Stockholm, Sweden //
Clear air turbulence
Running riot beneath the streets of Stockholm
Date October 2010
Posted December 2011
Posted December 2011
The low whine quickly reached its crescendo, twin CFM International turbofans gunning to full power, the bumps of the tyres on the runway lights as we careered down the tarmac. Here we go again, I thought, looking out through the glass at the small terminal building as it flashed past, and then it all began to fall away. The nose of the aircraft was pointed up at the stars on this slowly-clearing night, and all of us onboard were going to Stockholm.
If you read the coverage of mine and siologen's jaunt round northern Europe then you'll know that I was itching to get back to this city. It's no surprise that I've been a further two times since the trip I'm writing about here, and that if I had a top 5 European cities then this one would feature somewhere near the top. Craftiness on the part of your esteemed author allowed procurement of plane tickets at zero cost, plus dsankteh was keen, and so we made it happen. Unfortunately for siologen afailure to get his dates right technical planning issue found its way between him and his attendance. Alas, he was missed so.
At Stockholm's central railway station I met local hard-hitter AC for the first time. Those of you who haven't had the privilege of meeting this guy could be fooled upon doing so into thinking that you'd just become acquainted with a quiet, good-mannered city-boy. Don't be fooled. In the preferred fashion, most of the best stuff to be uncovered under Stockholm never sees rendition on the Internet. So unless you've rolled through the subway with AC or flicked through the photo books in his lair... well, you're probably not getting the real deal.
Inside AC's top-secret hideout we cracked the beers (and not the 3% supermarket tripe either) and delved into a big bowl of chips. Apart from being a metro-busting graf-writing superhero, AC is also an excellent host. And so it was only once we'd taken our fill of food and alcohol that we pushed open the front door and re-entered the night. By October things are starting to get chill in Sweden, so it was with some relief that we hefted open a hatch somewhere in the suburbs and dropped into a warm and apparently bottomless rock-hewn shaft. AC flipped a switch and a warm glow enveloped the ladders below. We descended.
After perhaps 30 steel ladders we found terra firma. A dark passage to one side led towards a cool draft, and the scent of underground rapid transit infrastructure. Somewhere far-off there was the rumble of a distant train navigating its way through the network. This particular tunnel gave access to several lines on the system, single-track tunnels cutting through this central accessway. The running tunnels were dark, save for illumination provided by occasional blue and red lights. Care was needed, both for trains which could approach from either direction, and from the ever-present high-voltage third rails.
A second experience of the Tunnelbana followed the next day. At a supermarket dsankt and I bought up the necessary ingredients for the 'dirt sandwiches' we'd perfected in Eastern Europe earlier in the month. Specifically they consist of local bread products, pre-sliced cheese and a selection of hot sauces. Before settling down to craft these delights we hopped the barriers in plain sight of the ticket booth (apparently this is the most popular fare-evasion technique used in Stockholm) and took a train eastward. With daylight abound and little else to do we took a walk into the forest somewhere near the edge of the T-bana network, intent on finding the unfinished Kymlinge station.
This, eventually, we succeeded in doing. By now the light was fading fast - the fence proved little problem and preceeded a dash across the ballast and up onto the concrete platform that juts out of the hillside. Within the dark station cavity was found some half-hearted graffiti and no sign of life, and then somewhere convenient where we could sit and eat. Every few minutes a train would pass by in each direction, those on our side roaring along the tunnel before bursting out of the hillside and onto a long viaduct. The concrete structure of the stop isn't particularly pleasing to the eye, hence a lack of pictures here. But it was something to do between running through some live suburban rail tunnels back in the city and meeting AC for more deep-level subway fun.
Our nights entertainment began on a busy station concourse. Checking around one last time to make sure the staff droid in the booth wasn't watching, AC pushed a key quickly into the lock and turned. The door swung open and we breezed inside, quickly shutting the portal, as ever unsure whether or not we'd been seen. Preferring not to find out we quickly descended a flight of stairs, emerging in a concrete-lined cavity sat between two live lines. Here we waited for the next train to pass before darting out onto the track, running as fast we could after the tail-lights. Our route was downward, and this meant finding another door and another staircase. From here we would be able to reach two deeper levels of tunnel.
Deep-level tunnels are perhaps the most interesting of any network. They're the hardest to reach, hardest to leave, and so require the most effort to explore. And as we all know, the harder the graft, the tastier the success. Fall asleep in the lift or work those calves on the stairs - your choice. Here in these dark side passages and vents we ended up covered in that nasty black metro dust as we found entrance to the various T-Bana lines, running as they do at different depths and in different kinds of tunnel. Somehow we returned to the surface via another route, and I'm pretty sure that alcohol and pizza followed.
Our Stockholm escapades were rounded off that same nightwith an attempt at reaching a series of a interconnecting tunnel systems that would see the bar raised somewhat relative to the 'safe' subway running. We found entry into the first phase of this jaunt through a well-known air vent, but alas things weren't to go as planned. Onward passage was not possible at that time and we had to make do with another ferret around in the T-Bana. Eventually I would get back for 'that trip' (RIP), but it's a tale for another day, and there's just too much other stuff happening right now to spare any more time for story-writing.
