A weekend in Örebro

Here we are in the First Hotel on Storgatan, in Örebro. It bears some resemblance to the other First Hotel we stayed in, the one in Eskilstuna, in that its old lift (hiss), the only one in the hotel, is very small and has problematic doors that prevent it from working unless its passengers shut them properly. Our room is on the fifth floor and from our window we can look down onto the hotel terrace.

There is no need for Chris or me to wear a fitbit or whatever to count the number of steps we do per day when we're exploring new places. I'm sure we double the daily requisite; our legs and feet ache accordingly. Yesterday was a lovely day, even so. The sun was shining and after our morning hike along the Katrineholm trails, as described in my last post, and a pleasant journey here by rail, changing trains at Halsberg, we then had all afternoon and evening to explore Örebro. So, more walking.

Slottet and King Karl's pedestal at sunset

Wedding guests by the river, Örebro

Our hotel is more or less at the hub of the city, near the old castle, slottet, 700 years old in parts but "restored" multiple times, so that it looks not quite genuine, a restoration stone edifice with medieval foundations and nineteenth and twentieth century enhancements, sitting in the middle of the Svartaån river, at a point where there are weirs and bridges. Behind the castle, beyond the bus-stops and a statue of King Karl on a tall pedestal, is a square with fountain jets for children to play in. Our street, its extension beyond the river, and the streets at right angles to it, comprise an area prohibited to all traffic except for the the local busses (running on biogas), bikes, wheelchairs and pedestrians. At the moment, early May, the cherry trees on the river banks are in full flower, making this spot all the more attractive. We observed a very smart wedding taking place at the castle, the girls in silky, long dresses of pastel shades, the men in black and white, wearing military medals. They mingled in picturesque groups under the trees.

The other architecture in town seems a mixture of large late nineteenth century buildings and mid- to late-twentieth century block structures. There's a long market square (Stortorget) and below it, for it slopes slightly downhill, is a green space with hillocks and daffodil beds, called Oskarsparken. A little further on we were delighted to find the Stadsträdgården, an extensive park, playground and formal garden with ornamental ponds; it is full of flowers and singing birds---blackbirds and thrushes. They sing in counterpoint from separate trees, one answering the other. At the end of the park furthest from the town centre is one of those old resurrected village installations / open air museums that they do so well in this country: Wadköping. It is well and thoroughly done. The walls are all stained red and stand at crooked angles. The courtyards are cobbled, an old cart parked in one of them. Ancient washing hangs on ropes slung between the fences and the trees. There is grass growing on the roofs and you hear the sound of clopping hooves or the beaten irons in the smithy as you enter the gateways.

All these open air museums are free with permanent public access; I wondered who pays for their upkeep, and Chris says they may pay for themselves through the small shops and cafés on their premises. However I also discovered that, according to an agreement between the Green Party, the Swedish Social Democratic Party, the Centre Party and the Liberals, the current minority government promises to allocate 80 million Kroner to making Sweden's museums accessible to everyone:

"The free admission reform is important in opening up our state-owned museums to more people. There is so much knowledge gathered in our museums, and this must not only benefit those who can afford it,” says Minister for Culture and Democracy Amanda Lind.

We came back through the park and along the riverbank this morning, via the Wadköping village, walking as far as a marina where boats are tied up on return from excursions to the lake into which the river flows, Lake Svartån. We didn't walk as far as the edge of the lake; it was too far off. On the way back we saw the miniature train doing laps of the Stora Holmen, the big island in the river downstream from the elegant mansions on the bank opposite the park.