9) For whatever arcane reason, outdoor johns -- 
pardon me, loos -- must display a photo of the King and Queen. So while sitting on the royal throne, feel free to gaze lovingly upon the picture of King Carl XVI Gustaf and Queen Silvia. I know I did.
8) Stockholm is an amazingly beautiful city. The Swedish capital is an archipelago, with the main city consisting of fourteen islands connected by 53 bridges that must be traversed by foot for the beauty, and because taxis are crazy expensive (as is booze & food, but just fool yourself by “misunderstanding” the exchange rate). Stockholm has all the accouterments of a world-class European city: a royal palace with a changing of the guard; waterways galore; narrow, cobblestone streets with shops tended by local artisans; a palatable sense of {Viking} history; an efficient, clean mass transit system and countless teenagers sporting the unpleasant haircuts of Siouxsie & the Banshees. Stockholm should be mentioned in the same icy breath as London, Venice, Paris and its archrival, Helsinki.
7) At Wirstroms pub in Stockholm’s popular Gamla Stan neighborhood, patrons can order the “New Yorker” sandwich. It consists of a chicken breast, bacon, cheddar cheese and barbecue sauce because if there’s one menu item that defines New York City, it’s the renowned chicken breast, bacon, cheddar cheese and barbecue sauce sandwich.
6) Swedes are a good-looking bunch, even the ugly folk are rosy-cheeked and obesity only rolls through the streets when the Carnival Cruise Line docks. Probably has something to do with the half dozen septuagenarians I saw riding their bicycles in 30-degree weather…while it snowed. And speaking of snow, Sweden’s bloodlines are whiter than the picket fences in a planned community in Utah. Not a lot of race-mixing going on here because there’s not a lot of races going on here, in the rural hinterlands or cosmopolitan Stockholm.
5) When you return to your hotel after knocking back a few mugs of Spendrups Visby pilsner at a Stockholm pub, you will find Sweden shows pornography on television. This isn’t the soft-core Cinemax-style stuff you have to pay for at the Sheraton either. It’s the real deal. And it’s found on more than one channel. I suppose now would be a good time to consider the sexual mores of the younger, more conservative United States as compared to the older, more lenient Scandinavian country, but that would take away from the key point to be made. Sweden shows hardcore pornography on regular television.
4) Try the reindeer. It’s excellent. I had Santa’s helpers served as steak, stew, meatballs and in a makeshift burrito. It’s tender, but not gamey like venison. Be sure to get a side of lingonberry sauce with your grilled Blitzen.
3) Think twice before visiting the Absolut Ice Bar at the Nordic Sea Hotel. It’s fun to don the massive, down, robot-silver ponchos and get served two one-ounce fruity vodka drinks in a cup made of ice, but it’s not $34 worth of fun to stand around in a freezing cold room filled with strangers. Maybe the best approach would be to sneak in a flask of brannvin, unsweetened Swedish schnapps. Javla!
2) Lots of Euros I met in Sweden – Germans, Belgians, Russians, Swedes of course – said “weally, weally nice” instead of “really, really nice.” It was never not funny to me. So I guess I’m not weally, weally, nice. Still funny, though.
1) A random poll of a five Swedish dudes that I was doing shots of brannvin with around a bonfire revealed that nobody has heard of Swedish Fish or the Old Milwaukee Swedish Bikini Team. To a man, however, the Swedish Chef is not only known, but also beloved. The schnapps and the instantaneous group outburst of “herdy, gurdy, dersky flurska do, Yorn desh born, der ritt, bork bork bork” warmed this internationalist’s heart. See, we Americans aren’t cultural imperialists exporting vapid calories, cheap beer and an infantile obsession with fake jugs… just Muppets, that’s all.
And to my Swedish brothers and sisters I say: Bork, bork! Bork, bork! indeed.
(Photos courtesy of Bentley)
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