Sweden at Christmastime

I was chatting with a friend about travel the other day and I happened to mention my 2018 trip to Sweden.

Yes, I went to Sweden in the winter and it was GLORIOUS!

Of course, I was so afraid of being cold, seeing as how I was born and raised in sunny, warm California.

So I brought long johns, boots, scarf, hat, snow gear and a really long heavy puffer jacket.

The end result?

I sweated my way through my vacation.

I’d go outside all bundled up only to enter a building with the heat on BLAST.

I’d strip off layers to cool off, only to have to put them back on again when I went outside.

I was perpetually HOT, not cold, as I’d projected.

I joked that I must be going into menopause with all the hot flashes I had.

Of course, my memories of Sweden are more than just the cold and the heat.

I remember sweet shops and bins filled with candy at the supermarket.

There was salted licorice gum (it tastes exactly as it sounds) and candy that resembled rocks.

I remember a glorious smörgåsbord dinner with friends at The Grand Hôtel – complete with champagne and caviar.

And no one, I mean NO ONE, does Christmas like the Scandinavians.

There was glögg, a kind of spiced mulled beverage which is served hot with ginger crisps.

There were lighted ada candlabras in all the windows and colorful dala horses on display:

And a light snowfall made everything seem magical.

I’d like to transport myself there now and get away from all the strife going on here at home.

Sweden at Christmas is much favorable to California during the next few weeks.

Life is Swede

Yes, I’m still on my Swedish kick.

I broke down and clicked on a few links and. . .

  1. I now have a bottle of glögg arriving at my home in a week or two
  2. I signed up for a Beginning Swedish language class starting in January
  3. I figured out where to buy small batch Icelandic vodka
  4. I’m going to stop by Lunardi’s in Los Gatos to pick up akvavit (aqua vit)
  5. I signed up for a few Swedish activities mailing lists and liked a few Swedish FB pages

I’m convinced, if The Swede doesn’t snap me up like the trophy prize I am, that Alexander Skarsgård is destined to fall in love with me and propose marriage.

Ahem.

Yes, I have True Blood fantasies.

AND I can pronounce Skarsgård properly.

If that doesn’t make me perfect for some Swede, then I don’t know what is.

I also decided to buy the cutest little America loves Sweden t-shirt.

TECHNICALLY, I think it’s about Swedish Americans and we’ve established that I’m definitively Norwegian.

But watch me care less about that.

This American likes her Swedes.

Life is Swede.