We have Stockholm Syndrome. Except it's not what you think. We're safe from kidnappers and their hypnotic love holds. No, what we're suffering from is actually Stockholm Marathon Syndrome--the affliction whereby yesterday's marathon blocked us from all things touristy for the past three days. Yes, it was inspiring to watch 21,000 runners pound through 26.2 miles, but shouldn't they stay in their hotel rooms with their feet propped up, resting up before and after the big race? For that matter, shouldn't their family and friends do the same in a show of support? No, instead they took every dinner reservation and museum ticket to be found. Our weekend was relegated to bar food and trolling the city streets. (Okay, it wasn't torture.) In fact, here's Megan stopping to smell the flowers.
Friday night, we sat at the bar at the beautiful Grand Hotel, where one of their cheapest bottles of wine and an appetizer ran us $175. The subway ticket machine wouldn't take our credit card, so we took a two-mile cab ride home to the tune of $30. We wanted to go to the famous Vassa Museum, which houses a reconstructed viking ship, but the line was around the block. Maybe next time. Same drill last night--bar food and a $200 bill. Of course, we were still hungry, so we gave up and filled up American style.
Stockholm is lovely (for those interested, a few more photos are available here), but we will not be fooled by her hold...we gotta get on that ship.
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