Interlocked islands, rambling streets, sloping hills, Vikings history, lapping waves—welcome to Stockholm. This is a city on the water. A city composed of islands. One of Europe’s cleanest, greenest cities. Bright and colourful, upbeat and happy, lively and hard at work, Sweden is a sparsely-populated yet very advanced nation. It has a long history, yet is one of the most modern and progressive country in Europe. Perhaps it’s the cold—it make you work faster?—perhaps it’s the language—structured and to the point—or the just the culture—they are known for their directness—but it is hard to beat the Swedes for a nicer, greener, more progressive or harder-working nation where every piece of information is given so directly and every person has the right to walk anywhere they want (even on private property). Well—except perhaps for Norway. Or Denmark. But don’t tell that to the Swedes! 😉
Of all forms of transportation, trains and trams are certainly the most romantic. Visit any city that still uses its old-fashioned trams, and you can’t help but smile at them, reminded of black-and-white films and all that they come with. In the evening light, old-fashioned trams are even more picturesque and romantic – and downtown Antwerp is no different. While the central square of Antwerp is both beautiful and well-populated with tourists, most of the old town is quiet and empty, the kind of streets where one can hear the rustle of leaves and tap, tap of shutters against walls. You walk along the tram tracks, lost in a zig-zag of backstreets lined with brick houses, searching for a restaurant or perhaps just going for an evening stroll, when suddenly in the dim haze, you see a small light in the distance. No more is all quiet; you can hear the clacking of the tram’s wheels against the iron, you can see the swaying motion of the carriages as the tram takes the bend. Flattening yourself against one of the buildings, you watch as the round headlight grows bigger and bigger until finally, the tram chugs by you, disappearing around the next corner–leaving you alone on the street once more with nothing more than the rustle of the wind to keep you company.