Stockholm: My 14-Island Archipelago Masterpiece

The approach into Stockholm is worth waking early for — we sail through an archipelago of some 24,000 islands stretching nearly 80 kilometers, a breathtaking tapestry of rocky outcrops and wooden summer cottages tucked among the pines. I stand at the rail with my coffee, watching the ship thread between forested islets as the morning sun catches the water, and I'm reminded why they call this the "Venice of the North." This city, built on 14 islands connected by 57 bridges, was founded in 1252 by Birger Jarl, and from the moment you arrive by sea, you understand why this location — this fortress of water and stone — became the heart of a kingdom.

My perfect day: off the ship early and straight into Gamla Stan, the medieval heart of Stockholm that has stood since the 13th century. I arrive while the cobblestone alleys are still quiet and wander the narrow lanes past beautifully painted houses in ochre and rust, squeeze through Mårten Trotzigs Gränd (barely 90 centimeters wide), and find a corner table at Chokladkoppen for fika — coffee and a cinnamon bun warm from the oven. The Royal Palace sits proudly in Gamla Stan's heart, a grand 18th-century Baroque masterpiece that rose from the ashes after the old Tre Kronor palace burned down. If you time it right, you can tour the state apartments, and the changing of the guard at noon draws quite a crowd.

Then I take the Djurgårdsfärjan ferry from Gamla Stan across to Djurgården island — surprisingly calm and green despite being in the city center — where the Vasa Museum stands as one of the world's most extraordinary maritime treasures. The Vasa was built between 1626 and 1628 to be the pride of the Swedish navy: a 40-meter warship bristling with 64 cannons on two gun decks, her hull carved with hundreds of gilded warriors and lions. But she was too top-heavy, and on August 10, 1628, she set sail on her maiden voyage before thousands of onlookers. She managed just 1,300 meters — barely beyond the harbor — before a light breeze caught her sails. She heeled over, water poured through the open gun ports, and she sank in less than an hour, taking 30 souls with her.

For 333 years she lay in the cold, dark Baltic mud, perfectly preserved by the brackish water. Then in 1961, Sweden raised her — timber by timber, warrior by warrior — and built a cathedral to house her. Today the Vasa rises three stories inside the museum with 98% of her original wood intact, and more than 45 million people have stood where I stand now, gazing up at those towering masts and carved wooden warriors. It's the only preserved 17th-century ship in the world, and every single time I visit, I'm struck silent by the wonder of it: a 400-year-old ghost brought back to life, a monument to both human ambition and the sea's humbling power.

Just a short walk away on the same island, ABBA The Museum offers interactive 70s fun (I always record my own version of "Dancing Queen" in the sound booth). Lunch is meatballs with lingonberries or a proper Swedish herring platter. I spend the afternoon exploring Skansen's open-air historical village or catching a ride at Gröna Lund amusement park before the sunset ferry back through the bridges, watching the city light up in gold as the sun dips below the islands.