Stockhom Syndrome

Entering the second week of our trip, both Ivan and I could safely say that if Scandinavia was our captor, then we were sympathetic hostages.  The two countries we visited thus far were nothing short of fantastic.  Iceland was slightly less European, more rustic and with unbridled natural beauty (except for those horses), but without a doubt the friendliest people we have encountered.  

Oslo was more cosmopolitan and trendy, but with its fjords, outdoor cafes and great nightlife, no less impressive.  Upon arriving in Stockholm and checking in to the Sheraton (I caved and used Starwood points for a night), we were met with a whole different type of beauty.  Crossing the bridge to Gamla Stan, or Old Town Stockholm, we caught a spectacular nighttime view of the city's Gothic buildings.

For dinner, we headed to Aifur Krog & Bar.  This place was really highly rated on a bunch of different food and travel websites.  I was skeptical (see facial expression direclty below) as it seemed like it was going to be a bit cheesy, with the Viking theme and all.  But, it was getting late and we were tired, so we decided to roll the dice.

Aifur didn't disappoint though (see facial expression directly below). The mood was jovial, the seating was communal (we were at a table with a nice family from Madrid), and the servers were affable.  The food itself was probably the biggest surprise.  As it was a Viking place, Ivan and I decided to order the most Viking-like thing on the menu - a big plate of meat with root vegetables, accompanied by glasses of mead (fermented honey) wine.

Strips of steak, lamb chops and a small heritage breed chicken were the meats, and the sauces were a couple of different jus and a mushroom cream.  There were also some lingonberries to brighten up the plate.  Probably the star of the show was the heritage chicken.  Shortly before leaving on the trip, I met with some purveyors of heritage chickens who would like to sell to ROAM.  I learned that there is a huge difference in the lineage of these chickens, whose breed dates back hundreds of years before chickens were cross bred for large breasts (Americans love big breasts...when it comes to chickens) that cannot be supported by their bodies.  Trust me when I say that heritage is the way to go.  This chicken, though much smaller, was some of the juiciest and sweetest (yes, the meat was actually sweet) I have ever tasted.

Aifur was touristy for sure, but it also caters to at least some locals, as, towards the end of our meal, we were joined at our table by a group celebrating a birthday.  We chatted with them for a bit, and they were kind enough to invite us along to another bar in the Old Town where the birthday celebration would continue.  At the next bar, we ordered beer mead (a bit different from the wine mead we had at dinner), and this place also had a medieval vibe.  

Mind you, these guys below were real Swedes, NOT in costume.  Evidently, they were into some pretty heavy death metal, though their demeanor was as gentle and welcoming as could be.  Maybe it was the mead talking, but Ivan got the idea to challenge Markus to an arm wrestling match.  I get the feeling that Markus doesn't get challenged to arm wrestling very often.  I get the feeling Markus doesn't get challenged to anything very often.  Markus's Mom: "Markus, do your homework!"  Markus: "No."  Markus's Mom: "Okay."

(Morgan Freeman voice) "I wish I could tell you that Ivan fought the good fight and that Markus let him be.  I wish I could tell you that - but prision is no fairy tale world.  He never said who did it, but we all knew.  Things went on like that for awhile.  Prision life consists of routine, and then more routine.  Markus kept at him.  I believe that if things had gone on that way, this place would have got the best of him."

Markus was as gracious in victory as Ivan was in defeat.  And so, we finished our mead, and headed back for the hotel to get some rest for a full day ahead of us in a new Scandinavian city.