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I am in transit again, taking a short, somewhat haphazard tour of Europe. First stop: Stockholm, where a friend I met in Tromsø was kind enough to host me. Having a guide makes it especially easy to slip into the dailiness of a place: grocery shopping, navigating public transit. But that doesn't entirely preclude the rite of wandering around and gawping at things. There's plenty I could say about Stockholm; it's old, lively, beautiful. I liked it. But I also liked the last day of my visit, when my friend and I took the commuter train out as far as we could, then walked further, on train tracks that hadn't seen a train in years, until we reached a quiet lake. We wished for a boat. We explored the woods and admired the handiwork of the local beaver. We sat on the ground and ate cheese and sausages. In short, we made a day of it, taking a small vacation from both our lives. And then we got back on the train, and slipped through the Swedish countryside and back into the capital city, as you do.