Once at their polling location, they take a small piece of paper (maybe a quarter sheet of our normal notebook paper) that corresponds to the party they want to vote for. On the paper are the names of the people whom the party will place in open government positions (like parliament) if that party is voted in. Before turning in the paper, they can choose to check a box next to one or more names, which would be a vote to move that person up to the top of the list. All votes are counted by hand, and the election results are not officially known until approximately Wednesday.
Lena left the apartment early Sunday morning to vote, and after a nice breakfast we left for the train station. I checked my bag into a locker and we were off on our Sunday adventure. The day was again cloudy and wet, but we were in good moods as we traveled about an hour by train, then maybe 20 minutes by bus to reach the ferry dock. By the time we arrived, the clouds has thinned and for the first time since my 
arrival in Sweden, I missed my sunglasses.The ferry ride was maybe 5 minutes long, and we landed in the quaint little seaside town of Marstrand (marsh-trand). Apparently a popular place for Swedish celebrities to vacation, it was fairly deserted so we quickly climbed the hill to fortress, stopping only to take a peek into the little church (of Sweden) as the service had just let out. We paid our entrance fee, and wandered through the dark and gloomy stone rooms that served as a prison for the worst criminals over a hundred years ago.
One famous criminal, Lasse Maja, is well known to most Swedes as the charming conman sentenced to life at Marstrand. Discovering that he could cook, however, he was promoted to cooking for the warden and let out after only 25 years. During his stay, he earned money by standing where visitors could see and hear him, and telling stories of how he conned people out of their money. He would stop half way through the
story and announce that he would continue only if the spectators threw him coins. Entering the tiny cells that were cold and dark even in the middle of a warm fall day, you could imagine what they would have felt (and smelled) like in the middle of winter, crowded with unwashed prisoners.We decided to walk up the steps to the top of the tower. The design of these steps is typical, from what I have seen, of Swedish architecture, both residential and commercial. Unlike our rectangular steps, these are nearly
triangular in shape, so that only one side actually feels wide enough (to me) to safely walk on. Lena told me that it is customary, when coming upon 
someone going in the opposite direction, to allow the person descending to take the wide side, while the person ascending must negotiate the very shallow steps on the other.At the top of the long flight of steep stone steps, we were discouraged to find a locked metal door. As we turned to go back down, a young man was coming up and said his sister had given him the key and sent him to open it for us!
Though the wind had picked up and the clouds had begun to roll back in, the view was spectacular. Sea on all sides, the grassy tops of the fortress walls and battlements, pastel-painted houses, and many sail boats. We even talked the young man into taking our picture before he disappeared back down the steps.A quick back walk to the town, a little
shopping in the cute seaside-themed shops (!) and it was time for fika. I wasn't sure why Lena called it fika since it was maybe 1:00 by then and we both ordered sandwiches. Mine was typical of a Swedish smorgås (smore-go-us) with lettuce, a wedge of tomato, some brie, salami, sprouts, cucumber, and a little sundried tomato. They don't seem concerned that one get some of each 
ingredient in every bite. It was really delicious.Back on the ferry, to the bus, to the train, which was standing-room-only since many people were head to Göteborg for a big soccer match. I have to admit that after so much walking, standing on the train, even for just 20 minutes, was tortuous.
Off the train, and a quick stop in a bookstore for a gift for Pär. I really love that almost every store (even grocery stores!) have a little self-serve gift wrap station stocked with wrapping paper, scissors, tape, and ribbon. Can you even imagine something like that in the U.S.? There would be complaints about the color of paper, and lawsuits involving people cutting their fingers off with the scissors. Oh well, I can appreciate them here.Soon enough we were off the train and headed for a short walk to the opera house. On the way, Lena fretted that I would be hungry before I could eat again. "But we just had sandwiches for lunch an hour ago" I protested. "Lisa. When will you learn that smorgås is never considered lunch in Sweden?" Seemed like lunch to me!
Pär and Lena had purchased us tickets to see the Stravinsky opera called "The Rake's Progress" at the beautiful Göteborg Opera House. Shaped like a ship, it sits at the harbor between a skyscraper nicknamed the "lipstick" and a new ferris wheel. The opera was sung in English with Swedish supertitles and was delightful. Great costumes, lovely music and a fun, easy-to-follow plotline kept me
awake and focused (though the coffee at the train station contributed to Pär commenting on my being a bit "pigg" ... loosely translated as lively or spry. At intermission we had snacks and beverages at little tables with white cloths that looked out over the sunset-colored sea. A rather magic evening with two really wonderful Swedish friends.When the opera finished we went to fetch my overnight bag from the locker. "Is it in the train station or the bus station?" Pär asked. Ummmm...it was downstairs? I'm so hopeless. Where was Dan and his super-power sense of direction. I had no idea what building the bag was in. Fortunately we found it after a relatively short search and were on our way home. I like that the opera started early enough that it was done by 9pm. Doesn't it seem like our plays and such always start at 7 or 8 and run until 10 or 11? Since I am definitely a morgon pigg and not a natt uggla, this way worked much better for me.
Another magical day in Sweden. Only three more to go.
No comments:
Post a Comment