by “Are you excited about the Svampen?” I asked eagerly, for the 17th time, as our plane taxied for take-off at Gatwick. My boyfriend smiled weakly, again. “Yes, dear.”
Before I was asked to visit the Swedish city of Orebro to assess its underrated weekend break credentials, I was unaware (like most British travellers, and, I’d bet, a fair number of Swedes) that it’s there. Full of enthusiasm, I had enthusiastically googled what Sweden’s eighth largest city was up to (no cool Scandi! fairy-tale castles! Nordic folklore!), and was presented with… the Svampen (literally The Mushroom), a big, but-not-big-enough-to-be-really-thrilling water tower. And apparently not much else. My heart sank.
But as the weekend of our discovery approached, I managed, little by little, to get excited about the Svampen. The eighth largest city can’t all be jewellers, and if this was Orebro’s best attraction, by God we were going to be enthusiastic about it.
So we flew to Stockholm, where we stopped to meet friends from Sweden for a quick drink, and asked if they had ever been to Orebro (pronounced “uhh-ruh-broo”, they explained gently, not as we were). saying).
“Yes,” came the reply, as they looked at us politely disguised from Sweden. “It’s a university town – we used to go there to get drunk,” said one friend. “They’re basically students and old people, and there’s not much in between,” said another. “You usually live there if you haven’t left yet, or if you came back … at the end.”
So, student bars and retirement complexes: sort of Bournemouth without the seafront?
With some trepidation, we left Stockholm and headed two hours west by train, finally pulling into Orebro central station at around 9pm. It was very dark, but then it was already very dark several hours before, at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, when we landed in Stockholm. It is not darkness, not a charming dusk, but a pitch black, middle of the night, long range, which felt very big for this side of the Arctic circle at the beginning of November.
But it wasn’t just dark: it was also raining, a particularly heavy downpour of icy wet rain. As we made our way through entire closed, quiet streets, with cozy Swedish chains (Ahlens department store, Burgers Bastard, Pressbyran convenience stores), down-on-heels Thai massage parlors and sad modern apartment blocks – we started destiny. second thoughts, wondering if even a visit to the Svampen could save our spirits.
In fairness, a brief look at the city’s history puts its modern appearance into perspective. Located halfway between Stockholm and Gothenburg, and on a large river, Orebro has been a commercial hub since the 13th century. Having destroyed much of its center in 1854, it seems that he finally resigned to his lot as a place destined for practicality, and decided not to bother with aesthetics too much.
Okay. A similar approach makes cities much less attractive than this, after all. Look at Milton Keynes.
However, surrounded by frigid fog and smooth concrete facades, things looked bleak. And then, we went to Jarntorget, one of the three main squares of the city, and suddenly everywhere was lit up with tiny pubs where musicians in plaid shirts played lively tunes on the double bass, and the types of small home restaurants in which the Hamptons were odd-. Chic hurricane lanterns and whimsical artwork complement gently worn edges and hearty food. Everywhere, rosy-cheeked students and groups of lively pensioners carried on without the least bit of friction.
Expecting that to be the case all along, we strolled across the Svartan – the river that divides the city – and found (mostly) more of the same, alongside two an antique shop and a shop that sells handmade pipes, as well as two karaoke bars, three small clubs guarded by neon-clad bouncers, and two sports bars. It was Friday night, and students will be students, after all.
It was then that Orebro began to make sense. When they have to cater to two extremes at the same time – students who want their fun in music and cheap beer and burgers, and pensioners who want some of that too, but with a nice refined edge and a wine list reasonable – it seems he found a great choice. medium. And at a price to match: dinner for two, with drinks, barely set us back £60 – a Scandi rarity.
The next day, a crisp, blue-skied winter’s day misted up, and suddenly there was a magnificent curved Swedish Renaissance castle, hidden near our hotel in last night’s fog.
We spent the day exploring, discovering that – with just under 150,000 residents and a city center you can cross on foot in less than 20 minutes – Orebro is as intimate as it is casual. By mid-afternoon, we visited the castle’s neat little museum, state rooms and an excellent photo exhibition on the upper floors (orebroslott.se/ga); the Slottsparken, a fine park from the 1770s; two insignificant churches; a long, wide high street lined with smart homeware shops and even more chains (Specsavers here, Burger King there); and Wadkoping, a charming open-air museum that shows the beautiful (pre-fire) Orebro of yesteryear.
By 2pm, we had finished the city, for the most part – apart from Svampen. We walked half an hour north to the edge of town, past huge corporate warehouses, retirement condos with striped wings, and through a sprawling swamp that gave way to a sweet little neighborhood of red and yellow houses with wraparound porches and gambrel roofs. .
Then it was, sprouting from a grassy mound and stretching sky in glory, an alien mushroom. And at the top, a tiny restaurant with views of the city and nature reserve to the east, as well as a bar, and a draft beer pump in the shape of – what else? – a spongebob.
Here, in beer-swilling miniatures, the beauty went beyond the usual writ large city break staples – Orebro is (almost) everything that’s beautiful about Stockholm, but on a smaller, friendlier, smaller scale need to be cool. . When Stockholm asks for approval, Orebro is comfortable in its own skin: proudly average. It may not have the palaces or state of some of its peers, but it doesn’t take itself so seriously – and, frankly, what city wouldn’t benefit from a dose of that?
Fundamentals
Ryanair (ryanair.com), Norwegian (norwegian.com), SAS (flysas.com) and British Airways (ba.com) fly direct from London to Stockholm, with return fares starting at £29. From there, take the Arlanda Express into the city (£31 return), then the train on to Orebro, which takes just shy of two hours and costs from £41 return (omio.com).
Gemma Knight was a guest at the Clarion Collection Hotel Borgen (00 46 1920 5000; strawberryhotels.com), a dramatic 19th-century building in the heart of the city overlooking the river Svartan, with double rooms from £86 per night, including breakfast, fika (coffee and cake) and dinner (excluding drinks).
For more information, see visitweden.com or extra.orebro.se
