Change of Plans: Stockholm to Oslo

The original plan was to head south from Stockholm to Amsterdam. Tom and Jim reasoned that even with a two-month Eurail pass, they wouldn’t have time to see everything before the pass expired and they’d need to head back to the States. So they made the call: Denmark and Stockholm would be the totality of their Scandinavian experience. Norway was taken off the list.

The backpackers aboard the Af Chapman—the 19^th Century, full-rigged steel Swedish ship-turned-youth-hostel—were aghast. Some even appeared offended. What? You’re not going to Norway? The fjords? The most spectacular scenery in Europe… in the world? Are you crazy?

Most were just trying to be helpful, offering some valuable don’t-miss advice. Others seemed to relish the opportunity to show off—in slightly condescending tones—their travel chops. But enough of them had made it clear to Tom and Jim that skipping Norway might be a serious mistake.

Norway went back on the list.

They hopped on a day train for Oslo, hoping for clearer skies to frame the beauty the more experienced backpackers had so confidently promised. The rain clouds kept pace with the train, and it wasn’t until they reached Oslo that the elusive Scandinavian sun finally broke through.

Stepping off at Oslo Central Station, Jim was struck, once again, by the elegance of the European train stations they’d experienced so far. Like London, Copenhagen, and Stockholm, Oslo’s station featured tall windows, spotless floors, and lots of shops, restaurants, and cafes where you could sit as long as you like, sipping a cappuccino while doing serious people-watching. Often located in the heart of the city, these stations served as both transportation hubs and public spaces for both travelers and locals. With the massive, constantly flipping and clattering (pre-digital) departure boards, people bustling about, and announcements in half a dozen languages, it felt less like a train station and more like the setting of an espionage film.

That’s Bond. James Bond.

Venturing out of the station, they found cheap (for Norway) accommodations nearby at the Cochs Pensione, a quaint old hotel in central Oslo.

From Tom’s journal: Despite the long train ride across Sweden, we arrived in Oslo with thoughts of not doing a number (tourist jargon meaning to really visit and analyze a city). So we spent a night and half a day walking up and down Karl Johans Gate, from the train station to the Royal Palace or the Slottet, casing the Norwegian capital city. 

They meandered through narrow side streets, past shops selling heavy, hand-knit sweaters and overpriced smoked salmon. They walked past the National Theatre under what Jim thought was the disapproving glare from the towering statue of Henrik Ibsen. They also felt compelled to visit the Viking Ship Museum, imagining how those experienced backpackers from the Af Chapman might react (“You went to Oslo and DIDN’T go to the Viking Ship Museum?”). The visit was worth it, though. How often do you get to see thousand-year-old longships?

 From Jim’s journal: While I want to see more of the countryside, I wouldn’t mind spending more time in Oslo. Seems very livable, if expensive. We met and had a beer with a woman named Lo, ten years older, been traveling for a year! Stories of abuse back in the States, places she’s been since she left him, and way too much info on the men she’d met here and there. How much true, how much exaggeration? I asked if she enjoyed traveling for so long. Response: “I’m not really traveling, anymore. I’m just wandering.”  

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That was Then. Now for NOW: Reflections on "A Change of Plans"

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Stockholm: Dreary Weather, Bright Advice

After their first of many overnight train rides to follow, Tom and Jim arrived in Stockholm at 9 a.m., tired and hungry after trying—and mostly failing—to sleep sitting up. This may explain why their first impressions of the Swedish capital were less glowing than when they first glimpsed London and Copenhagen. The cold, dreary weather that greeted them when they disembarked didn’t help.

Finding an inexpensive place to eat in famously expensive Sweden was difficult—even Let’s Go! seemed at a loss. But they hit the jackpot with their accommodations. Docked just across the water (Stockholm is situated on 14 islands connected by more than 50 bridges) from the Gamla stan, Stockholm’s medieval “Old Town,” is the Af Chapman—a full-rigged steel ship built in the 1800s that sailed all over the world, later served as a training vessel for Swedish naval officers, and later still became a youth hostel.

The ship has undergone several major renovations, most recently in 2022. Today, the “hostel” looks more like a standard Hilton or Marriott hotel room. But in 1977 the accommodations were basic: double bunk beds, a small writing table, and three (not four, for some reason) chairs. After tossing their backpack on their assigned bunks, Tom and Jim joined a rather large group of people—young backpackers, as far as they could tell—gathered under the gray skies. A bedraggled man was playing the guitar and doing an excellent Gordon Lightfoot’s, “If You Could Read My Mind.”

