‘Flygskam’ has become quite the buzzword in Sweden over the past few years, and one of the splendid Swedish words you will read throughout this article. As you may be able to deride from our common Germanic origins, it has to do with flying, more specifically ‘flight shame’, a term which has really caught hold in this socially-minded, nature-oriented country. This has led to a resurgence and reinvestment in the country’s largely publicly-owned rail system, and a shunning of short-haul flights, once the natural choice of transport between the three main cities – Malmö, Gothenburg, and the capital Stockholm.
I am, therefore, here to ride the rails – the ‘Swedish Triangle’, as only I call it – between the aforementioned cities. It is also worth mentioning that you can travel to my starting point – Malmö – by rail if you have the time too, just change at Hamburg. For my trip, however, I am arriving at the reassuringly well-designed Copenhagen Airport and hopping aboard a Malmö train, which runs every 15 minutes into the city centre.
Copenhagen to Malmö – 25 minutes
In no time at all, I am speeding over the Øresund Bridge, the silent supporting actor of the brilliant Scandi-Noir drama The Bridge – a collaboration between the Swedish and Danes, just like the engineering marvel itself. Completed in 1999, the bridge has completely transformed Malmö, bringing in far more Swedish day trippers, attracting commuters for the (reassuringly) expensive Copenhagen, and negating the need for the once omnipresent passenger ferries. This, along with the industrial decline of this working-class port city, has led Malmö to reinvent itself. I see this immediately in the harbour, which is currently at the same stage as the London Docklands in the 1990s, or Salford Quays in the 2000s – attractive, utopian, shiny, and still requiring some time to bed in.
A short walk away from the rather beautiful Victorian-meets-modern architecture of the central station, my hotel – The Story – overlooks the peninsula, the bridge, and the harbour, and, at 14 floors, is one of the tallest buildings in the city. Industrial with a sense of fun, it has a high-end (in both senses) Japanese restaurant on the 14th floor with panoramic views… it will no doubt be quite the hub as the harbour community builds.
Further into the old city, Swedish socialism meets the traditional Scandi architecture, old red houses rubbing up against ’70s blocks in a surprisingly appealing way. The city has a thriving cultural scene, not only with public art, but with the Moderna Museet modern art gallery, and an entirely different culture in the shape of the Disgusting Food Museum, which displays maggot-infested cheese alongside Pop Tarts, inviting visitors to consider the nature of disgust. The entry ticket is a sick bag.
There is no easy segue from that to the food scene, so I’ll just say that Malmö has two of the best restaurants I’ve come across in recent years – the more informal Ruth’s; and Aster, where I think I may have had the best starter and dessert I’ve ever has the pleasure of eating. If they’re in season, be sure to order the courgettes with hollandaise, and the pistachio cake… try to forget about the Disgusting Food Museum as you’re eating them.
Malmö to Göteborg – 3h12m
No slightly toilety smell, no delays, no sitting on the floor, and no strikes. My early train glides out of Malmö C, past, admittedly, a little bit of industrial decline, certainly an IKEA, and then through some surprisingly flat – though beautiful – Swedish countryside (the hills start further north). I finally arrive at – and let me spell the Swedish pronunciation for you as they all looked impressed when I said it – ‘Yacht-ah-bore-ey’, and move effortlessly through another stunning train station just over the road from my hotel.
The Clarion Post was once the central Post Office, so it’s not just a clever name. The cavernous lobby houses a popular swanky local bar, and there is fantastic modern art everywhere you look, including some colour-changing Three Wise Monkeys guarding the entrance.
Time for another Swedish term – Lagom. It basically means ‘just the right amount’… Goldilocks as a national mindset. I am told that Gothenburg prides itself on being the Lagom of Swedish cities – twice the size of Malmö and half the size of Stockholm. Walkable yet cosmopolitan, boujee yet affordable. The food is similarly Lagom, from the casual yet excellent dining of Diket to the Michelin-starred yet informal Koka, which also has a wine bar that stays open until 3am at weekends.
