This is what I have to say about visiting four major world capitals in four days: it was sheer lunacy, and far too exhausting, to cram into four, eight hour days, the likes of Tallinn (Latitude 59° 26' 2" N ), Helsinki (60° 10' 32" N), Stockholm (59° 20' N), and Copenhagen (Latitude 55° 40 N).
Fortunately, I had been to two of them before, but it was so long ago that they are essentially out of memory.
Tallinn: This was day one of a three day rainy period. But…we had raingear, and the city was small enough that we didn’t feel rushed to get from one site to another. We hopped a tourist bus, did the circuit, then stayed on until it brought us back to a place we wanted to explore—a lovely park and a royal palace built as a summer home for Russian royalty in the 17th century. By now it had stopped raining so we were able to enjoy the grounds. From there we got back on the bus and had it deposit us at the top of the city—the Upper Town. From there it was a slow walk through a jumble of 14th and 15th Century turrets, spires and winding streets back to the boat in the Lower Town. Tallinn was an interesting fusion of medieval and modern. In the 14th Century it had been part of the Hanseatic League—a mercantile league made up of medieval towns on trade routes between Germany and Russia.
By 2:30 rains, which had held until now, put an end to our touring. We pulled out raincoats and umbrellas, but it just wasn’t fun slogging though the wet streets. We made our way back to the Sun and geared up for our two days stay in St. Petersburg.
Helsinki: It was Saturday, September 17th and a gloriously sunny day to tour Finland’s capital. The four of us spend part of the morning at the huge weekend market that took over the harbor. Vendors were selling gooseberries and lingenberries, in season now in southern Finland. They looked just like cranberries but were sweet instead of tart. Vegetable sellers had piles of mushrooms they told had been handpicked in the forests surrounding the city.
But I had a specific goal in Helsinki—to visit Seurasaari—the capital’s open air museum. Using a Swedish model, Helsinki began to collect traditional buildings that would otherwise have been torn down as the modern overtook the old. Think Shelburne Museum, only in Scandinavia. For me, it was an opportunity to leave center city, take a train to the suburbs, walk a mile to an island in a lake and explore centuries old structures—a stave church, old sod houses, barns. There were even a few larger homes, a school and a store. All of these had come from small communities and had been in use from the 18th and 19th Century. What a perfect way to preserve Finland’s traditional past—especially in a country that embraces “modern” in its architectural preference.
Finland and Iceland are the only two countries in Scandinavia without a medieval past. Consequently, just as it was in Reykjavik, almost everything was built in the20th Century. Personally, it was great to take a look at sleek homes and clean lined apartment buildings.
By 5:00 p.m. we were back on the boat doing our homework for yet another whirlwind tour, the following day—Stockholm.
Stockholm: Sunday morning. September 18th. What a sumptuous city, untouched by the ravages of World War II, its rich medieval past untouched. Stockholm, too, had been a member of the Hanseatic League and Sweden’s wealth had preserved its majestic 15th Century waterfront and the Gamla Stan, the 13th Century core of the old city.
We were on yet another “see as much as possible in one day” tour of yet another northern European city and we hustled from center city, down the harbor and past block after block of magnificent buildings constructed in the 1400’s. My goal was to visit Skansa, the first open air museum in the world of preserved architecture from the past. In Sweden’s rush to modernity, many traditional buildings were destroyed, but thanks to the vision of one man at the end of the 19th century, over 150 traditional structures have been saved and placed on a hilltop overlooking Stockholm harbor. Staff in period costume manned a church from the 1790’s, a small town grocery store from the 1930’s and a manor house from the 1840’s.
