Lost in Gamla Stan

It’s a bright sunny day in Stockholm, and yet I’m grabbing for the warmth hidden in my navy-blue sweater sleeves. I’m standing on one of the four bridges that lead to Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s old town; on the other side a different world exists.

The Old Town is an endless maze of winding cobblestone paths, with candy-coloured, eighteenth century buildings flanking them on both sides; a few remind me of the gingerbread house, from the tale of Hansel and Gretel. Peeping out from their midst is a church spiral, and hidden around the bend is the Royal Palace. If ever a fairytale needed a setting, this is it.


Gamla Stan is the heart of the Scandinavian capital, and it opens up at Stortorget, the old square. It’s still early, but already a street band fills the morning air with music. On the sidelines delicious cafes are hard at work; little wooden tables, draped in red chequered tablecloth, are serving out hot coffee and pastries. As the crowd swells, waitresses dart in and out with the day’s orders, while their guests enjoy the music and toss a few coins into empty guitar cases. It makes for a pretty picture, a sharp contrast to the history of the square: this is the scene of the infamous ‘Stockholm Bloodbath.’ In November 1520, the Danish King, Christian II, had all his political rivals, comprising a large section of Swedish aristocracy, beheaded in this very square. The act would lead to an uprising and the end of his reign.


A I stroll along, I learn that the city of Stockholm was born here, before spreading out to include the fourteen islands that form the city today. This is the oldest part of the city, and also its biggest attraction. This is the seat of Swedish Royalty. The official palace – Kungliga Slottet – sits on the waterfront, towering over locals and tourists alike. The palace is open to the public, and a visit is recommended. The interiors are lavish and house some very interesting museums: The Royal Armoury holds an intriguing collection of medieval weapons; The Royal Treasury exhibits the crowned jewels; and The Museum of Antiquities stores many priceless treasures from the past.


Everyday, from May to September, the change of guard ceremony takes place outside the palace. I arrive just in time as synchronised marching boots halt in front of me – attention! Stand at ease! The guards perform this ritual with a fantastical sense of duty and patience; ever tolerant of the many cameras flashing in their faces.



A few cobbled feet away stands Stockholm’s oldest cathedral – Storkyrkan, the address for all royal weddings and coronations. Adding to the prestigious company, you’ll also find the House of Knights and the spectacular Knights garden here, as well as the Nobel Museum and Library. The museum was opened in 2001 to mark a hundred year’s of the prize and showcases portraits and citations of the winners.

Of all Gamla Stan’s landmarks, the most magical are perhaps the old alleyways, and walking past them is just as fascinating. Some are impossibly narrow, just slight openings between ancient buildings, it is a mystery how they manage to hold the tourists that flood them all through the day. At either end you’ll find quirky little souvenir stores; miniature trolls and Vikings, dressed up in helmets and swords, stand outside, luring tourists into buying bags worth of souvenirs.



Like the rest of Sweden, the old town too is a showcase of the country’s multi-ethnic atmosphere, which for first time visitors comes as a pleasant surprise. Store windows display little statues of Buddha, Krishna and Mary, all standing side by side. Outside a million tourists, speaking a dozen different languages, jostle past hot-dog kiosks and street performers, singers (they all have a slight bias for Dylan and Alanis numbers), jugglers and artists. It’s easy to envy those who work and live in these quarters; despite the endless crowds it never once loses it charm.

Along with the history and the culture, another attraction here is food. There are a number of chic cafes and restaurants on the menu: while some choose to spill out on the street, enjoying the bright midnight sun, others prefer a more interesting modus operandi – serving out of underground, or cellar cafes. Unless you are claustrophobic, these make for a memorable culinary experience. Keeping in sync with the city’s multi-ethnic attitude, a variety of world cuisine is on offer across Gamla Stan. The real adventure, however, lies in a plate of traditional Swedish food: cloudberry jam, a choice between reindeer, elk and moose, served with mashed potatoes, and rounded off with some traditionally made vanilla ice-cream topped with warm wildberry jam.



