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National Geographic
10 hours ago
- National Geographic
What it's like to celebrate midsummer in Sweden
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). As my Swedish army bike rattles down the last hill, I place a hand on the basket to secure my Midsummer contributions: two king-size sausage rolls and a green bean and orange salad. The wide-open fields of southern Sweden's fertile Söderslätt plain, yellow with rapeseed flowers, stretch out to my right, while to my left, the Baltic Sea has just slipped out of sight, having been there for most of my 20-minute ride from the station. When I turn into the gravel drive, Malin and Christian's century-old brick villa, Källbacken, meaning 'hill with a spring', is already clattering with preparations. Malin and her seven-year-old daughter Edith have been out picking the flowers and greenery that will decorate the midsommarstång, or maypole, which they've laid out neatly on a table. I place my sausage rolls alongside and am immediately marshalled into scrubbing potatoes. For Malin and Christian, new potatoes, dug up only days before from the patch at the bottom of their garden, are central to the feast. 'Unlike Easter and Christmas, you don't normally have hot food at Midsummer: it's about potatoes, and herring,' Malin says. The preparations began months ago. 'We actually start preparing for Midsummer in February," she explains, describing the family's annual trip to buy early-maturing Swift potatoes, which then stand, packed in egg cartons, in the barn for three months before being planted in early May. It feels a fitting ritual ahead of this festival, which originated back when Sweden was an agrarian society. Midsummer celebrations not only marked the longest day of the year but welcomed in a new season of fertility. Many Swedes still head to the countryside to celebrate. Although this is my tenth Midsummer in Sweden, the celebrations I've been to have been low-key affairs eschewing tradition: a barbecue, games, but no maypole. Malin and Christian, however, go all in. As well as the potatoes, the couple provide home-grown chives, pickled herring, Christian's home-brewed IPA, and a bottle or two of snaps or akvavit, the Swedish spirit used for toasts and to accompany singing. This celebration is unusual, though, for the lack of heavy drinking – because there are many babies and small children present. Midsummer, more than Christmas or New Year's Eve, is when Swedes really let loose, taking full advantage of daylight that lasts until close to midnight, and singing and dancing until sunrise. Midsummer is when Swedes let loose, taking advantage of daylight that lasts until close to midnight, singing and dancing until sunrise. Photograph by Getty, Fredrik Nyman In previous years, Malin made her own pickled herring, but this year there are five varieties supplied by Abba (the fish-canning giant, rather than the sequin-clad Seventies four-piece), and she's also made gubbröra, meaning 'old bloke's mix'. It's a salty spread combining chopped, soused and spiced sprats, hard-boiled eggs, mayonnaise and dill. As I'm scrubbing potatoes, more people start to arrive and, as with every Midsummer I've ever been to, it's a mix of Swedes and internationals, the language bouncing between English and Swedish. By the time I come outside, the table is crammed with dishes. Magnus, a childhood friend of Christian's, has brought a silltårta, a traditional cake made of herring and creme fraiche thickened with gelatine and served on a butter and breadcrumb base. Someone else has brought the obligatory västerbottenpaj, a quiche flavoured with a pungent hard cheese from the far north, and there's another quiche with salmon and spinach. Then there are two enormous sourdough loaves, with dark, decorated crusts and some fröknäcke, a heavily seeded crispbread. The only classic dish missing is gravlax – salmon cured with salt, sugar and dill. Once the potatoes are fully cleaned, Malin throws a handful of dill into the pan and begins the boiling. Swedes take potatoes seriously. All will own a potato-tester, a metal spike the thickness of a needle, with a blunt end and a plastic handle, which is pushed into potatoes to judge their firmness. My wife, I tell Malin as we chitchat, is adamant that you must leave part of the spuds poking above the water, cook them at no more than a simmer, and steam them dry in a pan afterwards. But Malin has no time for such fussiness. 'I know people who, after half the boiling time, pour out some of the water and add new water, and things like that,' she says. 