When we awoke on Sunday morning, the sun was shining (though we couldn't tell from inside our cave room) and the chill seemed to have subsided. Perhaps the promise of a warmer day was real, and just perhaps, maybe we were turning the page from a wintery March to a spring-like April. It was so promising, but as the day unfolded, Mother Nature revealed that it was just a mean April Fools Day joke. By the evening, we would be fighting through snow flurries and more harsh wind. But I must shamelessly again give props to our Easy Go wardrobe. We somehow have enough clothing in these magic backpacks to stay warm as we explore... and with Estonia and Russia on the horizon, we think we'll be bundled up for several more days, until the *ahem* "southern" stretch of the trip into the Czech Republic, France, and England.
Sundays in Europe are traditionally slow-paced, and Stockholm is no different. Through my travels, I have found Sunday is a good day to ponder the bigger questions in life. Sure, we found time for a short walking tour of the Norrmalm section of the city - where we learned interesting facts, like: 1 in 10 Europeans under the age of 30 was conceived on a piece of IKEA furniture.
We took a jaunt around Skansen - a park featuring a miniature recreation of rural Sweden, complete with a zoo of Scandinavian animals, including a couple bears getting freaky (give the bears a break - they have lots of pent-up energy after months of hibernation).
Another stroll through Gamla Stan, where we picked up our first souvenirs of the trip - a sweet cast iron shot glass and a Viking drinking horn (made with real animal horn, so you know it's good - I need a special chair to sit in whenever I am home, drinking from the horn). Throw in a stop at Jerusalem Kebab for some of the tastiest shawarma I have ever had. But through the cold, some bigger questions were percolating....
Like, why don't Europeans wear sunglasses? When I am on the road, I try to make concerted effort to be as 'local' as possible. But sunglasses are a sure fire sign of a tourist... and I just can't seem to shake mine.
Or, where the heck does everyone go on Sunday? Streets all over the city are empty, shops are boarded up, and what was a thriving metropolis on Saturday becomes a sleepy ghost town on Sunday.
Or, why is American culture so prevalent everywhere you turn? Advertisements all over town don the faces of Gwenyth Paltrow and Justin Bieber. Music in shops seems to be a never-ending loop of Nicki Minaj and Cee-Lo. Flip the television on, and there is Jamie Foxx and Gerard Butler in Law Abiding Citizen, complete with Swedish sub-titles. American cultural influence is everywhere.
And then I wonder, why is the U.S. so shut off from the rest of the world? Flip on the news in the U.S., and save the occassional international political story, all the news we are fed is domestic. Did you hear about the guy in Arkansas who
held up a gas station with a hot dog tongs? Sadly, I did... and it is NOT news... it is entertainment. But in Europe, the news topics bounce around the globe from Europe to Asia to the States, hitting on important economic, political, and social issues. And I wonder why Europeans seem so educated when it comes to world issues (but at least I know about the hot dog tongs guy).
And when you meet a guy like Hozmir on a residential street corner in Stockholm, you realize how important it is to be aware of the rest of the world we live in. A guy like Hozmir can open your eyes to just how similar humans are, regardless of ethnicity, age, or religion. Hozmir is 80 years old, a former surgeon who immigrated to Sweden from Iran. In other words, he and I are opposite ends of the spectrum on ethnicity, age, and religion. We met Hozmir on his way home from "gymnastics" (a sight I would like to see). We had made our way across town to a restaurant/bar for our final meal in Stockholm, but (of course) it was closed.... Sunday... sigh. As we stood on the street corner, Hozmir approached and asked if he could point us in the right direction. The next thing we know, we've had a 30 minute conversation on the street corner, ranging from his favorite U.S. golf courses to his thoughts on the complexities of the tensions in Syria, Palestine, and Iran. The guy was thoroughly impressive and very sharp. He speaks 6 languages and can muster up enough to get by in a few others. He even knows English slang and accents, as he referred to his trips to 'Vegas', 'San Fran', 'New York' (in his own Brooklyn accent), and even a trip to see his brother-in-law in Encino (where my family lives - it really is a small world). He likes champagne and wine, but he said his favorite drink is a margarita with salt all over the rim. Hozmir told us that he loves living in Stockholm, but he leaves during the 'dark months' for either his villa in Cannes or his home in Iran. Would you spend your winters in Cannes or Iran??? Well, Hozmir seemed completely happy in either place.