I could spend the whole day wandering these alleys, but across the bridges the rest of the city waits. The City Hall, an imposing brick figure spread across the landscape, beckons from the other side, and I succumb. As I walk in a number of elegant statues greet me, following my awestruck progress from their enclaves high in the walls. Ahead, towards the waterfront brick gives way to soft green lawns, each with a fountain, statues and a flowerbed. Along with a spectacular view of the city, you’ll also see young couples with family and friends, some waiting to be wed, others newly wed; there is confetti and flowers, and beautiful wedding gowns.

Stockholm is thirty percent park and thirty percent water – you can tell just by how sweet the air tastes. This makes walking around the city, along the waterfront, across the many bridges, past the squawking gulls and expensive boats anchored in, even more special. A must do here is the archipelago cruise; stopover at the Djurgarden island park, at the Vasa Museum. The Vasa was the Swedish navy’s most sophisticated battleship. She set sail on her maiden voyage in 1628, only to sink a few meters away from the harbour. In 1961 she was raised and restored, becoming one of Sweden’s most visited tourist attraction. Right next to it is the Nordic Museum holding exhibits of cultural, historic and artistic importance, and the Skansen Open Air Museum, one of Europe’s oldest museums; it offers a glimpse to the Swedish way of life.



Royalty, history, sightseeing; It’s been a long day. My feet have taken in every inch of the city, and as the midnight sun calls it a day, casting long shadows into the night, I decide to follow suit. I settle down at a cosy little restaurant by the waterfront; the perfect end to a perfect day in Stockholm.



A version of this appeared in the Hindustan Times on 21/2/08

A postcard called Plitvice

Painted in the quiet of Croatia’s mountains lies the Plitvice National Park (pronounced Plit-vi-tchka). The park is a string of sixteen blue-green lakes drawn across the Mala Kapela and Pljesevica mountain ranges; and between them is a trail of spectacular scenery - gushing brooks and flowering meadows; caves and wooden bridges above crystal clear waters.


The entrance to the park itself is enchanting –a cluster of chocolate brown log cabins where you can choose your route and purchase an entry ticket to the facility. A park bus then drops you off to the trailhead, and from there onwards the park is a maze of walkways and trails draped in brilliant landscapes. The park offers a number of different routes based on time. The smaller trails take you through all the must-see points within two hours; a great option if one is short on time. However, if you aren’t in a hurry, I recommend the four-six hour trek. On paper it looks back-breaking, and like me if you’d rather curl into a couch, book in hand, a little panic is bound to set in.


Once you step into the park, however, fears of collapsing mid-way simply ebb away. And awe sets in as you snake in and out of cascading waterfalls, past flitting rainbows, over jaded lakes and into rusty mountain caves. The trail is drawn out to ensure a leisurely trek. The steep climbs are woven together with long easy wooden bridges. Wooden benches sit along the path in case you need a break, or simply want to take in the scenery. Not once do you feel exhausted; not till the next morning, when your legs feel as heavy as a dozen tree trunks, do you realise it.


The brilliance of the park lies in its changing features, especially between the Upper and Lower Lake regions. The Upper Lakes lie on a dolomite valley. Surrounded by dense forests, this part makes for a particularly interesting hike. Giant trees form long spells of archways, and the walkways glide past thundering waterfalls and wild flower beds. If you are lucky, you might even cross paths with an endangered European brown bear, though chances are, it’ll be the chatter of a thousand birds that’ll guide you around all day. You never really get used to the prettiness around, which is a good thing; the sights keep your mind off the altitude, the steep fall and any other such silly distracting thought.


Silent electric boats ferry tourists across the big lake, taking you to the other side. The Lower Lakes, in comparison, paint a very different picture. These lakes lie on a limestone bed and are surrounded by small bursts of shrubs and bushes. The lakes here are shallower; you can see the lake floor, the undergrowth and the lively trout through the sparkling clear water; it’s almost criminal that you aren’t allowed a swim. There are a number of smaller cascades here; some are named after local patrons; it gives the park a personal touch, and also involves the community in preserving this natural wonder.


