In Gamla Stan

I had dreamt of narrow, claustrophobic alleys, cobblestone paths, tiny balconies and elegant windows on skinny buildings that held each other for support.

There, ahead of me was my imagination in 3D—obviously, I was pleased with myself. I walked through the main thoroughfare, looking up and down crooked alleys, listening to the cloppety-clop of people’s heels on the cobblestones. I would return to Stockholm’s Old Town two more times, squeezing in every moment possible in this place before getting back home. Seventeen years can be quite a long time.

But Gamla Stan has been around for over 750 years, and today, it is one of Stockholm’s biggest tourist attractions. The main road—Vasterlanggatan— hosts an array of shops selling the usual touristy kind of stuff, and there are cafes and restaurants as well. Here’s where most tourists trawl through, and I followed suit. I espied a tiny bar-cum-cafe‚ squeezed between a souvenir shop and a fashion boutique. With walls of dark wood and well-worn wooden tables with benches and dim lighting, it was cosy and warm inside.

During the course of a small pastry and free refills of black coffee, I found out that the Stockholm municipality makes sure that there’s no alteration done to any of the old structures and in fact, helps owners of these places to maintain the unique architectural heritage. Out on the street again, I felt that the contents of the souvenir shops were all reassuringly familiar. Want to tell others you’ve been there and bought the T-shirt? Get your shopping done in China. Sweden is an expensive place to shop anyway.

Like Venice, this is a city built on water. Thankfully, unlike the floating Italian town, there are brilliant roads and sidewalks to explore it on foot. But to me, the best views are to be had standing on any of the numerous bridges that straddle Stockholm’s 14 islands. On either side of a bridge, shimmering water forms the base, and holds up the graceful buildings and spires which stand in alto relief against the summer sky’s radiant blue.

Stockholm, like most European cities, has its share of standard architectural highlights—an opera house, a parliament, a palace (the Kungliga Slottet) and a town hall. The town hall here is rather special. It’s called Stadthuset and this is where the city’s councillors meet. But it’s more famous as the place where the Nobel banquets are held. Built between 1911 and 1923, the Stadthuset can be seen only through guided tours.

Since I was in Nobel country, I thought I might as well vicariously live the life of a prizewinner. The tour guide explained the various architectural aspects of the Stadthuset, and also showed a glaring design mistake in the Golden Hall’s mosaic wall. I guess the whole experience would be too heady for the prizewinners to notice it.

Stockholm has many museums, each one catering to one field or the other. I headed straight to the grand National Museum, which houses over 16,000 pieces of painting and sculpture, including those by masters like Rembrandt, Rubens, Goya, Renoir, Degas and Gauguin. It took me the better part of the day, and that’s only because I gave the decorative arts (period tapestries, china, glass, silver furniture), the Swedish artists and a massive exhibition of the work of Sergel, Sweden’s famous 18th century sculptor, just a quick once over.

Next, I took a ride on a sightseeing boat that made its way through various waterways and shipping channels, and of course, under many bridges. Maybe it’s a lazy way of viewing Stockholm, but the city unfolded itself and made me privy to all its intimate moments. A man playing with his dog; another one sitting and mulling on a park bench in the gorgeous Djurgarden; workers dangling their feet in the water and having lunch; even two girls kissing each other.

Far removed from these moments in time is the bustling business and shopping centre of modern Stockholm—Sergels Torg, a square that’s unusual because it is below street level. A maze of tunnels and subways branch out from here, leading to the central station, various gardens and malls.

I prefer natural light over man-made, so I leaned against the railing and watched the hundreds of people below, walking at cross-purposes. It was a novel experience, but I soon realised I preferred the closed confines of Gamla Stan’s narrow alleys, and made my way back there.