We arrived in Stockholm last Sunday around 1 am, cleared customs, and joined the taxi line with all of the other late arrivals. After about 30 minutes of waiting, we were all cold, tired, and a little disoriented, but we had finally reached the front of the line.
In most places, in the USA and otherwise, we’ve had to be assertive to convince taxi drivers to wait while we install our car seat or vest. “It’s not that far,” they say, trying to wave off our concerns. (Leaving a door open is a good way to deter the taxi drivers from leaving before we’ve finished.) Here, it was the opposite. The driver glanced at our travel vest, shook his head, and said, “not in Sweden.”
So, we returned to waiting. The people at the taxi stand were extremely nice and let us wait inside while they asked every arriving cab until they found one with a car seat. Still, by the time we stumbled into our new home, it was 3 am and we were exhausted.
Now, one week later, we are caught up on our sleep and pretty much in love with Stockholm. On our first evening here, family friends gave us a tour of Södermalm, which seems like the perfect neighborhood for us: cozy-urban with lots of small shops, restaurants, and cafes. We have not yet had a mediocre meal, and the coffee is as good as the California Bay Area. (This is a declaration that I don’t make lightly.) People are friendly. There are playgrounds and activities for kids everywhere. Out of all the places we’ve stayed in the past seven months, Stockholm (and Södermalm in particular) has the mostly quickly and easily felt like home.