Day 2, actually has it’s origins on day 1. Midday on day 1, we left the urban splendour of Frankfurt for Copenhagen en-route to Malmo. To enter properly, let me show the home of day 1, if you missed it: http://ning.it/jFDi5D
Back to Day 2. As a boy from SA, I find 10 -14 degrees quite nippy for a day out, I think I was quite clear about that in Frankfurt. Our arrival in Malmo, was a warm embrace by a stiff breeze, 30 – 40km/h off the North Sea, supported by a burrrrometric 8 degrees, windchill beyond my wildest!
To be true to local conditions, it must be said that Malmo is in Southern Sweden. Southern Sweden, like close neighbour Denmark, is a very flat land, very flat. It is not the kind of flat I am familiar with. In SA we have some serious flat stretches, thinking of the Karoo and even the Free State, these are vertically challenged zones. However, they are not at sea level, they have a natural wind break, which I now realise make a significant difference, but let me reel it back a bit. Before arriving in Malmo, we landed at Copenhagen, about 30kms from Malmo on the Danish side.
All well, still had the luggage and the kids. Met our host, Swedish, blond, 6 foot something, smiling, yay, off we went. Spectacular bridge, 4kms under water tunnel and then about 15kms aerial route over the bridge, seriously cool infrastructure. As you crest the bridge, passing through four giant columns clutching the suspension spaghetti, you see it, all alone, no love from it’s neighbouring low rise subordinates. The Turning Torso Tower of Malmo, elegant, yet demonstrative…I did say this part of the country was flat. I can only image the windchill at 190m above sea level, no I can’t, I am struggling to deal with the windchill at 1.85m. The turning torso tower is in a NEW city development, an entire new neighbourhood, built from scratch, the tower it’s mailbox, showing the way home.
As you descend into the tunnel under the sea and cross the bridge, you develop your awareness of the sea, it, allied by it’s seemingly faithful partner, the wind, carries much influence in these parts. Reaching the Swedish shore, touching down, strolling the waterfront, the beaches stretch out before you, bouldered, strict, wind…waves lashing, relentless, furious. You lean into it, taste the diarrhetic, stare at the fishing trawler, wrecked by recent tides.