Fuelled by the desire to connect with my past, I recently embarked on a wide ranging ancestral pilgrimage. Stepping for the very first time, from the Øresund Ferry, onto Swedish soil at Helsingborg, the search for my inner Scandinavian had begun.
On the approach from the water, the great medieval tower, Kärnan, dominates the landscape, one of the very few reminders of the long history of this once important Port. Close by the magnificent nineteenth century Rathus, or Town Hall, youthful by comparison, marks the epicentre of city. The harbour, still working, but quieter these days, preserved with monuments of its former glory, oozes the charm of a bygone era. A progressive city, old and new sit side by side in an oddly appealing style that only Swedish architecture can achieve, however, there are still many glimpses to be had of the world my great Grandfather would have known.
My spine tingling, come find me moment, thank you very much Ancestry.com, had happened when research revealed the apartment building where great Grandfather had been born, sat on the very same block as the hotel I had already booked. And so, I spent hours walking the neighbourhood, but the feeling of belonging continued to evade me. I was still struggling to feel a connection to this wonderful land when the young man behind the desk at the hotel, realising the purpose of my visit, turned to me, smiled, and in beautifully accented English said ‘welcome home.'
And just like that, I was.
