A Walk on the Ice

I was this happy even after finding out that
my camera was useless.

My sleeping pattern is all messed up, but the bright side is that I am much more awake than I normally am during daylight hours. This gave me a smashing Easter day on the ice with the husband - also probably one of the last days the ice was safe to tread; spring is coming fast and early this year. I brought the nice camera, but failed to remember the memory card, which was still stuck in my computer. "That´s a new one", said the husband, but I couldn´t be very miffed - it was too much of a glorious day for being grumpy for more than a split second. The husband had his iPhone, which takes very nice photos, and I had my watercolour sketchbook, which I got out when we found a warm wall against which to take our small picknick of tea and cookies.

The ice road going from the northern harbour. 

Can´t have skaters tripping on dog poo. 

Our lovely resting spot, a boathouse near the Bergnäset bridge.

A slightly wobbly panorama from our spot.

The bridge.

The steel works far away. As you can see, there is no Easter holiday rest for those who work there, the steam comes from the coke manufacturing.

Luleå from the southern harbour. 

This old crane is a museum piece and a very distinct part of the skyline.
 Had to draw.

In several places there were kick-sleds (Sw. spark) offered on loan. They call these spots "sparkings" (as in spark + parking). 

Had to take a turn, it´s been ages. You can get quite speedy on these! 

Studio 54

The Guardian has this gallery of photos by Swedish photographer Hasse Persson, from the infamous nightclub Studio 54 in New York. The nightclub was sold in 1980 or 1981 and lost some of its glamour, but continued to operate to 1988 or 1991 (the facts depend on what source you go to).

I actually went there in 1983. Kind of. I was one of a plane load of Swedish foreign exchange students, about to be transported to small towns all across the US, having a few days of assembly and preparation in New York. One of the girls was determined to go to Studio 54 and I, and two others, joined her late one night in a taxi that let us off on the other side of the street. It was, in my memory, a rather grey, dull street, and there was a quiet queue in front of a rather unassuming entrance. We stood there, meekly, our shoulder bags cluched in front of us, for ten minutes or so - I guess the three of us hangers-on were waiting for the girl in charge to take an initiative; remember, we were only 16 at the time.

In the end, we walked back to the hotell without even crossing the street. Just as well, I think. I don´t suppose Bianca Jagger, Brooke Shields, and Andy Warhol still went there anyway. Or that they would have let us in. On the way, we saw the steam rise from under the street (massive ambience!), bought an unexpectedly salty pretzel (still don´t like them), and just gawked.

And that´s all there was to that.

Kurbits

As I was reading Carl Larsson´s books (well, more looking at the pictures than reading) I came across this interior with Dala paintings, the kind called kurbits. Dalarna is a Swedish region known for its particular kind of peasantry decoration style, or allmoge, of which kurbits painting is a part. It is used for furniture, wooden boxes, tapestries, grandfather clocks, and so on. It has its roots in the baroque styles of decoration and the word originally means cucumber or pumpkin plant.

I lived for most of my childhood in Dalarna and my mother-in-law lived there for almost twenty years (raising her first batch of children). Some traces of this has survived in our home. We have a kitchen cupboard inherited from the mum-in-law, originally painted in a colour called dalablå. It more like verdigris now, and when I decided to vamp up the dining table by painting it the same colour, the one most like it that I could buy was called Mint Green.

When I was a child, there was a printed hanging in the hallway leading into the kitchen with a kurbits painting of The Queen of Sheba. Or, as it was called, "The Queen of Rich Arabia visits King Solomon with gifts". These biblical motifs were very popular, and the bible story characters were depicted as if they were inhabitants of 18th or 19th century Dalarna. Very charming. I now have that hanging in my kitchen, one of a few reminders of childhood that I cherish.

Peasholm Park

One of our days in Scarborough we spent in Peasholm Park. I was still feeling pretty awful from my allergy, and while a park probably wasn´t the best place for me, going shopping again felt too depressing.

