Day 305: Gamla Stan (Old Town), Stockholm

Weather Update: Sunny with a cold wind, high 19°C

Setting the Scene

Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, spreads across 14 islands connected by more than 50 bridges on the Baltic Sea archipelago. The city is nearly 773 years old, founded in 1252, and today its metro population reaches over 2.4 million.

Gamla Stan, the medieval Old Town, is where Stockholm began. Its cobblestone streets and ochre-coloured buildings are home to treasures like the 13th-century Storkyrkan Cathedral, the Kungliga Slottet Royal Palace, and the Nobel Museum. Ferries and sightseeing boats weave between the islands, linking the historic heart with the modern sprawl beyond.

From here, my day began.

Morning Start & Getting Around

I slept reasonably well last night, breakfasting on leftovers—turkey slices and cheese—while chatting with other hostel guests. After sorting out my last phone number, I was good to go.

Stockholm transport has proven pricey. Last night, I rode a tram for two stops and paid 43 SEK (€3.39 / NZD 7.74) for a short 500-metre trip. Today, I tried a scooter: four kilometres for €2.10 (NZD 4.14). Scooters are now my transport of choice.

Crossing the bridge into Gamla Stan, the medieval heart of Stockholm, I arrived at Stortorget Square, its cobbled stones and ochre buildings leading me straight toward the crowd gathering at the Royal Palace.

At the Royal Palace

The palace forecourt was packed for the Changing of the Guard. Many strained for a view, but I managed to perch on the corner of a column for a partial vantage point, though a sentry box blocked some of the action.

The Kungliga Slottet (Royal Palace) is more than a ceremonial stage—it is the official residence of the Swedish monarch. After the medieval Tre Kronor Castle was destroyed in a fire in 1697, the palace was rebuilt in the 18th century by architect Nicodemus Tessin the Younger. Its baroque façade hides over 600 rooms, making it one of the largest royal residences in Europe.

The guard ceremony itself is a tradition dating back to the early 1500s. Brass bands, crisp uniforms, and marching soldiers maintain a centuries-old ritual that still marks the rhythm of royal life today. Watching it with the crowd, you sense how history and pageantry continue to breathe life into this space.

A Pause to Recharge

My phone battery began to falter—I had left my charger behind, assuming it was full. I ducked into Rodolfino, an Italian restaurant open since 1972, where I ordered a beer and found a power socket.

Beer in Stockholm isn’t cheap: 110 SEK (€10 / NZD 19.80). Pizza runs 165–210 SEK. For something more affordable, I’d recommend Wirstroms Pub in Old Town, where a beer is 75 SEK. It’s also here in Sweden that I first encountered automatic tipping on card terminals—5 to 20 per cent is added, though you can opt out, but ask for it.. After 35 countries on this trip, this was a first for me. Leaving for the Cathedral, I stumbled upon a film set of a period piece set in Sweden during the Napoleonic Wars.

Stockholm Cathedral (Storkyrkan)

Once recharged, I made my way to Storkyrkan, Stockholm’s Cathedral. Admission was 95 SEK (€8.69 / NZD 17.12), but I was fortunate—entry was waived as I came to pray. In many churches, you’re charged even for that.

Storkyrkan is the oldest church in Gamla Stan, founded in the 13th century. Its brick Gothic interior has hosted royal weddings, coronations, and sermons for more than 700 years. Inside, I stood in awe before St. George and the Dragon, a monumental wooden sculpture carved in 1489 by Bernt Notke. The knight and beast embody Sweden’s victory over Denmark—a blend of myth and national pride.

Another treasure is the silver altarpiece, donated in the 1600s by Queen Hedwig Eleonora, glittering in candlelight. More recently, the cathedral became known worldwide when Crown Princess Victoria married here in 2010.

Standing beneath its vaulted arches, I felt dwarfed by history. The grandeur, the stained glass, the sheer weight of centuries was overwhelming—words fall short, but I hope my photos capture something of what I carried in my heart.

Evening Return

When I passed the Royal Palace again, the crowds were gone. Where earlier there had been brass bands and ceremony, now silence reigned—you could hear a pin drop. The narrow streets of Gamla Stan, glowing ochre in the evening light, seemed to belong entirely to me.

Later, I grabbed a VOI scooter and zipped back to the hostel. Dinner was a simple tuna pasta, shared alongside easy conversation with fellow travellers.

It was a good day—full of history, ceremony, and quiet moments of awe. Tomorrow remains undecided, but Stockholm has already left its mark