On rivers and seas

In mid-April, a month before my move, I visited Stockholm for a training session with my future colleagues. I decided to fly over a day early to check out my future hoods in Eskilstuna, hoping to have a look at a potential apartment while I was there. That did not work out according to my plans but, on the bright side, Eskilstuna was prettier than I recalled. At first sight, on a drizzly November day, the town had seemed grey and without character. I was delighted to discover that - once again - first impressions did not last. On our second date, Eskilstuna treated me to light snowfall and bursts of sunshine.

 
Admittedly, the pretty part of town is rather limited: a few charming streets make up the Gamla Stan ("old town"). But at least there is a Gamla Stan with atmospheric cafés - it makes such a difference for me. I need my regular dose of hurry-free idleness in cosy cafés to manage my stress levels.

On our second date, I treated myself to wild strawberry tea and lemon meringue pie (my all-time favourite) in a charming riverside café. A welcome improvement from the hasty cup of coffee at Wayne's Coffee on our first date.

I was positively surprised to find an eco-friendly café and shop next to my future office. Apparently green values are going strong in Eskilstuna, with many locally produced goods available. Nice to know.

The Ekorummet sign in the photo guides visitors to an eco-friendly B&B in Gamla Stan. [Although I didn't know at the time, this B&B ended up being my first "home" in Eskilstuna - I stayed there for the first six nights. It was just lovely.]

 










A river does help a lot in transforming any ordinary town into something more pleasant. Eskilstuna is split into two by a small river known unimaginatively as the Eskilstunaån (yep, guessed it: Eskilstuna river). I plan to join a canoe club and go kayaking in the summer. While nothing beats the sense of adventure of kayaking at sea, at least it is safe to paddle on my own in this small river.















In short, I'm making a conscious effort to find - and focus on - the upsides of becoming a small-town girl. I try to keep in mind that the ingredients of good life are small things that are available also beyond the borders of the world's capital cities: friends and family, inspiring hobbies, satisfying work and sweet idleness. So to be happy, I need to feel comfortable at work, in my local [and virtual!] community and in my own skin, too.

For sure, my well-being is enhanced by access to cultural events. Furthermore, the likelihood of making new friends is higher in large cities with lively social scenes. Stockholm offers both. I also get huge kicks from the sheer beauty of the city, and from being surrounded by the sea.

Aah, the sea... The very thought of it evokes bipolar awe in me: a curious combo of peaceful melancholy and an acute thirst for adventure. I often wonder why the sea has such power over me. Has growing up in a land-locked country made oceans seem particularly mythical, or is this awe somehow universally coded into our DNA and felt by humans across space and time? Having (happily) grown up far away from the sea, why am I convinced that I need to live by the sea to be happy? I blame - or thank - the Moomin books for creating this powerful nostalgia associated with the sea.

This is why I hope to live in Stockholm one day. Until then, I shall make frequent day trips to the seaside.









P.S. I haven't quite yet mastered the layout options of this blog. I might have to migrate if the text and pictures continue to jump all over the place. It shouldn't be this hard.