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| stockholm #4 |
I took the Viking ferry from Helsinki to Stockolm. It was a rough crossing and it was snowing.
The boat was full of Russians spending the last of their petro-dollars, and Swedish men with lots of gold chains around their necks buying snuff.
I saw one man buying over fifty packets of the stuff. The EU may have banned the sale of snuff but the Swedes can't get enough of snuff and it appears they raid the boats from Finland to buy the stuff.
The Russians put on their fur coats, fur hats, fur boots and marched off into town. It is about a 2 km walk from the boat into the old town. I trundled along behind a gaggle of polar bear Russian women, and although they were BIG they could really move.
I was out of breath trying to keep their perfume within sniffing distance. They were motoring. Heads bent into the wind and laughing. I thought to myself... these are the children of the women that won the II world war, and now they were storming Stockholm. They were irresistable.
The day could not make up its mind it did not know if it wanted to rain or snow. It had a middle-ages feel to it. The roofs slick and wet.
It was a day for performing executions. It was a day for ox carts hauling criminals off to the gallows. A day for kings and queens to sip tea and eat cake in the wormth of their castles, while the plebs shivered in the shelter of the narrow streets.
I took refuge like many others in a church and took some photos. Since I did not have a tripod I used the pews as a stable base to do three exposure auto-bracketing of the alter, pulpit golden crowns, a menorah, and a sculpture of Saint George killing a dragon. The whole place was a mish mash of confusing symbols.
It was as though all religions were represented, and the capitalistic children of the Russian revolution took off their fur coats and wondered why this church had not been turned into a warehouse like in the good old days.
Perhaps it was a warehouse and we didn't know.
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