Hello from Stockholm

Everything is going smoothly so far. I’d pre-purchased my ticket for the Arlanda Express, which is a dedicated high-speed rail link that whisks you from the airport into Stockholm Central Station in just 18 minutes. It hits speeds of up to 200 km/h, but the best part for me was the accessibility; it offers level boarding from the platform, which makes life much easier. The airport wheelchair assistance was also excellent—the wheelchair assistant took me all the way to the platform.

Aside from a minor detour—there are two Radisson hotels next to Central Station and I naturally picked the wrong one first—it’s been a breeze. It’s cold, certainly, but hardly a blizzard. I’m actually still wearing my shorts. Tomorrow is forecast to be sunny.

The $50 Doctor

I’m flying with Norse Atlantic Airways, a relatively new low-cost carrier that has stepped into the gap left by other budget long-haul airlines. They operate a modern fleet of Boeing 787 Dreamliners, offering a “no-frills” experience where you pay a low base fare and then add on everything else—from meals to seat selection—as extra. I bought the ticket well aware of these limitations, but the price for a return trip between Bangkok and Stockholm was too good to pass up.

While boarding my flight in Bangkok, I overheard a classic budget airline exchange. “Could I get a seat in the exit row?” a woman asked the flight attendant. “That will be $50,” came the reply. “Even if the seat is free? And I’m a doctor,” she added, hoping for a professional courtesy. “That’s still $50,” came the reply.

“It’s half the price of flying with Thai Airways,” a man remarked to me as we boarded. He’s Swedish but has a Thai wife; they split their retirement years between both countries. At 70, he’s been retired for a decade after running a printing business. He was returning to Sweden to check on his house on an island in the archipelago. He mentioned he also helps out his older neighbours by “emptying out their shit buckets”—apparently a common logistical challenge for island dwellers.

Conversations and Cultural Clues

One thing about having an amputation is that it’s often a natural conversation starter. He noticed my Australian passport and asked what happened. Realising we could have a laugh, I gave him my usual lines: I sometimes tell people it was a shark, or that I lost it fighting as a soldier in the Middle East.

I’d estimate about half the passengers were Swedish. In the middle of winter, they flock to Thailand to escape the gloom. You can always spot the returning Swedes at Bangkok Airport—they’re the ones with the deep, two-week tans. I remember once seeing a woman take off her sunglasses to reveal stark white circles where her tan hadn’t reached.

The In-flight Experience

The in-flight menu is priced in US dollars. A ham and cheese toastie will set you back about $10.50, with small meals around $13.00. They also sell a lot of “travel tech” merchandise, like luggage trackers and Bluetooth connectors for headphones. Not that those were useful today—an email last night warned us the in-flight entertainment system was broken.

While the Swedish couple next to me were quite concerned, it didn’t bother me. I’d brought my Chromebook tablet, packed with about a dozen of my all-time favourite films for precisely this reason. I revisited some absolute classics like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Brokeback Mountain. There is something about the isolation of a long-haul flight that makes those heavy, emotional dramas hit even harder. I also have Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (fitting for a Stockholm arrival) ready to go.

I also started watching A Single Man, where Colin Firth plays an academic in the 1960s dealing with the hidden grief of losing his partner. I remember sobbing out loud the first time I saw it. Within fifteen minutes today, I started to tear up again, so I decided to save the rest for the flight home.

The crew were lovely—a truly international mix with a Swedish captain, an American customer service lead, and French-speaking cabin crew. I had one flight attendant speak to me in Swedish, and I was able to respond accordingly The plane felt modern and well-maintained, despite the tech glitch.

The flight from Bangkok to Stockholm takes roughly 12 hours and 40 minutes. We left the lunchtime heat of Thailand and touched down in mid-evening, sub-zero Stockholm.

Interestingly, the security officer seemed baffled as to why an Australian would be coming to Sweden at this time of year. #rollseyes

My Swedish friends also can’t understand why I’d visit now rather than in the height of summer. I understand their perspective, but for me, the snow and ice are the main draw. It’s been ten years since I last saw a proper winter. There are risks, of course—falling is a bigger concern now as an amputee—but the beauty of the landscape far outweighs the downsides.

My friends back home seem to be in a panic about the weather on my behalf, but I’m exactly where I want to be.