Nya Älvsborgs Fästning

If you read this morning’s post, you know that my scheduled activity for midday today, a two-and-a-half-hour lunch cruise through the Gothenburg archipelago, was cancelled by the company that runs it.

Instead, staying with a nautical theme, I booked ferry rides to and from Nya Älvsborgs Fästning, which sits on a small island. The ride was 45 minutes each way.

“Nya Älvsborgs Fästning” translates to “New Älvsborg Fortress” in English.

“New“ is a relative term. The fortress is not new in the sense of, say, “baby needs a new pair of shoes.”

In this case, “new” means, in the course of human history, there was something of the same name, but without the “New,” that came before it.

Nya Älvsborgs Fästning replaced the then rundown Älvsborgs castle in 1660.

So, if I have my timelines right, when Nya Älvsborgs Fästning was being built in Sweden, in those European countries where the Renaissance was a big deal (not Sweden, to the best of my knowledge), the Renaissance was winding down, and people could finally stop painting and sculpting. Maybe some of them moved to Sweden after losing their Renaissance art gigs and started designing fortresses instead. Probably not, though.

In 1717 and 1719, the Danes attacked Nya Älvsborgs Fästning, but the fortress was never captured.

The Journey to Nya Älvsborgs Fästning

But let’s pause talking about the fortress for a moment and talk about the ferry ride over. After all, many people say, “It’s not the destination; it’s the journey.” That’s usually attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Many of the people who say that are fools, but I want to humour them because some fools can turn violent if you don’t indulge them.

There’s some dispute as to whether Emerson actually said it. But whether he did or not, many people repeat, “It’s not the destination; it’s the journey.”

So, let’s talk about the journey.

The ferry had four rows of seats that ran the length of the boat. Some of those seats were chairs; some were benches. One row against each side of the boat faced in. The other two rows faced the outer rows.

There were also two very short benches in the stern of the boat, along with some standing room there. In addition, there was some standing room at the bow of the boat. On the way to Nya Älvsborgs Fästning, I spent most of my time standing in the bow.

I’m terrible at estimating these things, so I could be way off, but I think that for the boat to hold more than 100 people, a shoehorn would have to be involved, and the regulators who determine maximum ship capacities would have to be bribed.

During the voyage, a recording playing over the speaker system gave a running commentary in Swedish and English about the history of Gothenburg (both maritime and land-based), described some of the sights we passed, and told much of the history of Nya Älvsborgs Fästning.

I’m about to amaze myself. In this morning’s post, when I spoke of Feskekôrka (“The Fish Church”), a fish market, I suggested it was small and quite sterile. But I said that I heard something about it this afternoon, and I’d try to remember to post it here.

I remembered! (Somebody, please tell the Canadian Longitudinal Study on Aging. I participate in it. Once every couple of years, they call me up and administer a memory test and ask a whole lot of other questions. After seeing the results of those tests, I think they’d be amazed that I remembered.)

The commentary mentioned Feskekôrka. It said that there are major fish auctions held there. The auctions are generally just for the people participating in the auction (and, I imagine, the fish), but you can get an invite to it. (The commentary didn’t say how.)

There’s no way the building I was in was big enough to hold a major fish auction without risking squishing the fish, the auctioneer(s), and the buyers and sellers. So, I guess that one or more of the nondescript buildings in the area might be part of the Feskekôrka. Although the only sign I saw saying Feskekôrka was on the building I went into. Plus, the picture of Feskekôrka in my guidebook was of the interior of the building I was in. So, I don’t know. It’s only a guess on my part.

At Nya Älvsborgs Fästning

When the ferry docked and I disembarked, I could hear drumming coming from inside Nya Älvsborgs Fästning. I walked sprightly into the fortress in time to watch some people dressed in old red military uniforms marching to the drumbeat from the inner compound to the outer compound of the fort.

For some unknown reason, I was exceptionally thirsty at that point, so I headed to the cafe (what 1660 fortress doesn’t have a cafe) to buy a bottle of water. When I did, I noticed some people wearing old blue or grey (some of each) military uniforms milling about not far from the cafe. They had been there the whole time, but I’d been distracted by the drumming and the brighter red coats.

