concept of lagom into my way of life. I may not find perfect balance, but maybe lagom enough, is good enough.

Thanks for taking some minutes out of your day to read my blog. Perhaps this will inspire your next solo trip anywhere or even to Stockholm, because self-reflection, nature, and rest are chicken soup for the soul.