The conversation was probably insignificant to Hozmir, but for us, it was a highlight of this trip. It was a fascinating opportunity to talk to someone with so much life experience and knowledge, someone who is generationally and culturally divergent from our own upbringing.
After Hozmir finally got around to pointing out a few restaurant recommendations to us, he invited us up to his flat for a glass of wine or champagne. I really wanted to take him up on the offer, but something about dragging Carlee into the flat of an Iranian that we met just moments ago on a street corner.... well, I just didn't want to have that conversation with Rob Kulovitz (my father-in-law). So, a few more minutes of conversation on the blustery roadside and we parted ways, leaving Hozmir to shuffle up the street alone.
And as we ventured on to find the restaurants recommended by Hozmir, they were.... closed, naturally. So we wandered, and built up a big appetite, and wandered some more.
Everything was closed. We reminisced about the au gratin potatoes from Saturday, but (of course) the market is also closed on Sunday. Nevertheless, we eventually stumbled upon the market, locked up and totally dark. Right next to the market's entrance, a small green door led to a staircase. "Buffe" read a sandwich board sign at the foot of the steps. At this point, the "buffe" had two plusses: 1) it was open and 2) they served food... so we had to at least take a look. Maybe this was our chance to have a Swedish smorgasbord. "Table for two?", asked the small Asian man behind the counter. We told him we first wanted to take a gander around the restaurant.... it was largely empty, but everything is empty on a Sunday. It was not impressive looking or smelling, as the cuisine varied from Chinese to fish filet, to mayo-laden salad, to sushi. Our better judgment said to walk away... but as we approached the back of the restaurant, a small door led to a dark patio. Out of curiosity, I stuck my head out to find about 10 tables perched on a balcony high above the floor of the food market. As we looked around the dark, closed market, this was the only place that had a balcony and interior access to the market... maybe there was something that we were missing about this hodge-podge buffet. After all, this is one of the world's best food markets... and we were
very hungry, with visions of au gratin potatoes from the stall below us dancing in our heads. So we signaled to the Asian man that we would take a seat on the balcony.
No adjectives will do justice to how bad it actually was. Let's just say, the after-dinner mint was our favorite part. I can cross "eat a smorgasbord in Sweden" off my bucket list, but never ever let me set foot in that place again.
If you are ever in this position in Stockholm, please refer back to this chart:
Somehow, during our 40 minute dinner, the skies opened, dumped a bunch of snow, and cleared up before we were back on the street. A sign of more bad weather to come? We will find out tomorrow in Tallinn.
Walked - 13.05 miles
Total walked - 48.93
I think Tallinn is a great place... I think the people are friendly.... and I think the untouched medieval architecture is stunning. Unfortunately, I can only tell you what I THINK Tallinn is like, since it was buried under mounds of snow. During our 24 hours in Estonia, I don't think it stopped snowing for a split second - no sun, no blue sky, no green grass... the city was lost in an abysmal gray hue. The streets were empty, the bars and restaurants were deserted, and the occassional local seen in public was more concerned with taking cover than conversing with a couple of American tourists. This was not the idea I had in my head when I chose this destination. 
But in the springtime, I imagine this place is magnificent - a blip on the map standing still in time. Centuries old and nearly untouched by destructive war, Tallinn is a history buff/traveler's dream stop: Estonia is now on the Euro, but prices are still cheap, the beer is delicious, the food is rustic and hearty. We got a small glimpse of this during a late lunch. We ate at Kloostri Ait - an old grainery, with high, stone walls and a stone fireplace (the picture to the right is a hallway off the main dining area). We drank beer by the fire and then shared some salted herring, salmon & spinach cakes, and meat dumplings. The amibiance was incredible, the food was fantastic, and the cost was small (especially compared to the Scandinavia standards we were used to). Our afternoon confirmed that Tallinn has potential to be a fantastic destination, and it probably will be in just a few short weeks when the snow clears and the days each get about 20 hours of sunlight. We just arrived a little too early in the year. 