“Where in Canada are you from?” Jim asked, sure the singer would be impressed with his ability to discern accents.

“No Canada,” he said, smiling and revealing a prodigious set of choppers. “No English.”

Though he couldn’t speak it, he sure could sing it. Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads” came next, followed by Donovan’s “Catch the Wind.” All were excellent. Different languages mingled in the air, but English predominated and Tom and Jim enjoyed listening to the more experienced travelers share their tales of the road.

“If you go to Amsterdam, do the Heineken tour. It’s cheap, and you can get a buzz on by noon.”

“Skip the light show on the Acropolis. It’s a rip-off.”

“Cairo is full of ****ing pickpockets.”

What struck them was that there was very little discussion of the experience of visiting these places versus how to stretch a buck. But they were budget travelers and some of the tips came in handy. One, in particular, caught their ears.

“Make sure you stop into the Pudding Shop in Istanbul. Everyone goes there and you can get some good tips on the overland to India.”

That may have been the first time they’d heard the word “overland.” Some of the people had traveled across Europe and through the Middle East to Asia. No planes. The idea was almost too exotic for Tom and Jim. And then Jim struck up a conversation with a young Austrian couple. They had worked for three years—he as a microbiologist, she as a teacher—before quitting their jobs to see the world. They had been traveling for nearly a year. Jim felt like a complete rookie and made a mental note to toss his backpack in the dirt somewhere so he looked more like a seasoned world traveler. He looked over to Tom, who was listening, wide-eyed. Jim had a feeling that Tom’s next out-of-budget purchase would be a copy of Let’s Go—Asia!

The weather report for the next few days forecasted rainy skies and chilly temps, so Tom and Jim decided to see as much of Stockholm as they could during the rest of the day and the following morning. The plan was to head north to Bergen, Norway, then back down the Scandinavian coast to Amsterdam.

They set out together for the Old City, Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s original city center. Tom loved wandering the maze of narrow lanes (seemingly narrow enough to stretch your arms and touch the buildings on opposite sides), lined with 300-year-old buildings. He was again struck by the limits on automobiles in the city in favor of pedestrians, and awed by the way people of all ages wandered the Gamla Stan and central Stockholm's numerous parks without fear. Remember: This was the 70s, when most American city centers shut down after the workday, and walking through parks in the dark could be hazardous to your health.

Tom wanted to take in more of the Gamla Stan and its nearby sites, such as the imposing Royal Palace. Jim wanted to simply wander, so they agreed to meet later back at the Af Chapman. Once Jim was out of the Old City, he found himself roaming the streets and bridges of a beautiful, modern city. Somewhere along the line, he found himself at some sort of flower-arranging competition. He didn’t understand a word of what was going on, but got a kick out of watching the contestants working furiously at something out of sight, then revealing their work with a victorious flourish to the accompaniment of lusty cheers and applause. Jim was mesmerized.

Back at the Af Chapman, he found Tom deep in conversation with another backpacker who, in the slightly condescending way that some of the more experienced backpackers talk to rookies, told Tom that it was crazy to go straight to Bergen.

“Take the train to Oslo first,” he said, which sounded more like an order than a suggestion. “From there to Bergen is one of the most beautiful train trips you’ll ever take.”

And so Tom and Jim amended their plans. They would do so again in Oslo, onto a path that a certain famous poet would say made all the difference.

***

That was Then. Now for the NOW: Reflections 50 Years Later on
"Stockholm: Dreary Weather, Bright Advice"

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Copenhagen: City of Spires

Tom and Jim had an inexpensive dinner after their time at the Lion’s Club and finalized their strategy for traveling together without driving each other crazy. They would skip the expensive guided tours, which were major budget busters. Instead, each would consult his own travel guide to pick the sites they wanted to see. If their choices meshed, great. If not, they would separate for the day and meet together at dinner—or later—to share their experiences.

