A midsummer night’s dream

Until a few weeks ago, the only association "midsummer" had for me was the Shakespeare play. Now, having spent midsummer in Sweden, I see it in a completely different light — "light" being the operative word, because in much of Sweden it hardly gets dark at this time of year. This is in stark contrast to the long periods of darkness in the winter. So maybe it is no surprise that midsummer is such a big celebration. It reminded me of how many cultural differences are formed by the environment in which we live, despite all the standardization brought about by global business.

I had already got a positive impression of the Swedes' ability to celebrate when I arrived in Stockholm the day after the royal wedding (Daniel and Victoria). At the ticket counter at Stockholm’s central station, we were presented with boxes of fruity chocolates especially made for the occasion. We were later given another box by two rail staff who chased after us as we got off the train, saying, "We didn’t know you were going to leave us so soon, here are your chocolates."

Stockholm was quiet, as many people had left for the countryside or their holiday homes on the islands of the archipelago. My colleague and I decided to join in the midsummer's eve celebrations on 25 June in the Skansen park, a short ferry ride from the centre of town. We soon discovered that we were not the only ones to have this idea; in fact the queues to get in were so long that we decided to have lunch first in a nearby restaurant, where we enjoyed a delicious traditional meal of herring, mashed potato and lingonberries (a bit like the cranberries which the British traditionally eat with turkey at Christmas).

A midsummer night's dream

It was all a refreshingly peaceful and non-commercial celebration of nature, light and diversity centred around friends and family. For me, it was like a dream come true.

Here we go round the lingonberry bush...