The park is of great significance in local politics and history. It was here that the first shots, triggering the Croatian War of Independence, were fired on Easter Sunday in March 1991. As the conflict between Croatian forces and Serb separatists escalated, the park suffered great damage. Locals had to be evacuated – most spent the war years as refugees; the hotels and other facilities within the park were reduced to barracks, and a large area was infected with landmines. When the war ended in August 1995, UNESCO immediately added Plitvice to its List of World Heritage in Danger, working with local officials to restore the park to its original magnificence.


Today, other than a memorial to a fallen officer, the first casualty of the war, you can’t see any war scars around the Lakes. Recovery has been swift mainly due to two reasons – fantastic management by park officials; and because of the local geography. The Lakes lie in a Karstic basin, and are blessed with the prevalence of a re-generating limestone called travertine. Travertine grows quickly, constantly creating and recreating the pools, barriers, and cascades; preserving the beauty of the region for an eternity. The park today features high up on the UNESCO World Heritage list.


The magic of Lakes can be seen in their ever changing colours; swirling between the dozen shades of blue and green. A friend tells me that there was a time, before the wars, when the Lakes were a popular wedding destination. Every year, couples from all over the country would exchange vows in tiny boats, under the big waterfall. Today stringent environmental laws make such practices impossible. He also tells me about the many caves found here. In the 1960s, many popular German and Italian westerns were filmed here. It’s common to see bus loads of German tourists pointing excitedly at what must be movie landmarks; sort of a German Switzerland, I guess.

And last but not the least is the big feast waiting for you at the park restaurant. Situated on the edge of the big lake, here you’ll find a spread of picnic tables and local delicacies; the aroma of fresh food and coffee mingling with the mint green of leaves. And after a day of adventure, a hearty meal, and a stop at the souvenir shop, as you make your way back, you can’t help but turn around for just one more photograph; after all, the park is but one giant postcard.



A version of this appeared in the Hindustan Times on 22/11/07

A coffee break

On a recent day trip, we stopped at a stunning little village for a much needed coffee break.


The little country homes were built around a chirpy brook that ran through. Cobbled pathways curled around it, leading us onto the many patios serving out hot coffee and sandwiches.


Delicious coffee, a breath-taking view, tiny flour mills, little log cabins, and drying laundry – it was getting late, but we didn’t want to leave.

History, soaked in colour and wood

Across the Bergen Harbour I can see the medieval district of Bryggen. It is a fascinating sight; a row of colourful, crooked wooden buildings from an era long gone, effortlessly blending in with the 21^st century.

Bryggen is the only surviving settlement from the Hanseatic era; the oldest structure here dates way back to the 15th century. As we walk towards this series of 61 protected buildings, I'm half worried they will topple over and collapse; instead they stand strong, shoulder to shoulder across 13, 000 square meters of land.

As you step into these narrow alleys, you leave the 21st century far behind. Inside you find a clutter of over hanging balconies, shared passages, over beams and wobbly stairways. There is just about enough space for two people to walk together. It’s hard to imagine that these lop-sided buildings were once the head quarters of the influential Hanseatic League, a trading partnership between German and Scandinavian merchants trading along the Baltic ports.

Many of these little rooms and cellars served as offices, warehouses and lodgings for the League. This is where they led their insular lifestyle, following a strict code of conduct; they had their own education system, laws and were known never to mingle with the locals. Their lives revolved around work, fires and reconstructions. A number of monstrous fires have ravaged the district over the years. The worst fire broke out in 1702 when the entire settlement, apart from one or two stone cellars, was burnt to ash. The last major fire to sweep through the area was in 1955. Today only a quarter of the original construction survives.

