Further impressions of Eskilstuna

I found Eskilstuna interesting enough to stay there for the rest of the week, not making any more excursions to other towns.

St. Elkis, the 11th century monk after whom this town was named, was an 11th century missionary, allegedly stoned or axed to death for disrupting a native pagan ritual. He was buried at the monastery he'd founded, where the Fors Kyrka stands today. A few centuries later, the town was reformed to become protestant, under King Gustav Vasa.

When I finally entered the old church after two failed attempts (it doesn't open its doors until 11 a.m. and not at all on Mondays and Tuesdays) I liked its simple style and the voice of a young woman practising a solo in the organ loft with the organist accompanying. An elderly man sitting in the front pew glared at me; maybe he was waiting for a service to begin and thought my wandering around obtrusive. I found a row of old carvings on the wall there. The other church of note is the big one on the other side of the river, the brick-built Klosters Kyrka. I went inside that one too and marvelled at its size (accommodates 600 people) and symmetry.

In the 17th century, Eskilstuna was known for its forges; Rademacher, a master smith from Riga, with encouragement from the royal family, created the Rademachersmedjorna Manufakturiet (forge and factory), now reconstructed in the town centre as a cluster of red-coloured wooden huts: a free, open air museum. The townspeople had workshops there, mostly making artillery, but also knives, awls, locks, needles, wrought iron, candlesticks, bridles and other such useful things. It's now a very tranquil part of town, especially if the museum is closed (on Mondays and Tuesdays). Only 50% of the people who lived and worked here in the mid-17th century were actually Swedish; the other 50% were Germans, Finns or Walloons. They baked their own bread and brewed their own beer. In the museum, various personalities are "brought to life" by means of life-sized photos of actors, their stories based on a study of old court records. In the 19th century Eskilstuna became unofficially known as Stålstaden ("The City of Steel"). I came across some derelict steel works by the river, beyond which there's a modern power station (Kraftvärmeverk).

Nowadays it is Volvo who have revived the area, with their construction equipment factory to the west of town, developed around the house originally owned by Johan Theofron Munktell in the 1830s, famous for engineering tractors and the like. The house is still there, serving as their conference centre.

I had a shrimp salad for lunch at the library café, overlooking a square where there was a fountain, a street chess set and magnolia trees, blooming with pink flowers. This is a good time of year to come here, the parks full of cherry blossom, apple blossom and colourful flower beds. I found a rusty iron sculpture representing a beehive; the plaque said that these parks are the home of 50,000 bees (honungsbin). Sparrows there were gathering nest-material in their beaks. The riverside parks featured striking sculptures and flowerbeds. I discovered a stylish tearoom / coffee shop by one of the bridges, and a gula villa, a yellow house, further on.

And so back up the spiral staircase to our room in the hotel where we're staying. The lift (hiss), encased in its wrought iron frame on the right, is the oldest lift in town!

*****

Chris finished what he needed to do by Thursday evening so had an extra day off work on Friday. I had been to the Konst Museet (the free art gallery) and felt it was worth revisiting with Chris along. As I'd expected, he too was impressed by it. Like several other museums in the vicinity---a science museum, city museum, Munktellmuseet, as well as a large swimming pool, gym, school and sports arena--- this spacious art gallery is housed in a former factory workshop. Rather than tear down these substantial industrial buildings, the town has repurposed them. It looks as though the several high schools dotted around the town in old premises are going to be amalgamated into one big glass-fronted school by the river, once the substantial construction work is completed. Because of this, several blocks of the town are closed to traffic at present.

By Maria Nordin

In the art museum, I learned some more Swedish---utan titel, självporträtt, reliefsskulptur, vinterlandskap---for which I didn't need a translation tool. I had to look up "Björknäs": the title of a circular 3-D abstract, painted in reds, that span clockwise; that meant "broken nose"! They had a good collection of Swedish Modernismen from the early 20th century and a good deal of contemporary art. The special exhibition at the far end of the gallery was of large scale (larger-than-life) watercolours by Maria Nordin. A film about her was running; she is a very physical creator, sitting on the floor on top of her paintings, drying them with a hairdryer. In the remainder of the museum were images grouped according to themes, such as self-portraits or small sculptures, old and new together. One very disturbing painting had been done on an old sail for a canvas: Destination Unknown---Destination Okänd.

We lingered till after lunch then collected our luggage and caught a crowded train to Katrineholm, less than an hour away. 

In Eskilstuna, first impressions and two suppers

The hotel where we're staying is across the road from the station, so if I sit at a window table for breakfast, as I did today, I can watch the commuters arriving by train or by bus---either a Biogasbuss or one with drivmedel: 100 % förnybar el---across the station square. Apart from Sweden's environment friendliness, almost everyone wears sports shoes here and you rarely encounter someone who's overweight; it's quite remarkable, especially as the meals from Eskilstuna's eateries seem quite heavy and greasy, served in large portions. Yesterday, in cool but sunny weather, Chris and I walked and walked round the town, largely deserted because it was a Sunday with the shops closed: exercise enough for us. We peered through the windows of some large gym clubs full of exercise machines. People were walking, jogging and cycling through the city parks. Same thing in Stockholm, though there you have the added option of renting one of the electric scooters available for pick-up on almost every street corner. All you need is the app. on your smartphone to set it going.

Pretending to scoot, in Stockholm

Eskilstuna is just over an hour's ride on the train from Stockholm. Buying the tickets, we'd treated ourselves to 1st class seats, but when the actual train pulled in we couldn't find our allotted carriage so travelled 2nd class instead. It was old with grubby windows, maybe a replacement train; we enjoyed the late afternoon ride even so, through urban territory as far as Södertälje where (a year ago) Chris met employees of Scania AB, and then through rocky, forested landscape with occasional lakes or grassy fields, similar to Ontario. I caught a glimpse of Eskilstuna's riverfront as we pulled into this town and felt that this would be a very pleasant spot to spend the week. Sure enough, it is pleasant. The light in the sky on that first evening, after our supper at the sumptuous Lebanese Meze Lounge on Drotninggatan, was delightful, falling on the colourful houses that line the Eskiltunaån River in the older part of town.

Chris by the river at Eskilstuna, on our first evening here

While we waited for our supper we'd been interested in the party taking place at one side of the restaurant, maybe a special birthday or anniversary, with balloons and speeches, the attendees smartly dressed and on their best behaviour. At one point they sang a congratulatory song  to whomever they were celebrating---Ja må han leva!

Yesterday (Sunday) evening we had supper at the Bishop's Arms; it seemed an authentic copy of an English pub, complete with a quiz night in which we could almost have taken part, had we been more daring or better at guessing what was said. The questions read out over the microphone by the quiz master had multiple choice answers. Groups of anglophones in the pub, who understood enough Swedish to participate, were enjoying this, giving one another spontaneous translations. In spite of the English atmosphere I was able to order a Czech beer and a typical Swedish dish, råraka, a deep fried potato pancake garnished with loganberries, sourcream, parsley and gherkins.