With that settled, they decided to check out Copenhagen at night. They came to a discotheque with a line of people about their age waiting to get in. Half an hour and twelve kroner later, they found themselves in a whirlwind of strobe lights and thumping music. They pushed their way to the bar, a highly polished affair that stretched the entire width of the venue. Tom struck up a conversation with two guys from Great Britain, but how they conversed with Donna Summer and “Love to Love You Baby” blasting out over the speakers was beyond Jim.

After a few excellent beers, they decided to call it a night. But on their way out, a young woman sharing a table with another woman called out, “Do you speak American?” Soon, she and her friend were sharing drinks and peppering Tom and Jim with questions: “How do you like Copenhagen?” and “Where in the U.S. do you live?” “How long will you visit in Copenhagen?”

The women were friendly and attractive, and Tom and Jim were starting to wonder just what might be in store for the rest of the evening—until one of them asked, “How old are you?”

Tom answered and returned the question. 

“Fifteen,” she replied.

Tom and Jim glanced at each other. The unspoken thought: “Between this and the Lion’s Club, we definitely need to up our bar game.” After a few polite farewells,  they headed back to Hotel Absolom.

The next morning, Tom decided to return to the Strøget, a part of the city that had caught his eye on the bus tour the previous day. When he entered the area, a pedestrianized zone consisting of five winding streets in the heart of the city center, he felt that he had finally stepped into the essence of a true European city—where people mattered more than cars.

As he meandered through the area, he was struck by the apparent high quality of city life for people of all ages, a stark contrast to many cities in the United States. Bike paths were an integral part of the urban landscape, allowing people of all ages to pedal safely through the streets. The streets and sidewalks were impeccably clean, and the cars—smaller than the American-style gas guzzlers—were well-maintained. Lovely parks, gardens, canals, and lakes encircled the downtown area. His wanderings also led him to Christiania, a former industrial area now transformed into a community of adults seeking personal freedom to pursue life's pleasures and interests. Artists, free spirits, and hippies enjoyed life on their own terms. The culture seemed years ahead of the USA in accepting alternative expressions of life. And the city felt safe: People of all ages walked around the town at all hours. Tom felt that Copenhagen's urban life was balanced, people-oriented, and allowed its citizens to truly enjoy life. This first impression became the benchmark against which Tom would compare the many other European and Asian cities they would eventually visit.

Tom was also struck by the openness of Danish society. Pornography shops were as common as coffee shops on Strøget, and sex and its promotion seemed normalized. Marijuana was sold openly in stores and little cafes, offering a wide variety of options. This was unheard of in the States back in 1977.

As for Jim, he had left the Hotel Absolom with no particular destination in mind. He wandered the streets, stopping now and then to sit and people-watch and scribble in his journal. He also visited the Strøget, but more by happy accident than a planned destination. Like Tom, he found himself a bit wide-eyed at all the adult bookstores, explicit posters, and theaters advertising live sex shows. This was a far cry from the theater in downtown Cleveland, the “Roxy,” which—as Jim had heard but could not verify from personal experience, of course--featured rather tame burlesque-type strip shows.

Jim spent most of the day in Frederiksberg Garden, Copenhagen’s largest park, where he met more Americans than Danes. A guitar-wielding young woman with a dazzling smile introduced herself as a “Child of God” and asked if Jim could spare some money to help her bring others “closer to the source.”

“What’s the source?” Jim asked.

“You’ll know it when you get there.”

Jim begged traveler’s poverty. Later, a couple with the U.S. flag sewn to their backpacks apparently mistook him for a native and asked for directions to the palace. Jim told them that he had only arrived in the city the night before. He expected a friendly greeting and perhaps some tales of the road, but the couple merely thanked him and continued on their way.

The only Dane Jim spoke with that day was one outside the train station--Kobenhavns Hovedbanegard—where he waiting for Tom so they could catch the overnight train to Stockholm. She was short, blond, and wore an extremely mini miniskirt.

“American?” she asked.

Jim smiled and nodded. It would be nice to chat while waiting, he thought. Maybe learn a little bit more about life in Copenhagen from an actual citizen. And wouldn’t Tom be impressed to find him chatting with a pretty young local.

“Want sex?” she asked.

Jim decided to wait for Tom inside the station.

***

That was Then. Now for the NOW:
Reflections 50 Years Later on
"Copenhagen:City of Spires

We'd love to hear from you. Share your comments, questions, or any reactions to this post in the comments section below. And thanks for reading/watching!