We'll Always Have Gotland

Following our five day visit to the Swedish island of Gotland, we can now co-opt Bogart’s great line in the closing scene of Casablanca; “We’ll always have Gotland.” Gotland, which lies about 50 miles off the east coast of Sweden in the Baltic Sea, was for us a magical place, beginning with a 50 minute bus ride and a three hour cruise to get there. It invited us to be absorbed by its beauty, charm and history, reaching as far back as the Stone Age. Here, the Vikings are the new kids on the block.

Kerstin, Helen & Lars

The trip to Gotland came about from Helen’s friendship with Kerstin, whom she met in the gym facilities near our apartment. Kerstin (pronounced SHEARS tin), who was born and raised on Gotland, is a marvelous person in all ways imaginable. She has been married to Lars, who is also a marvelous individual in every way, for nearly 40 years. Together they made possible our Gotland odyssey as well as opening a window for us to better understand Swedish life.

For dessert one night we enjoyed a cake in honor of Lars’s name day. Who knew? Another day we were positively delighted with Kerstin’s and Lars’s rendition of Helan Gå, a traditional Swedish drinking song as we hoisted our glasses of Schnapps in a ritual toast customary when eating herring. As Lars noted, his father faithfully combined the consumption of Schnapps with herring. Some customs are just worth preserving. Another dinner conversation had us mimicking the opening tune to Bonanza, only to have Kerstin and Lars join in.  

Sitting Area in our Cottage

We slept in a small summer cottage adjacent to the larger cottage that Kerstin’s parents had left her.  The cottages are a one minute walk through wind-blown pine trees and sea grass to where the waters of the Baltic Sea lap against the shore.

With Lars at the wheel of their car, we toured the northern bays and inlets of Gotland.  We climbed among the limestone pillars left behind where water once covered what is now dry land.  

We toured only a handful of the 92 churches on the island and marveled at the endeavors of the island inhabitants in the 13^th century of raising structures to worship Jesus. Along the way we also admired some of the local handiwork of Kristen’s father, an international stone cutter.

We spent some time in Visby, a walled medieval city and UNESCO World Heritage site.  The old part of Visby, inside the original city walls, is a charming city of narrow streets and historic buildings.  Our visit had the added pleasure of coinciding with a weeklong medieval festival.  In the US we have enjoyed visiting a Renaissance Festival with its various reminders of far-off places in a distant time. 

In Visby the event may have replicated a distant time, but once upon a time, street jesters, selling woolen items and the roasting of whole lambs on open fires were local events.  Our American sensibilities just have a hard time associating the ground on which we walked with the footsteps of people who walked the same streets in the 1200’s. 

We enjoyed a Sunday service in Visby’s domkirka (cathedral) St. Maria, built in 1225.  The service was mostly in Swedish with a bit of Latin mixed in to commemorate the medieval festival in Visby.  Regardless of language, we considered the experience a gift of spiritual renewal. Amen and amen!