If you have wondered why Rifftides chose to cover Sweden’s Ystad Jazz Festival for the second time, here is one reason—seen from my hotel window overlooking the Baltic Sea.
It’s summer in Scandinavia, glorious summer, when Swedes flock to beaches to soak in the sun that Nordic weather denies them nine months of the year. It has been unusually hot here in recent days, with temperatures as high as 37 degrees Celsius (about 99 degrees Farenheit). Shorts, swimming trunks, flip-flops, sandals and abbreviated upper-body wear are acceptable, even necessary, which can make for interesting sightseeing.
The trip to Europe from the west coast of the US is always long, loved only by those who relish jet lag. A delay in my departure from Seattle caused a missed Amsterdam-to-Copenhagen connection. What was scheduled as a 13-hour series of flights from Yakima, Washington, to Ystad metastasized into a 24-hour adventure that included a sprint with two bags the full length of the Amsterdam airport’s endless D concourse, the missed flight, four hours in line to arrange for another flight to Copenhagen and a train trip to Ystad that replaced the car ride erased by the late arrival. But, who’s complaining? The hot Swedish air is full of music. Our next installment will be a report on some of what I’ve heard so far. Please stay tuned.