Friday, March 27, 2015

Moving to Minneberg

Alviks Båtklubb  |  Moving to Minneberg on afeathery*nest  |

We made it over the water from Vasastan to Minneberg and in less than a week we've got everything unpacked and (mostly) put away. The only things left to do are to hang our pictures and to wait for our media console, TV, and bed to arrive before we're 100% completely settled.

It's so strange to be in a less-urban environment, while still being in Stockholm. There's no cafè or boutiques nearby, no hustle and bustle, nowhere to pop out for a quick dinner in the neighborhood—everything is pretty much a 15-20 walk or bus ride away.

And the effect of less charming, so to say, surroundings is taking some getting used to, too, especially after living in beautiful Vasastan with all its turn-of-the-century architecture and number of people populating the streets. Our new area was built in the 80's—and it shows, and the sidewalks aren't quite as lively.

On the other hand, we have a spacious, yet cozy, layout that is more than enough for just two people (and more storage space than we know what to do with, seeing as it's twice as big as our home in NYC and in Hammarby Sjöstad—all for a few dollars more than we paid in rent last summer) and a pretty insane view from our apartment. I took down all the curtains just to have this unfettered view from every window possible:

Minneberg + Ulvsundasjön  |  Moving to Minneberg on afeathery*nest  |

Living in much more space than we've ever had before has its own growing pains, too, like actually being tired from having to walk all the way around to whatever room the other one is in to have a conversation (rather than yelling) and having to walk much farther then ever before to get something forgotten in a coat pocket by the front door and furnishing more empty space than we're used to (thank goodness we're fairly minimalist).

(And what a problem to have, right? It's one I never thought I'd have living in a city.)

But it just feels so enormously wonderful to have our own little nest again. To potter about adjusting the placement of a tulip, to wipe down the kitchen and set the espresso pot on the stove before going to bed. To begin house-ly rituals, like whoever arrives home first lighting the lanterns by the front door so the last one to arrive home has a warm little glow awaiting them. To do all those odd things you do when you're at home and alone with your own, well-known things.

The last few days have been a fast-paced blur of trips to IKEA, home improvement stores, home goods stores, and massive grocery stores to get things in order as quickly as possible (based on my demands), which included more than the normal things you'd do to settle into a new place, at least in the U.S. (like putting in ceiling light fixtures!).

We also did all of that and unpacked while our apartment was being spackled and painted, which was a must, as there was no way we could feel completely at home with all the many holes left behind by previous renters and a lime green bedroom and pea soup green kitchen. It's just not us.

Now though, we've put our stamp on things with white walls, fresh flowers and potted orchids everywhere, our palette of creams, grays, espresso and black, and lots of bare space with candle light reflecting off the walls and windows at night.

Minneberg + Ulvsundasjön view to Kungsholmen  |  Moving to Minneberg on afeathery*nest  |
It also feels completely insane to not hear one single noise from the outside world when we're home—no construction craziness like in NYC or early-morning school festivals like in Hammarby Sjöstad. Just silence. And the occasional seagull or boat toot (which I'm sure will increase as the weather warms up, but is a most welcome soundtrack). The tranquility is transportive—it feels just like that desired mixture of city and "country" I mentioned before.

Across the water I can see the buildings that I photographed so much over the last few months and the places I used to walk (crazily, the clump of white buildings on the left in the first and third pictures of that link are where we live now), which helps our new home to feel familiar and not quite so isolated.

And right outside our building's back door—a quick elevator ride down with a mug of coffee—we can walk along the waterfront on this side of the lake, which is dotted with picnic benches, bathing piers, and barbecue spots, and there's a forest a few minutes' walk away that I've yet to explore, so slowly, slowly we're making our mark on our new neighborhood and before long the surroundings will feel just as familiar to us as the relics of our former American lives that we finally unpacked (after saying goodbye to them more than a year ago).

What I'm saying is—no matter the adjustment period, it feels wonderful to be home again.

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One year ago: How today looks & Week 12
Two years ago: An extension & Banished from the bedroom & Mid-week treat

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