Scandinavia Part IV - A New Hope

I knew next to nothing before coming to Sweden and, though I know a bit more than I did a week ago, this place is still a complete mystery.  It will take me a few days to process Stockholm, Uppsala and, of course, my trip to Fäviken.  Those posts will come later.  Patience.

About 200 miles south of the arctic circle lies the town of Åre (pronounced "oar-uh" so you don't go around pronouncing it "arr-eh" for a week like I did).  The Swedes are a goofy bunch and after spending a few days in the far north I can see why.  If I didn't have a cell phone or some other way of keeping the time I would never, NEVER have known what time it was.  Along the latitudes I normally inhabit I can always tell about what time it is based on the position of the sun.  Even without staring at the sky and triangulating the sun's position, the morning just has a different feel from the afternoon, sunrise looks different than sunset, etc.  The Scandinavian day does not share this logic.  The sun just sort of dances around up there at random.  It might go down for a few hours at night but it's more like a planetary game of peekaboo than a full sunset.

Midnight in Jämtland

After a 7 hour train ride north from Stockholm (which ended up as a 9.5 hour train/bus ride) I arrived in Åre to this:

What was supposed to be a nice 2-hour hike up to my hotel turned into a cranky 250 SEK cab ride.  However, after my first Swedish sauna experience**, a cup of strong Swedish coffee, a delicious dinner which included arctic char sashimi and reindeer fillet, I spent the night in this:

Awoke to this:

                      

And walked outside to this:

**I'm no stranger to hot tubs.  I've had my fair share of stateside hot tub/sauna experiences both relaxing and drunken.  I've experienced Onsen hot springs in Japan, and now the infamous sauna's of Sweden, and I can finally admit that I just don't get it.  I have no problem with the nudity thing, it's just that, well... sauna's are freakin' HOT.  Too hot.  I don't derive any relaxation or enjoyment from just sitting around and sweating.  Maybe I'm not doing it right.  Anyway...

This beautiful, contemplative cloudy hike through the Jämtlandian mountainside (Jämtland means "flat land"-  clearly, the Swedes are unfamiliar with the American midwest) turned into this later in the afternoon:

Needless to say this place is one of the more beautiful landscapes I've ever had the great pleasure to traverse.  Everything about this place is so wonderful.  Even the air is crisper and more refreshing.  

I spent three days walking all over these mountains, meeting delightful Swedes (who incidentally, apart from being super goofy, are among the most wonderful and generous people I've met), eating fantastic food, and reflecting on the wonder and mystery that is life.

Next time on Wargo's World:

Things that make Sweden great:

• Caviar for breakfast.
• Liver and Pickle Sandwiches
• Right of Access - Law that allows anyone to travel/camp anywhere in the country.  Not sure if I would love this if I lived here and owned property, but as a tourist, this is wonderful.
• Everyone... and I do mean everyone... speaks English.
• You can drink water from any lake, river or stream you come across.

Things that make Sweden less great:

• Archaic liquor laws.  And we thought U.S. liquor laws were terrible...
• Insanity-inducing daylight hours.
• The Swedish Krona
• Old, elderly Swedish gentlemen and their collective disdain for clothing.
• Mosquitoes 

And for my food friends... a brief teaser...

Farmer Dave

I love eggs.  I probably eat them almost everyday.  When cooking lunch or dinner for myself I will usually finish it off by cracking a raw egg on top of whatever it is I'm eating.  Eggs are wonderful and they make the world go round.  As I've gotten older and delved deeper into the wide world of food I've constantly had my mind blown by eggs.  First there were farmers market eggs, then free-range eggs, and then Japanese eggs, which really call into question the "free-rangedness" of American free-range.  After those Japanese eggs I thought I had probably reached the plateau of how delicious eggs could be....

until these bad boys...

