Most passengers are connecting from overnight flights originated in sun-kissed destinations in Southeast Asia and the cabin mood is light and quiet for most of the flight (bar a few farts), routing over the Black Sea before entering the busy jet ways of Europe, over extensive Poland and North to the cold Baltic Sea shores.

Despite our late arrival at almost nine at night, the sun shines as bright as a mid-afternoon day in the Gulf. We have landed in one of the Northernmost capitals in the world and the summer makes a strong statement about its presence.
Stockholm Arlanda Airport looks fairly modest. Its five terminals extending their arms over a ground of tall pine trees and pastures, an ultra-modern motorway linking it to the city through its Northern end.

I will always remember my first operating flight. The constant watching of my every move adding to the fatigue of a seven-hour flight and the relief of opening the hotel room door, shoes off. I devour a welcome KEX chocolate bar placed against the rounded glass table next to the large hotel room window and contemplate both the cozy five-star hotel room inside and the distant silhouettes of pointy towers outside. A refreshing shower later, two fellow crew members join me for dinner at the cafe just a hundred meters down the street, the sleek burgers served by a tall blond waitress sporting a flawless English.

In the morning, I explore the many islands in which the Swedish capital sits in. Bridges of all shapes and sizes link the archipelago in cobwebs of steel, stone and wood which point their prettiest faces to the Royal Palace, where the guards wearing blue suits await the change standing still in their positions, only engaging in motion when the fanfare roaring down the roads of the city centre triggers a series of synchronised movements to be performed daily.
Each island, which are better explored on foot, hides a treasure: Bechkolmen savours the estuary with its modest beaches, Gamla Stan preserves the Royal family within its shores and Riksdasthuset embraces the impressive Vasa, an original Swedish warship which sank in 1628 and, thanks to the freezing temperatures of the Baltic which preserved the timber over three centuries, was re-floated in 1961 in almost most of its integrity.