My time was limited, though, and I also wanted to spend time in the historic core of the city—Gamla Stan. It was Sunday and the streets were as quiet as they would be in a week’s time. I was awe-struck by the preserved beauty of these buildings that dated to the 1200’s. But I was also tuckered out and stepped into St. Gertrude’s Church in the center of Gamla Stan, mostly to rest my legs and take a break from the rapid pace walking I’d done all day. And what a treat awaited me—really the best image I have of Stockholm in all of this rushed day. There were only a few of in the church when the organist began to practice. For over an hour I just sat there, soaking up the beauty of this spectacular building, listening to 18th century music Bach had written for the organ. What a highlight and what a way to end my short stay in this best of Scandinavian cities.
Copenhagen: This was the only city in which I didn’t feel rushed. I’d been to Copenhagen in the 1980’s and we started the Baltic portion of the cruise here with, for me, a full day to spare. It’s here, on the last day of the Baltic cruise, that we bid good bye to Pam and Graden who were on their way to Berlin. My goal for the day was a small town 30 kilometers away from the center—Roskilde—home to the burial place of Danish kings and queens. I wasn’t sorry to miss the city. We’d been told that 22,000 bikers had emerged into Copenhagen for a biking world championship and that many streets had been closed off. It was a good day to leave.
Roskilde is the site of the first Christian church in the country built by the Viking king Harald Bluetooth in 980 AD. The current cathedral, which I’d come to see, was started in 1170 and added on to and rebuilt so often that it represents a 1,000 years of Danish architectural styles. Its tall spiky spires seemed disproportionate with the solidity of the rest of the building.
Back in town, I had plenty of time to explore the narrow streets of this tony, wealthy town. Danes here lived well—in glass, wood and chrome Danish-modern apartment buildings or in large 18th Century manor houses. Mid afternoon I spent 120 kroner for a muffin and cup of cappuccino--$12.00 US. Someone has to pay for top notch social welfare!
That afternoon both of us got back to the ship with plenty of time to spare. The Norwegian Sun had delayed its departure due to street closures and passenger inability to get to the ship on time.
“Cool beans,” I said as we stood on deck as the great ship blasted its great horns threee times. The second portion of the cruise had begun—a 16 day trans-Atlantic crossing that would also stop at four ports.
Around 7:00 p.m. it pushed its way out of Nordhavn, Copenhagen’s harbor and into the North Sea.
Cool beans indeed!
Fortunately, I had been to two of them before, but it was so long ago that they are essentially out of memory.
Tallinn: This was day one of a three day rainy period. But…we had raingear, and the city was small enough that we didn’t feel rushed to get from one site to another. We hopped a tourist bus, did the circuit, then stayed on until it brought us back to a place we wanted to explore—a lovely park and a royal palace built as a summer home for Russian royalty in the 17th century. By now it had stopped raining so we were able to enjoy the grounds. From there we got back on the bus and had it deposit us at the top of the city—the Upper Town. From there it was a slow walk through a jumble of 14th and 15th Century turrets, spires and winding streets back to the boat in the Lower Town. Tallinn was an interesting fusion of medieval and modern. In the 14th Century it had been part of the Hanseatic League—a mercantile league made up of medieval towns on trade routes between Germany and Russia.
By 2:30 rains, which had held until now, put an end to our touring. We pulled out raincoats and umbrellas, but it just wasn’t fun slogging though the wet streets. We made our way back to the Sun and geared up for our two days stay in St. Petersburg.
Helsinki: It was Saturday, September 17th and a gloriously sunny day to tour Finland’s capital. The four of us spend part of the morning at the huge weekend market that took over the harbor. Vendors were selling gooseberries and lingenberries, in season now in southern Finland. They looked just like cranberries but were sweet instead of tart. Vegetable sellers had piles of mushrooms they told had been handpicked in the forests surrounding the city.
But I had a specific goal in Helsinki—to visit Seurasaari—the capital’s open air museum. Using a Swedish model, Helsinki began to collect traditional buildings that would otherwise have been torn down as the modern overtook the old. Think Shelburne Museum, only in Scandinavia. For me, it was an opportunity to leave center city, take a train to the suburbs, walk a mile to an island in a lake and explore centuries old structures—a stave church, old sod houses, barns. There were even a few larger homes, a school and a store. All of these had come from small communities and had been in use from the 18th and 19th Century. What a perfect way to preserve Finland’s traditional past—especially in a country that embraces “modern” in its architectural preference.
