As I write this I am on a night train home from Stockholm to Gothenburg after a big business meeting. Shortly after we pulled out of the station, but after tickets were checked, I went up to the next car to use the washroom.
I've taken the train between cities a few times now, so I am starting to get a feel for the rules of first class on the train. There is a small snack and drink station free to the first class passengers.
So as I returned to my seat the conductor spotted me helping myself to a tea. I don't look like the other business commuters, so he politely began asking me something in Swedish. I apologized for not speaking Swedish, to which he, a tall broad man in his 40's with perfectly Swedish-blond hair, very politely switched to English and continued on.
He was, of course, asking me if I sat in the first class car, and I assured him I sat in seat number 7. He didn't ask for proof, but rather took me at my word. He then explained that in first class I was welcome to have fruits and tea or coffee, and there are magazines between the cars. Turning abruptly he leaned into his staff room grabbed something colourful, turned back and thrust it toward me with a wide and welcoming smile; a Plopp chocolate bar.
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| Isn't Sweden crazy?! ;) |
No reason was given, and there are never sweets on the snack bar in first class. He simply felt like grabbing one of the staff snacks for me cause it was a nice thing to do.
Even I, as a Canadian, am unaccustomed to this sort of genuinely pleasant sort of happiness from complete strangers, especially people doing their job. But it really is why I find it so charming here. So many people are actually happy with their day to day lives.
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