Discovering Skånsen

STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN -- June 14, 2006

Sunshine, sunshine, sunshine -- the sky was cloudless and promised more of the same beautiful sun that had stretched nearly to infinity just the day before. We were quickly approaching summer solstice -- just one week to go -- and the days this far north were longer than any I had ever seen. I had read about an open-air folk museum just a ferry-hop away, on Djurgården, another island down and around the bend.

Skånsen, as it was called, was begun in 1891, in an effort to preserve the historical roots of Sweden by consolidating some of its oldest buildings, from all over the country, into one central village. Over 150 original homes and buildings were uprooted from their birthplace and transported to Djurgården, where they now rested, shaded with the leafy branches of indigenous trees, and filled with the every-day artifacts of Sweden's first villagers.

I spent hours wandering its shady lanes, leading from church to city hall to apothecary to worker's quarters. I talked with the Swedish workers (who spoke perfect English), dressed in vintage clothing, and carrying out the daily tasks of heating broth over a wood-lit stove, shearing sheep in a musty stable, and gathering herbs from a nearby garden.

Just feet away, hens and roosters clucked contentedly as they scavenged the fruitful earth for bits of food, and a couple of goats, finished with their mid-day grazing, lazed together in a soft patch of grass, their bellies moving in cadence as their glassy, black eyes looked me over. Here and there, along the footpaths, rune stones rose from the earth, these stone-carved panels from ancient times bearing the carvings, alphabet, and emblems of Sweden's earliest settlers.

Later that afternoon, I joined a gaggle of kid-toting parents as they followed a park worker from animal pen to animal pen. It was feeding time. Mother sows, with their squealing litter suckling away, hid near the sturdy fenceposts as if shy from the attention. A pair of brown bears bellowed up at the wide-eyed crowd as the worker tossed a few lifeless fish down into the ravine. A family of reindeer munched on grasses within their own little habitat, barely aware of the crowd that had gathered around them. And then, without warning, the skies blanketed over with thick gray clouds, and rain began to fall by the bucketfulls.

Rain continued to fall for the rest of the afternoon, stopping short just before the sky began dimming with the tease of sunset. It had been a short but enjoyable two days in Stockholm, and somehow, I managed to leave with my budget still intact.

~Melanie