All of the people in military uniforms—red, blue, and grey—wore three-corner hats, with pinched sides between the corners.

When I came out of the cafe with my water, I spied a printed sign with Swedish and English taped to the door. It listed events that were happening throughout the day. Most had occurred before I arrived at Nya Älvsborgs Fästning. But one, “INFANTRY ASSAULT ON THE HORNWORK. Enemy infantry attempts to take the fortress on the outer courtyard (Hornwork),” was scheduled to take place about five minutes after I read the sign.

Either the visitors had seen this show before, or they understood what was being said solely in Swedish on the speaker system, and it gave them instructions. Everyone who was in the inner compound walked to the outer compound and, from there, climbed up to the top of the grass-topped ramparts to look down on the outer compound. I followed them.

With visitors all up there, the battle began. The redcoats were already in the outer compound. The grey and blue coats started advancing from the inner to the outer compound. Then they started shooting at each other with muskets and cannons. The weapons made loud bangs when fired, and smoke billowed out after every shot. I assume they were using blanks.

Initially, the blue and grey coats fired from a ducking stance behind a hill. Eventually, they rose and advanced on the redcoats. A few of the redcoats went down, presumably dead.

Then it ended. The dead people rose again (hallelujah!), and they all formed a line, red, grey, and blue uniformed soldiers all in a single row. They doffed their hats to the applause of the assembled crowd. Then the two sides did some separate precision marching. And that was that.

Oh, throughout the battle, there was a guy dressed in an old greyish military uniform in keeping with all of the others. He didn’t hold a musket or man a cannon. He stood off to the side, pointing the camera of a thoroughly modern smartphone, presumably recording the action.

I spent an hour and a half at Nya Älvsborgs Fästning. That was the shortest time I could have spent there if I was going to spend any time there at all. The ferry took 45 minutes to head out. It took 45 minutes to return. Then it repeated the cycle. I got on the ferry when it came back.

When I bought my ticket, I didn’t see any way to buy a one-way ticket. I had to choose both an outbound and return time before it would let me buy a ticket at all. However, about a half-hour before I left, I saw a boat from another company dock, let people off, take on people, and head out again. I didn’t know about the other company, and I don’t know if there was any way to buy an outbound ticket on one and a return ticket on the other. I don’t think so. On the other hand, despite being emailed two separate tickets—outbound and return—they didn’t check the return tickets, only the outbound. If the other company did the same, maybe I could have snuck onto their boat. Then again, I don’t know where they dock in the city.

I mention this because an hour would have been enough there. It’s a small fortress, and after the battle (I don’t know how often they do that, so if you go, don’t count on it happening when you do), I was just killing time in the fortress.

Their website says they offer guided tours. I didn’t see anything suggesting that onsite.

Nevertheless, while I might have preferred that it had been shorter, all in all, I very much enjoyed it.

Aside

Preaching, Part II

In the entry I posted about the afternoon when I arrived in Gothenburg, I included an aside about a preacher who droned on loudly about God, Jesus, sin, and other religious matters in the public square in front of the central train station. I was surprised because, despite being in Sweden, he preached entirely in English.

Today, as I walked back to my hotel after the trip to Nya Älvsborgs Fästning, I passed another square only about two or three blocks from the square in front of the train station. There was another preacher there.

I compared the picture I took a couple of days ago to the one today. They were definitely different people.

And today the guy preached entirely in Swedish, not English. At least, I think it was Swedish. I don’t speak Swedish. For all I know, it could have been Swahili.

The English preacher I saw the other day had a compatriot beside him holding up a sign, in English, quoting scripture.

Today, the guy had two compatriots holding signs. One guy held a sign that was in Swedish (I think). The other guy’s sign was in English.

I know the guy today was preaching rather than, say, doing a recital of Peter Pan, because of the English sign telling me to repent my sins, the tone of his voice, and the fact that “Jesus” was sprinkled liberally in his oration. (Although, come to think of it, he pronounced it like, “Hey, Zeus!” So maybe it wasn’t Christianity he was preaching.)

However, the setup remained the same. The guys on both days had two phone cameras mounted on tripods facing directly at them, presumably recording the preaching.

Weird, I tell ya. Weird.