A light snow began to fall, and once again, we were enveloped in blankets of white, surrounded by broad, lakes and endless miles of pine forest. The sky glowered, and an umbrella of black clouds hung above like a shroud above us. With each mile, the snow gathered force, and as beautiful as it was, driving became treacherous. Four hours later it was black as pitch as we wound along the Gulf of Finland and crossed the border back into Sweden

“Haparanda, ya!“ Said the elderly driver of the bus. “Haparanda!” and he waved them in. The four men were, like us, headed to the Finnish border. Why I couldn’t fathom, but they probably couldn’t fathom why a couple of Americans like us we’re on the same bus either.

Up and off to explore ... Located near the bottom of the country, Stockholm is Sweden's capital, financial, artistic and political center bustling with a million and a half souls across its small archipelago of 14 islands that sit clustered near Lake Märlaren a body of water that abuts the Baltic Sea. At one time the lake was part of the Baltic, but movements of Earth’s crust created a rock barrier that became so shallow by 1200 ships could no longer enter. The bay became a lake.

After departing home and then a Boston visit with our daughter Molly (see her cool artwork at MollyRoseCreative.com) and her partner Ben, our Boston red-eye via Delta brought us to Stockholm's Arlanda International Airport. There we rebooted our journey.