Shouts to AC and dsankt for their parts in this. See you again, Sweden. ANTIBTDI.
If you read the coverage of mine and siologen's jaunt round northern Europe then you'll know that I was itching to get back to this city. It's no surprise that I've been a further two times since the trip I'm writing about here, and that if I had a top 5 European cities then this one would feature somewhere near the top. Craftiness on the part of your esteemed author allowed procurement of plane tickets at zero cost, plus dsankteh was keen, and so we made it happen. Unfortunately for siologen a
At Stockholm's central railway station I met local hard-hitter AC for the first time. Those of you who haven't had the privilege of meeting this guy could be fooled upon doing so into thinking that you'd just become acquainted with a quiet, good-mannered city-boy. Don't be fooled. In the preferred fashion, most of the best stuff to be uncovered under Stockholm never sees rendition on the Internet. So unless you've rolled through the subway with AC or flicked through the photo books in his lair... well, you're probably not getting the real deal.
Inside AC's top-secret hideout we cracked the beers (and not the 3% supermarket tripe either) and delved into a big bowl of chips. Apart from being a metro-busting graf-writing superhero, AC is also an excellent host. And so it was only once we'd taken our fill of food and alcohol that we pushed open the front door and re-entered the night. By October things are starting to get chill in Sweden, so it was with some relief that we hefted open a hatch somewhere in the suburbs and dropped into a warm and apparently bottomless rock-hewn shaft. AC flipped a switch and a warm glow enveloped the ladders below. We descended.
After perhaps 30 steel ladders we found terra firma. A dark passage to one side led towards a cool draft, and the scent of underground rapid transit infrastructure. Somewhere far-off there was the rumble of a distant train navigating its way through the network. This particular tunnel gave access to several lines on the system, single-track tunnels cutting through this central accessway. The running tunnels were dark, save for illumination provided by occasional blue and red lights. Care was needed, both for trains which could approach from either direction, and from the ever-present high-voltage third rails.
A second experience of the Tunnelbana followed the next day. At a supermarket dsankt and I bought up the necessary ingredients for the 'dirt sandwiches' we'd perfected in Eastern Europe earlier in the month. Specifically they consist of local bread products, pre-sliced cheese and a selection of hot sauces. Before settling down to craft these delights we hopped the barriers in plain sight of the ticket booth (apparently this is the most popular fare-evasion technique used in Stockholm) and took a train eastward. With daylight abound and little else to do we took a walk into the forest somewhere near the edge of the T-bana network, intent on finding the unfinished Kymlinge station.
This, eventually, we succeeded in doing. By now the light was fading fast - the fence proved little problem and preceeded a dash across the ballast and up onto the concrete platform that juts out of the hillside. Within the dark station cavity was found some half-hearted graffiti and no sign of life, and then somewhere convenient where we could sit and eat. Every few minutes a train would pass by in each direction, those on our side roaring along the tunnel before bursting out of the hillside and onto a long viaduct. The concrete structure of the stop isn't particularly pleasing to the eye, hence a lack of pictures here. But it was something to do between running through some live suburban rail tunnels back in the city and meeting AC for more deep-level subway fun.
Our nights entertainment began on a busy station concourse. Checking around one last time to make sure the staff droid in the booth wasn't watching, AC pushed a key quickly into the lock and turned. The door swung open and we breezed inside, quickly shutting the portal, as ever unsure whether or not we'd been seen. Preferring not to find out we quickly descended a flight of stairs, emerging in a concrete-lined cavity sat between two live lines. Here we waited for the next train to pass before darting out onto the track, running as fast we could after the tail-lights. Our route was downward, and this meant finding another door and another staircase. From here we would be able to reach two deeper levels of tunnel.
Deep-level tunnels are perhaps the most interesting of any network. They're the hardest to reach, hardest to leave, and so require the most effort to explore. And as we all know, the harder the graft, the tastier the success. Fall asleep in the lift or work those calves on the stairs - your choice. Here in these dark side passages and vents we ended up covered in that nasty black metro dust as we found entrance to the various T-Bana lines, running as they do at different depths and in different kinds of tunnel. Somehow we returned to the surface via another route, and I'm pretty sure that alcohol and pizza followed.
Our Stockholm escapades were rounded off that same nightwith an attempt at reaching a series of a interconnecting tunnel systems that would see the bar raised somewhat relative to the 'safe' subway running. We found entry into the first phase of this jaunt through a well-known air vent, but alas things weren't to go as planned. Onward passage was not possible at that time and we had to make do with another ferret around in the T-Bana. Eventually I would get back for 'that trip' (RIP), but it's a tale for another day, and there's just too much other stuff happening right now to spare any more time for story-writing.
Shouts to AC and dsankt for their parts in this. See you again, Sweden. ANTIBTDI.