Now for perhaps the most important Swedish word of them all – Fika. It’s a pause in the day to talk, catch up, and reconnect with friends… and it has to be over coffee and cake. Moreover, you can’t have Fika on your own, it needs to be with other people, and, if you have a refill, you’re having a påtår, but this word is exclusively used in reference to coffee – one cannot have a påtår of tea. There are many rules for such a happy and relaxed nation. Da Matteo, with a few iterations scattered throughout the city, should be your Fika port of call.
A short journey to the cherished archipelago by tram and then by ferry presents a different, though incredibly important, side of the country. The Swedes like to get out there – forage, sail, fish, hike… all these options are available on reaching Vrångö, one of the southernmost Gothenburg archipelago islands, where you can also install yourself in Kajkanten B&B, run by ex-wrestler Håkan. I arrive the day after lobster season starts, and a fisherman gives my tour guide (they’ve just met) a bag of freshly caught crabs, weighing at least 10 kg, along with his mother’s recipe for their preparation. I carry them back to our ferry, the bag occasionally moving in a way that I can only describe as unsettling.
Göteborg to Stockholm – 3h1m
I pull into the Slutstation – that’s the Swedish word for ‘terminus’ – after a smooth, softly-lit trip across Sweden’s east coast. The scenery takes on a more alpine air, lush forests teeming with fir trees and lakes, and hints at the more mountainous regions to the north.
Stockholm is, of course, the jewel in Sweden’s crown – almost literally – royal palaces and traditional tall Swedish townhouses run along the cobbled streets and sit stylishly alongside buildings from the socialist era of the 1970s, integrating historic buildings which have found a new purpose. One of these is my beautiful hotel – The Nobis – housed in an old bank in the city centre… but not just any bank. This was the scene of the infamous Norrmalmstorg robbery, where the hostages fell in love with their captors – that’s right – Stockholm Syndrome.
Having deposited my suitcase, I take a walk around a city which has design in its DNA. The multiple interior shops, including Swedish institution Svenskt Tenn, with its timeless patterned creations; fashion houses such as Acne Studios Archive – a pared-back aesthetic with a Scandi flourish; and a newly opened inner-city IKEA (Oxford St gets one next year) – world-conquering Scandinavian design featuring built self-assembly marital arguments.
There is an epic fika offering at the equally impressive Fotografiska museum, a short bus ride out of the centre. If you’re not stuffed enough for the day, the restaurant scene is nipping at Copenhagen’s heels as a foodie capital. As ever with Stockholm, there are the options of traditional and modern – the contemporary wood-fired Ekstedt, and the opulent, classical setting of Operakällaren, both of them employing gastronomic theatre differently, and both wearing Michelin stars on their chefs’ whites. With the latter’s indulgent tasting menu, I was grateful at the end of the night that my hotel was close by.
Time for a palette cleanser, and following a refreshing morning sojourn around the ‘Venice of the North’ on a city boat tour, I head a few tram stops from the centre in order to say ‘Thank You for the Music’. Do not get to the excellent ABBA Museum for opening time – you’ll be met by queues and sharp-elbowed tourists with no spatial awareness. If you arrive around lunchtime, you’re guaranteed a more leisurely pace, and then you can wander back along the harbour via the many other museums which sit in close proximity.
And now for my final train. Reaching speeds of 200km/h, the smooth, modern, and reliable Arlanda Express reaches Stockholm Airport in around 15 minutes via a bright, comfortable waiting room and a sign that requests “Thank you for not smoking on our nice platforms.”
A feeling of balance pervades Sweden – of indoors and out, of efficiency and serenity, traditional and modern, work and life, welfare and self-sufficiency, and this somehow translates into their rail system – a compromise on speed, sure – but somehow easier, more reliable, and underwritten by the state so people don’t have to fret as much. They seem to have hit a sweet spot… if only there was a word for it.
When I get back, there’s no train home from Waterloo East – there’s a rail strike. My my…
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