The smell of dried fish and the sacks of stored grain have now made way for little souvenir shops, artists’ studios and craft workshops. Set against the aged window frames are enticing souvenirs; a row of Vikings look through the gleaming windows, straight at me. Behind them I can spot a bunch of trolls, and in the corners a few reindeer have gathered, some posing as candle holders, others as bookmarks. The stores are flooded in a warm yellow light. There are racks of Norwegian sweaters waiting to be bought. Near the counter stand lines and lines of stunning postcards. Even though I have already bought four, I can’t resist picking one more.

Outside, the shared passages are narrow and dark. I peep into closed windows and discover trendy little pubs and restaurants. These draw large crowds every evening. The food is scrumptious and the drinks flow in these rooms built hundreds of years ago.

The walkways open up to stone paved courtyards. Neat manicured gardens sit at the edges. A water sprinkler is spinning around, a modern addition to this ancient world. Here you’ll find Bryggeparken - a medieval vegetable patch, the Hanseatic Museum, and a little out door café. During the summer several guided walks are available to Bryggen; you can learn the history, sip on a cup of coffee and take a million pictures. Every tourist who walks through these wooden frames stops at the heart of the ancient construction, at the old wishing well. Red benches sit against the cracks in the old stone walls. The stone walls in turn hold on to two shiny plaques which proudly pronounce Bryggen as a World Heritage Site. Any coins dropped in the well, I learn, go towards the conservation of Bryggen. I toss a coin in, close my eyes and make a wish; who knows may be it will come true; maybe I’ll come back here soon.

A version of this appeared in the Hindustan Times – 23/08/07

Hangover Street

There are lots of places in and around Zagreb where you can unwind, but by far the most popular is Tkalciceva Ulica (pronounced Kal-chi-cheva, and Ulica meaning Street) - the party street of the capital. Here you’ll find a row of pubs, café-bars, coffee shops, restaurants, gift-stores, fast food joints and even quaint art galleries etched into the sides of the street.

This is one of Zagreb’s oldest streets. It is also one of the prettiest. Before the unification of Zagreb, Tkalciceva sat between the rivalling quarters of the Upper Town and Kaptol (both of which are part of the old city of Zagreb, today). Where once the street played peacemaker between the two rivals, today it shrewdly steals their tourists and enchants them with party spirits, willing them to stay in its arms well into the night.


The street makes quite a picture. Tiny bits of squared tar mat the street, swerving deftly into the corners and disappearing somewhere behind brown tables with beer bottle-stains. On either side stand proud Baroque homes; almost every home here today serves out a heady café or a scrumptious gift shop out of their living rooms.

Little tables and chairs spill out onto the side walk, colourful street umbrellas stand on their toes, hoping to catch some free space overhead. On Fridays the whole city can be found here, and you’ve got to be really lucky to find either a parking spot or an empty space. On the menu is a mix match of parties - from bohemian spots like Melin, to the chic overtones of Oliver Twist. The mantra being - choose your mood; choose your party.


There's no way you can go wrong with coffee in Zagreb; every place serves a killer cup. But the beer isn't bad either. More importantly it isn’t expensive. You could go for one of the popular international brands or try a mug of the local beer – the list is endless, but a few of the more popular beers here include Karlovasco, Tomislav and Oujsko. What took me a little getting used to is that none of the cafes or the pubs serve food - no sandwiches, not even peanuts. Some of them are nice enough to let you buy your munchies from near by stalls and polish them off at the cafe tables, with the drinks they serve.

Tkalca, as it is better known, is really where all East European clichés unwind, with a cool pint; gorgeous women with never ending legs; not so gorgeous men with enormous beer bellies; giant backpacks with their bent tourists somewhere below; narrow winding streets dotted with multi-coloured cafes; and the obligatory church tower beaming overhead. All just hanging around to have a good time.

Bits of Bergen

Bryggen – the face of Bergen

The Bergen Waterfront

Don’t miss the Indian restaurant on the left

A stone celler in Bryggen - one of the oldest buildings in Bergen

Spooky, isn’t he?

The Bergen Castle

The waterfront in a splash of colours

I’ve never seen penguins before. They are so beyond cool.

I love the crazy cobbled patterns leading up to the blue and white castle