As you can see from the pictures from the flat, this day was no brighter than yesterday, drizzle or longer spells of rain were falling, so apologies for the quality of the pictures. As a matter of interest, the 2nd picture from the flat shows the “hottie”. It burns rubbish and wood waste and the heat is used to provide hot water and central heating for the homes of Eskilstuna, But, there were things to do, places to see, so no point worrying about the weather. First on the agenda for today was a visit to a ruined Viking fortress. It was hidden away in the Swedish countryside among the trees, and at first glance just looked like a pile of rocks, but on closer inspection one could make out what had been a circular structure which would have had a wooden palisade on the top. It was easy to imagine the lifestyle of those inhabiting this isolated place over 1000 years ago.
The next port of call was the small town of Strängnäs, a small town on a lake to the east of Eskilstuna. We had last visited here several years ago on a baking hot summers day, but today the grey, drizzly skies were in stark contrast to those past times. A Christmas fair was just opening up in the town square when we arrived, and lots of people were wandering around the town with bingo tickets in hand looking for special numbers in shop windows. After wandering around the town for quite a while, hunger and thirst were beginning to raise their heads, so we took refuge in a little café called Laura’s and ordered a sandwich and tea each. The girl behind the counter took our money and handed over some sandwiches and some cups for our tea, but where do we fill our cups with tea? After looking around for a while we returned to the counter to enquire about the whereabouts of the tea. It was only then that the girl told us that we should have asked for tea leaves to be put into our cups before leaving the counter! Such service! Still, the tea and the sandwich were very good.
On returning to the flat we indulged in a seasonal Swedish tradition, a glass or two of Glug and ginger biscuits. Glug is like a mulled wine, warmed and perfect for a winter’s evening. A tradition I could get used to.
For dinner that night we decided to return to the Bishop’s Arms to try their simple but wholesome menu. We hoped that the manager was having an “off night” the night before and that we would see a different side to him tonight. So 30 minutes later we were walking into the bar, we ordered some beers, found a table and looked at the menu. The manager was there, sat at a table with some of his staff, chatting with them as if they were best buddies. The food was ordered and duly arrived and it was very good. The beer was going down a treat too! But the manager was becoming too loud again, and irritating. A young member of staff came over to talk to us, having just realised we were British. He asked if we had enjoyed the meal and the beers and wondered if the atmosphere was close to that of a British pub. We gave him the thumbs up. He was apparently from Eskilstuna but had spent some time in Ireland before returning home. He was polite, interested in what we had to say and would make good managerial material. Not long after, the manager himself came over to conduct a similar conversation, but really, he still came across as a bit of a buffoon.
After a brisk walk back to the flat and a welcome cup of tea it was time for bed. Tomorrow should be an interesting day; we were going to Stockholm, the capital city of Sweden, a place I have visited many times.
|  | 
















|