Desperately Seeking Sweden

…in Kiruna. And the Norwegians say to the Englishwoman: ”What are you doing here?” And she explains she’s on a summer trip, travelling around the country. And the Norwegians ask: ”Which country? We don’t really know where we are. We were meant to be going to a festival in Skellefteå but we got thrown off the train. Are we in Sweden?”

Yes, a simple endeavour of a quiet evening meal was scuppered by the slightly worse-for-wear duo of Jan-Olav and Torgrim (who encouraged me to call him the Grim Norwegian Reaper). This was not wholly inapt as he did bear a slight resemblance to your stereotypical mugshot of an axe murderer.

I stuck around for a pint’s worth of merriment before making my excuses and going home on an empty stomach. Shame as I was rather looking forward to sampling some local delicacies.  So today I headed off to Thorneas Ren Produkter – the town’s famous all-things-reindeer shop. 

Dried reindeer: sadly it doesn't come in salt 'n' vinegar flavour

As you enter, you’re met with a mass of hunting paraphernalia donning the walls of the place. I was kindly invited to try a selection of dried favourites from the rather manly ”wild and smoked” to the slightly more girly ”essenced with juniper berry.”  

Souvas. Exotic kebab. Sorted.

The stuff is pretty strong on the palate but not entirely unpleasurable. Saying that I wouldn’t want to be challenged to an all-you-can-eat reindeer buffet, two-for-the-price-of-one. However, lunch time beckoned and for the ultimate ravenous feast of reindeer I highly recommend a large souvas please. An exotic twist on a mainstay of the staple British diet, it’s essentially a kebab and even comes complete with the obligatory garlic sauce. Brilliant. I feel as much at home here now as Grim N. Reaper would let loose amid the hanging exhibits of the reindeer shop. 

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I am pleased to report, a very warm welcome has heralded my Arctic start to the journey. I am in Kiruna – 150 or so kilometres north of the Arctic circle and earlier today I found myself with 18 crowns in my purse, and no ATM in sight. So I attempt to pay the bus into town with my credit card and the driver looks amused. Whilst I fumble around looking for spare change, the weight of my rucksack gets the better of me and backwards I fall – much to the enjoyment of a group of local teenagers. The driver can see I’m a backpacking amateur and lets me pay the child’s fare, much to my enjoyment as I crack open a celebratory first-day beer on the back seat.

Off the bus, out comes the map and in no time I’m greeted by 89-year-old Sune Nilsson – a true Lapland veteran – who detects my lack of navigational skills and shows me the way to the youth hostel. Sune tells me that he’s bored of living in Kiruna. ”It’s okay if you’re a reindeer,” he says. ”But I’m not a reindeer,” he points out. He’s not much of a map reader either and sends me in the wrong direction but I forgive him on account of his poetic ode-to-not-having-antlers.

The locals are indeed a pretty happy bunch, which is surprising when you consider the fact, their houses could possibly fall into the ground in the next few years. Kiruna is moving. Yes, the city parts are either being pulled down or shifted sideways due to the subsidence caused by the iron mines. The City Hall dwellers prefer to call it a ”transformation project”, probably to counteract over-eager press interest and play the story down a bit. I was informed today, however, that a Japanese TV crew have already visited and documented the story.

Kiruna City Hall - Architectural feat or brown concrete and scaffold clock?

So Kiruna is well and truly on the map. Its City Hall won’t be forever though, and this building – which oddly won an architectural award in the sixties for being a aesthetically pleasing public structure – will be going going gone.

Speaking of gonners, spare a thought for poor Hjalmar Lundbohm – the city’s so-called ”founder” and first boss of the local mining company – who is also having to relocate. That would be from the grounds of Kiruna Church where he has been buried since 1926.

Now, before I head off to sample some delicious cuts of Sune meat this evening, I have to say I have already had my first invitation en route, courtesy of Matt and Lindy who run a B&B in Tärnaby. Brilliant. I look forward to meeting them soon and discussing all things Ingemar Stenmarck.

Another shout out to anyone who has a spare place for me to stay in Pajala this weekend. The annual market comes to town – a throwback tradition to the 18th century so I’m told, which remarkably turns this provincial Swedish/Finnish village  into party central so the hostel is all booked up. I’ve kindly got Kerstin from the local tourist info office working on finding me a place as well. She’s in charge of the weekend’s activities and in exchange of a floor to sleep on I’ve offered to be a spare backing dancer in the muscial ”Tribute to Pajala” on stage on Saturday as well as compete in Sunday’s accordian-playing competition.

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