The park is lovely, was opened in 1912 as a Japanese themed park, and is recently restored with the support of the Peasholm Park Friends, a group of volunteers who even set up a website for the park. Now that I have looked at the website I´m sorry we didn´t go see the Naval Warfare thing, which they describe like this:  "For more than 80 years the “Battle of Peasholm” has been played out for 30 minutes three times every week during the summer season, delighting audiences..." They have a gallery of photos, old and new, here. Soo British! We did, however, enjoy the music of an organist sitting in a floating... pagoda, perhaps. He played jolly evergreens like "The sun has put his hat on" from the musical "Me and My Girl", and an ABBA-medley, which he commented with "hördi-gördi*, and all that kind of thing". I guess that´s what the English thinks Swedish sounds like: hördi-gördi. The Brits are crazy about ABBA, you hear it played all the time.

Well, we walked into the park, following the Tree Trail, and all of a sudden we found ourselves in a cemetery. The English kind, that looks completely abandoned. If a stone falls over in a Swedish cemetery, it is considered a desecration and a disrespect to the dead, not to mention a hazard for children (after a child climbing a stone was crushed under it a few years ago - a tragic accident). The English seem to think otherwise. Their cemeteries have a gothic kind of beauty, though, that I like; it really is a place for the dead. Swedish cemeteries are positively cheerful and lively in comparison.

I did do a lot of drawing, there are many photos of me sitting on a bench, red-nosed with a packet of Kleenex in my breastpocket and a drawing pad in my knee. Looking at the drawings now, at least I can say that my skills have improved since then!

No wonder Dracula was attracted to England... 

* I attempted an English spelling of "hördi-gördi" but couldn´t decide on one that I was sure would have an unambiguous pronounciation. The sound that goes with the letter "ö" can be spelled in English with an i, as in bird or first; with an e, as in her or serve; with a u, as in burn or turn; with an o, as in word; or with the combination ea, as in learn or pearl. I would not be surprised if there are more variants. What to choose? One of my old English-teachers comes to mind, who sighed and said that there are no clear rules to English spelling. You just have to learn every word by using it. Perhaps I should have gone with an e - it works after h in her, and after g in Gertrude. "Herdi-gerdi"?

What if the English would adopt the letter ö? I´m sure millions of först-graders would be grateful, easily lörning to spell wörds like börd, först, hör, sörve, börn, törn, lörn and pörl. Of course, pearl and purl would be spelled the same way, but there already are lots of words with several meanings. Wouldn´t that be just pörfect? Hm, maybe not.

Angel Song

I am really too busy and stressed out (yes, tried to deny it, but I really am, haven´t even put up Christmas decorations yet) to post, but I decided to sit down and find my favourite Christmas song ever, all categories (it´s actually a psalm). This is a lovely version from Swedish Television a few years back with Sofia Karlsson looking like an angel, singing "Frid på jorden" (= peace on earth) and then "Gläns över sjö och strand" (= glitter over lake and shore). Enjoy!

(on youtube by Kaare K Johnsen)

Canals

Much of English history is also the history of the Industrial Revolution. This is where it started and along with it came the need for easy transport of large loads over long distances. In those early days, the 18th Century, roads as we think of them today didn´t exist. Not to mention lorries, trucks, etc. The natural solution was boats, and a canalsystem covering pretty much all of the country. By the 1830´s, the system had expanded to around 6.400 km (4.000 miles)! The boats were drawn by horses as late as the 1950´s, but diesel-engines were also in use towards the end. By the 60´s, all transport had moved to the road and the canals were abandoned by the industry, instead adopted by holidaymakers and history entusiasts. These days, you can hire a canalboat and spend your holidays cruising through England in a very leisurely manner.

We have done some lovely canal walks on our trips, and once were even invited onboard to have a look at one of the boats. Cozy, but oh so cramped! Imagine in the old days, when the skipper lived on board with his family, and most of the boat had to be filled up with coal or whatever he was carrying! We saw a film not many years ago, "Young Adam" with Ewan McGregor, in which the story takes place onboard one of these boats. Claustrophobic, as I recall.

In Birmingham this summer, we visited the Gas Street Basin, and walked for a few kilometers along the Canal Walk, which was restored in 1996. We were even lucky enough to see a boat coming through the locks.

