Malmö, Sweden is only a half-hour's train ride from the Copenhagen airport. It was surreal to be in another county as soon as we were in Sweden, and despite the fact that it was only 30 minutes away from Denmark, it felt, looked, and soundly like a wholly different place.
Malmö had its own inner contrasts, too. Outside of the train station, I looked to the left and saw rooflines of old buildings, and to the right and saw cranes and towers. As I walked through the town I enjoyed Malmö's early morning bustle, an.amalgamation of busy-ness and silence. Postal carriers were delivering the mail in bicycles. Delivery trucks were bringing supplies to the restaurants. It was active but quiet, and enthralling.
I got lost so many times in Malmö. I never knew where I was going or even where the sidewalk ended and the street began. I only found the old square and the King's Garden by accident. I remember a tiny old lady walking along Lilla Torg (the little square). She clutched a metal cane with a green dot on the handle, and her legs were tiny, all bone and sinew. She took short steps with a look of absolute determination on her face.
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