Time moves slower here. I feel it when I walk down the picturesque but near empty main street on a Saturday morning. I feel it when I do the dishes in the outdoor kitchen after dinner. I feel it when I flip through the local newspaper featuring a double length centre fold story where a real human being interviews two real human beings about climbing the local hill.
The family watches flow tv on the same single screen in our the rented cabin. No skipping commercials. No pausing the movie to not miss out when going for a bio break in the service building.
I’m in Malmköping for the weekend. We have been here twice before when the kids were small. I was looking for a base near Eskilstuna to go see the Sigurd Stone. It’s a one hour drive from Stockholm. But this is also a great excuse for a little family timeout to break the routines.
In the heart of Sörmland
Malmköping is a town of some 2000 people. Beautifully sited where two roads meet in the middle of Sörmland, the region south west of Stockholm.
Malmköping was home to Regiment Sörmland for some two centuries. Founded back when Sweden was a great power fighting wars in Germany, Poland, Ukraine, Finland, Baltics. Its main feature is a huge open space, a clearing in the forest where soldiers could march and camp. Now the square hosts flea markets and travelling tivolis. When railroads were built in the 19th century, Malmköping missed out. Lines passed north and south. Entrepreneurial citizens then built a connecting line to the nearest larger town, Eskilstuna, to not miss out.
Catching a ride to nowhere
Today Malmköping is home to the Swedish Urban Transport Museum. When Sweden changed to right side driving, cities all around Sweden gave up on their street cars. The local rail line became a refuge for these inventions that progress had made redundant.
I walk the dog and explore the tracks of the street car museum. First service departs at 10:45 a man dressed in a handsome grey uniform volunteers. There is time. No rush hour. No rush to get somewhere else fast. The track loops back on itself.
We explore the museum’s collection of street cars. Hailing from Malmö, Helsingborg, Gothenburg. Even Kiruna had a street car service. Now they are all here. Taken care of by volunteers and mostly in working order. We board a street car for a cosy ride through the countryside. Forests and lakes. We get off at the camp site to grab lunch.
Prizes for participation
Kids ask what we are doing next. What the plan is. I ask what would you like to do? We are here to enjoy ourselves. We pick blueberries in the forest next to the camp site. I entertain the kids with a round of mini golf. We are not playing to win, we are playing for fun. Everyone gets an ice cream afterwards.
In the evening we grab a beer and a burger at the campsite restaurant. Out here, a beer is a beer and a burger is a burger. No fancy gourmet menu. There is live music this evening. A troubadour enters the stage. Entertains us with a pub quiz and a repertoire where everyone can join in. Beatles, Pippi. Knocking on Heaven’s Door attributed to Guns and Roses. Bara Bada Bastu of course. We sing along. Dance for fun. We don’t know anyone. Here it doesn’t matter if you don’t know the lyrics, is a little overweight, and came to the party dressed in your most comfortable slacks.
We win a prize mostly for participation. There are plenty of prizes. The music continues into the night as my wife and I leave to catch the sunset over the lake. Kids back in the cabin.
Something important
We don’t know anyone but still; next morning I congratulate a guest from the neighbour table for winning the quiz. We smalltalk about camping, weather, travelling. Nothing important. Except, it is. I see you. You see me. We confirm each other. That we belong here. In this camp site. On this planet. It feels good to be back in Malmköping.
