Visby, Gotland - Day Three

I made the most of the last few hours in Visby, as we were flying home again after lunch. I steered towards the one part of town I hadn´t yet seen, the modern harbour.

What a sight, eh? Two large cruise ships, and from the mass of chatting people coming towards me as I walked, I gather they were full of American cruise tourists. I hope they were happy with their day in Visby. Must be among the best things the Baltic has to offer. (I confidently say this now, not having been to Tallinn, St Petersburg, or... well.)

Chicory, a plant that was pointed out for me by another travelling companion on our way from the airport. I only knew this from literature before, as it was used as a surrogate for coffee during Bad Times.

It´s such a pretty thing, don´t you think?

50´s nostalgia, a Swedish hotdog stand.

Kids, doing justice to art.

The old Customs Office.

The ferry to the mainland.

The sight-seeing train, full of Americans, whose enthusiasm can be heard from afar.

Former prison, now hostel. I like the way they kept the barbed wire on the wall.

A ship store and a what - brig? I haven´t a clue, but it´s pretty.

What? Scots? University students, that´s my guess.

Antique knick-knacks. Lucky for me, I had no cash.

An old maltfactory is now the seat of the University.

The Almedalen Library. In retrospect, I wish I had explored the interior.

In Swedish politics, The Almedalen Week is an important happening every year. It started when high profile social democrat Olof Palme made speeches here every summer. Around that tradition, now all parties come here and organize seminars and there is a lot of lobbying going on.

It was nice to see it for real, as images from this place is all over the news every year. It´s a great opportunity for polititians to get points across, as nothing much usually happens in the media during the summer weeks.

Detail from the Olof Palme memorial monument.

The Almedalen Pond, in front of the Almedalen Hotel.

Oyster catchers on the lawn.

And let me finish with another picture of a couple of grey pears. Really, fruit trees make me so deliriously happy, they remind me of childhood summers and there is no such thing in Lapland, where we live, unless perhaps a small, sour, vulnerable apple tree by a protective housewall somewhere. An abundance of juicy fruit, that might persuade me to buy a cottage in Småland or somewhere when we are old and retired!

Bye, bye, Visby!

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