Sweden – a Green Land

On another cheap (100 złotys return) plane trip, I set off for Sweden. My destination was Stockholm, and the journey, as usual, began on the train to Warsaw. Getting from the city centre to Okęcie airport in the morning hours is quite a feat. Luckily the taxi driver knew some magic detours and I quickly made it to the airport. In the new terminal it smelled of lemons!

A quick check-in, since as usual I only took carry-on luggage (most of which was my camera and laptop), and I was already waiting to board the bus that would take me out to the plane. Flying to London with Ryanair, I had bought priority boarding.

This time I used the services of the sweet-and-pink carrier — Wizzair. Here too there was the option of buying the service — Priority boarding.

The right to priority boarding can be purchased at the gate. At some airports it will let you board the plane first; at others it may mean being driven to the plane on the first bus. We cannot, however, guarantee that you will be the first to get off the bus.

It's not worth using this option, since it lets you get on the bus before the other passengers. Better for me, because whoever got on the bus last got off it first. And so I boarded the plane third.

A window seat, and next to me a Japanese man with a phone so technologically advanced that the instruments in the plane's cockpit look ridiculous by comparison. A brief instruction on what to do in case of emergency and we were already flying at an altitude of 11 km above the clouds. The temperature outside the window was -50 degrees Celsius and we were racing across the sky at a speed of 800 km/h. And so, after 30 minutes of flight, you could see Gdańsk and its beautiful coastline.

An hour later I was already boarding bus number 715, which took me to the town of Nyköping. Just as in Spain, nobody forced their way onto the bus, unlike in Poland. People got on through the front doors, bought or validated a ticket and took a seat. Nobody got caught in the doors, nobody was left behind, and they even waited for the latecomers. And so, for 22 Swedish kronor, I reached the town, near the railway station close to which my hostel was — the Railway Hostel.

The first thing that caught my eye were the bicycles. There were loads of them. On every street, by every shop and house, bicycles stood. A few of them were locked to something.

The owner wasn't there. All I had was the code to open the door and the safe. I walked into reception and took an envelope with my name on it out of the safe. Inside were the keys to the room and a note with the amount I was to pay for the stay. I left the money in the safe and went to my room. Brilliant! A self-service hostel. Zero formalities.

As I left the room, a certain elderly man (65 years old) struck up a conversation with me. As it later turned out, he had flown here from Australia on holiday. His wife is Polish and for many years they have lived together in Tasmania. He offered me a banana and showed me the way to the little church on the rock.

It was a place where young people gathered to drink beer, smoke weed and chat about nonsense. Walking around the town, I didn't notice people with cigarettes or rubbish on the streets. It was very clean and green.

Another place worth visiting was one of the many little harbours. The shores were dotted with the masts of all sorts of boats. Quite a few of them were sailing out onto the open sea.

Standing on the pier and the shore with my camera, photographing the boats, everyone waved at me. One man even sailed over and offered me a cruise on the Baltic. Of course I agreed. I left all my electronic gear in his shed and we set off onto the open sea.

It rocked! Oh, how it rocked! What fun a short cruise on the Baltic is. I recommend it to anyone who isn't afraid of water. Next time I'll have to sail to Stockholm myself.

The cottages by the marinas look gorgeous. Everything is colourful, with a few bicycles and an electric car by each cottage. If only the water in the harbour were heated too.

It was time to head back. A few photos at sunset. The little town was going to sleep. The streets were empty. The town had gone utterly quiet. A few lights burned in the cottages. The cars were no longer driving. Wonderful silence. Another successful 3-day trip.