Early in June I spent two weeks on farm in Srbsko, a tiny village in the middle of the Česky Ráj (bohemian paradise) region, as part of a program called WorldWide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOF).  The basic premise is that in exchange for about 8 hours of work per day you are given room and board on an organic farm (this is also the basic premise of slavery as my Dad loves reminding me).  However, apart from merely indenturing oneself to a farm, WWOOFing gives you the opportunity to learn all about organic farming, permaculture, animal husbandry, etc., while reminding us city slickers of certain things we've long-ago forgotten such as:  how rewarding physical labor can be; what silence sounds like; what stars look like; and most importantly, what food actually tastes like.  Eggs from a grocery store truly taste like nothing.  Farm eggs, taken directly out from under chickens who spend all day wandering the farm eating whatever they like (chickens at Ranch Srbsko are never fed during the summer.. they graze), taste like the earth- rich, complex- no two ever alike.  I never thought I would use the word "terroir" to describe eggs.  

But living on a farm changes many things about the way we view food.  First and foremost is that it reconnects us with where our food is coming from.  Words like "organic," "free-range," "heirloom/heritage," are only words if we've never really learned and experienced first-hand what they mean.  Sure I knew what they meant in a vague, academic way, but once I saw organic processes and tasted the result, the real effects of the terms "inorganic," "commercial" and "GMO" started to become real and subsequently horrifying.  

It's amazing to think that for as much beef, milk, cream, cheese and butter as I've consumed in my almost 27 years of life, that this is the first time I've touched a cow.  I think that this phenomenon- this lack of real connection to the genesis of what sustains us, is directly responsible for our modern attitude of wanton indulgence in food and our indifference to its quality.  An oft-touted argument of many vegetarians is that the vast majority of meat eaters play no part in the more shameful acts of meat-eating.  A boneless, skinless chicken breast in it's plastic cellophane bears little resemblance and tells no story of the animal or the sacrifice that was made to put it there.  Since we meat-eaters have our dirty work done for us, we don't have to think about it and are free to indulge mindlessly in our meat. We don't care that commercial meat has no flavor, that commercial animals are tortured, that we eat way more meat than is good for us; we simply consume.  

Vegetarians say that if people actually had to take part in the butchering of animals that everyone would be a vegetarian.  If the butchering took place in a commercial abattoir I wouldn't disagree.  However, killing animals for food is such an integral part of our history as human beings.  If countless generations of human beings killed animals for food every day and still maintained their carnivorous natures, I doubt that a return to that way of life in this modern age would change anything.  Simply put, working on a farm brings us in tune with the cycle of life and with truths we have forgotten- namely, that in order to sustain life, we must consume it.  Just because a Soybean doesn't scream when we rip it from the ground doesn't mean that we are doing anything less than destroying life to sustain our own.  The Swedish chef Magnus Nilsson wrote that meat eaters should have to have a license to eat meat.  In order to obtain that license, a person must raise an animal from infancy, watch it grow, and then slaughter it for food.  I agree completely and far from turning people off of meat, I think it would give us a level of respect for food we as a society haven't had in a century and would put an end to factory farms- and as we dove deeper down the rabbit hole, other agricultural evils we've come to accept as the norm.  

Here are some pictures of life on the farm!

The Farm!  Fun Fact:  The plant in the foreground is Wormwood, one of the many herbs used in Absinthe and the one responsible for its (unjust) demonization.  It smells delightful.

Indian Runner Ducks: These are most hilarious birds I've ever seen.  If you want a good laugh look up some youtube videos of them.  They can be real dicks though.

Where I spent my nights.

Gobble... The dog chased this guy up a tree one morning and it took him literally all day to figure out how to get down.  Birds are not intelligent.

The farm was home to a plethora of birds.  In this picture alone you see Chickens (1st place: dumbest animal in the world), Barbary/Muscovy Ducks (adorable and delicious), Runners (clowns) and Parličky or Guinea Fowl (sooooo loud want to kick).  

This guy... Imagine what a burlap sack full of cats would sound like... 

Česky Raj

Bohemian Paradise

Grilling czech sausages over an open fire.  

I have made FIRE!!!

Moo.

My addition to the collective knowledge of humanity:  It is extremely difficult to get a cow to take a selfie.  I'll take my nobel prize whenever you get a chance.

Justin, Michaela and Sarah sitting 'round the fire.  They are awesome and I had a blast being their guest for a few weeks.

Sophia hanging with the chickens.