Finland and Iceland are the only two countries in Scandinavia without a medieval past. Consequently, just as it was in Reykjavik, almost everything was built in the20th Century. Personally, it was great to take a look at sleek homes and clean lined apartment buildings.
By 5:00 p.m. we were back on the boat doing our homework for yet another whirlwind tour, the following day—Stockholm.
Stockholm: Sunday morning. September 18th. What a sumptuous city, untouched by the ravages of World War II, its rich medieval past untouched. Stockholm, too, had been a member of the Hanseatic League and Sweden’s wealth had preserved its majestic 15th Century waterfront and the Gamla Stan, the 13th Century core of the old city.
We were on yet another “see as much as possible in one day” tour of yet another northern European city and we hustled from center city, down the harbor and past block after block of magnificent buildings constructed in the 1400’s. My goal was to visit Skansa, the first open air museum in the world of preserved architecture from the past. In Sweden’s rush to modernity, many traditional buildings were destroyed, but thanks to the vision of one man at the end of the 19th century, over 150 traditional structures have been saved and placed on a hilltop overlooking Stockholm harbor. Staff in period costume manned a church from the 1790’s, a small town grocery store from the 1930’s and a manor house from the 1840’s.
My time was limited, though, and I also wanted to spend time in the historic core of the city—Gamla Stan. It was Sunday and the streets were as quiet as they would be in a week’s time. I was awe-struck by the preserved beauty of these buildings that dated to the 1200’s. But I was also tuckered out and stepped into St. Gertrude’s Church in the center of Gamla Stan, mostly to rest my legs and take a break from the rapid pace walking I’d done all day. And what a treat awaited me—really the best image I have of Stockholm in all of this rushed day. There were only a few of in the church when the organist began to practice. For over an hour I just sat there, soaking up the beauty of this spectacular building, listening to 18th century music Bach had written for the organ. What a highlight and what a way to end my short stay in this best of Scandinavian cities.
Copenhagen: This was the only city in which I didn’t feel rushed. I’d been to Copenhagen in the 1980’s and we started the Baltic portion of the cruise here with, for me, a full day to spare. It’s here, on the last day of the Baltic cruise, that we bid good bye to Pam and Graden who were on their way to Berlin. My goal for the day was a small town 30 kilometers away from the center—Roskilde—home to the burial place of Danish kings and queens. I wasn’t sorry to miss the city. We’d been told that 22,000 bikers had emerged into Copenhagen for a biking world championship and that many streets had been closed off. It was a good day to leave.
Roskilde is the site of the first Christian church in the country built by the Viking king Harald Bluetooth in 980 AD. The current cathedral, which I’d come to see, was started in 1170 and added on to and rebuilt so often that it represents a 1,000 years of Danish architectural styles. Its tall spiky spires seemed disproportionate with the solidity of the rest of the building.
Back in town, I had plenty of time to explore the narrow streets of this tony, wealthy town. Danes here lived well—in glass, wood and chrome Danish-modern apartment buildings or in large 18th Century manor houses. Mid afternoon I spent 120 kroner for a muffin and cup of cappuccino--$12.00 US. Someone has to pay for top notch social welfare!
That afternoon both of us got back to the ship with plenty of time to spare. The Norwegian Sun had delayed its departure due to street closures and passenger inability to get to the ship on time.
“Cool beans,” I said as we stood on deck as the great ship blasted its great horns threee times. The second portion of the cruise had begun—a 16 day trans-Atlantic crossing that would also stop at four ports.
Around 7:00 p.m. it pushed its way out of Nordhavn, Copenhagen’s harbor and into the North Sea.
Cool beans indeed!
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