You can find more information here, and Wikipedia has a few articles as well.

"Road" crossing.

This is the usual division of labour (indicated by our observations): the man steers the boat and the wife operates the lock.

Onlookers give a helping hand.

I love how the guy gets his photograph taken while closing the gate!

I wouldn´t mind having a balcony over a canal. So peaceful in the middle of the city.

Boat people are a friendly bunch - this guy insisted on being photographed.

Underneath the railway tracks.

Local Theatre

We have a really cool theatre in our town; it is housed in a row of old harbour storehouses. It´s a great way to preserve old buildings and the character of a place. The theatre was founded in 1967, as the first regional theatre in Sweden - a collaboration between Luleå municipality and the county Norrbotten, and the building was finished in 1986. Since 1996 the university runs a drama school here, accepting eight students every other year.



The first play I ever saw here, in 1992 probably, was "Dagning Röd" (= daybreak red) by Bengt Pohjanen. Its subject was a religious sect in Tornedalen (north of us) in the 30´s and this is still such a tender spot for many that someone threatened to bomb the theatre! We had to leave our seats and walk in the winter cold along the quay while the dogs searched the premises!

We don´t go nearly often enough, but in 23 years I have seen some great plays, most memorable was perhaps "Macbeth" and "The Seagull". I can´t help it, I love the classics, even more if I have seen them many times before. Going to the theatre for me is like having a storybook read to me, and like a little child I want to hear my favourites over and over and over...

Midsummer Celebrations

The entrance to Gültzauudden. 

This year, we decided to be all traditional on Midsummer Eve, and go to Gültzauudden (= the Gültzau promontory, or spit) and celebrate properly. We don´t do it every year, I have to say, and much of it is about me being in bed until three or four in the afternoon most days. But now I´m on vacation (hurrah!) and as I need to readjust to dayliving, it seemed like a good idea to go. Mum-in-law is in a good shape and joined us. 

The wooded promontory has been a place for hanging out and having a good time since Luleå was established in this location in the 17th century. You can see ruins of a burned down dance palace, and there used to be a skijumping stadium here a hundred years ago. Now there is a beach, and a café situated in a building that is a copy of the old town hall, which stood not far from here. Between 1693 and 1861 a house just like this one was the seat of the mayor, the court, over-night accomodation for the county governor, the fire brigade, the jail, tax storage (some taxes were delivered in kind), and a tavern. It would barely house one family these days, we are so spoilt for space. Of course, in those days they didn´t have plumbing, no bathrooms or toilets, barebone-kitchens, and so on. What they did have was firewood storage, and I bet it cost a pretty penny to heat the place. 

There were lots of people, in spite of the weather. A cold wind was coming in from the north, bone-chilling, but no rain. This did not seem to put a damper on anyone´s mood, everyone was incredibly jolly, actually. The local folklore society ran the show, and had already done a version of it earlier that day at the folklore museum Hägnan, in Gammelstad. They were amazing, I thought. They must really enjoy what they do. 

We have been a few times before (more than ten years ago) and I can not remember it being so well organized , or so well-attended. I think perhaps our immigrants have something to do with that, they have re-vitalized the interest in folklore, which have been waning since the 70´s, when everyone was into sewing their own folk costume and polka dancing. Even I, as a ten-year-old, went to a schottische course. 

There was a fishpond/grab bag stand for the kids, music from the stage, a speech by the Council president, the children were "maying" the pole, which was then paraded and erected. The folklore specialists led the dance from a small circle around the pole, and so many joined in. After that, there was a dance show, and again, the audience was invited to join in, which they did, enthusiastically. 

We then took a short walk to the car and went home to enjoy our dinner of pickled herring. I lost control of my snapping finger and took 392 photos! Too much, really, but it was such fun. 

During the Council President´s speech.

The Little Frog Dance

So many little girls were dressed as princesses. Don´t remember that from when I was a kid. 

Doesn´t it look like he is jiujitsuing her? I love his style, he looks like Santa´s overseer. 

Some really lovely wooded promenades.