'But I just boil them – not for too long, since they're new potatoes – but I don't understand why it should be so difficult.' Once done, the potatoes are placed in a bowl outside to be served with butter and chopped dill and chives, and sliced hard-boiled eggs laid alongside. A Swedish Midsummer meal is often formal, with places neatly laid on a long table outside, folded napkins and garnished dishes. But this year, thanks to all the young guests, it's a come-and-go affair, with guests sitting down with different neighbours every time they refill their plates. The conversation touches on the shortage of another Midsummer essential: strawberries, which a bad harvest has pushed above 80 kronor (£6) a litre, if you can get hold of any at all. I pile three sorts of herring onto some crispbread, its saltiness setting off the sweet-and-sour bite of the pickle, and also indulge in some gubbröra, enjoying the cinnamon, allspice and sandalwood spicing of the sprats. The potatoes are firm, sweet and a little nutty, the perfect partner to the stronger flavours of the other dishes. I also take some västerbottenpaj, which is so rich with Västerbotten cheese — somewhere between a mature cheddar and a parmesan in strength — that I have to stop at a single helping. The silltårta, an old-fashioned addition even to this very traditional celebration, has a jelly-ish consistency that doesn't quite appeal to me, but goes down well with the other guests. After the meal is over, I join the children and some of the adults walking it off in the surrounding fields and picking flowers for the midsommarkransar, Midsummer crowns made of birch twigs woven together. When we return, we get to work erecting the maypole, about three metres tall, with a crossbar. While it's commonly believed to be a pagan fertility symbol, representing male genitalia, experts insist each year in Swedish newspapers that there's no evidence to back it up – but looking at it, I find it hard to see what else it might be. Soon, adults and children alike are holding hands, circling around the pole, pretending alternately to be a musician playing a violin, someone washing clothes, and, in the most raucous of the dances, jumping like a frog. The celebrations segue into a house party, and then, later in the evening, a barbecue. Christian pulls a pile of waste wood from the barn and lights a fire, which we sit around as the mothers and daughters go out once again to pick flowers. 'You have to jump seven fences and pick one flower in each field, and you're not allowed to speak to one another. You have to be quiet the whole time,' Malin explains of this last ritual. 'And then you have this small bouquet; you put it underneath your pillow and you're supposed to dream about who you're going to marry.' This is one part of the celebrations I can't partake in, but as I bed down on a mattress upstairs, I feel satisfied that I've truly welcomed the summer. Midsummer feasts to visit While most Swedes will celebrate Midsummer in friends' country or island homes, there are organised celebrations for visitors. In 2025, Midsummer falls on 21 June. Tällberg, Dalarna Dalarna county is renowned for traditional Midsummers, with folk costumes, folk music and dancing. Åkerblads Hotel, in Tällberg on Lake Siljan, serves a traditional Midsummer smörgåsbord, with herring, new potatoes and västerbottenpaj, after which you can go into town and take part in the celebrations. Alternatively, at Våmhus Gammelgård, an old farm maintained by Sweden's main conservation organisation, you'll be served kolbulle, a thick pancake with diced, salted or smoked pork. Ringsjön, Skåne Bosjökloster, a country house and former nunnery on the shores of Lake Ringsjön in Skåne, Sweden's southernmost county, puts on a lavish Midsummer spread. Expect all the classics, plus specialities containing ingredients foraged in nearby forests, and plenty of vegan and vegetarian options. Once the buffet's over, join the dancing around a maypole erected on lawns leading down to the lakeshore – one of the most popular celebrations in Skåne. Småland Getnö Gård, a resort on Lake Åsnan in Småland, offers a traditional Midsummer buffet – served, untraditionally, after the maypole dances – including a strawberry cake prepared to a recipe handed down by the owner's grandmother. Most visitors stay over in the campsite or cabins. Fjäderholm In Stockholm, the archipelago is the place to celebrate, and Fjäderholm is the closest island, 30 minutes by ferry from the centre. Rökeriet Fjärderholmarna, a smokery, serves a traditional Midsummer buffet, with all the essentials and more. There's also live music and dancing around the maypole on the island. Väderö Storö The Väderöarnasor 'weather islands', a 35-minute ferry ride from Fjällbacka on the west coast, are the most far-flung islands off the Bohuslan coast. Väderöarnas Värdshus restaurant on Väderö Storö, the biggest island, lays on a Midsummer buffet, picking guests up from nearby Hamburgsund. Published in Issue 26 (winter 2024) of Food by National Geographic Traveller (UK). To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
Wales Online
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Wales Online
The best pictures as Welsh-language festival Tafwyl attracts thousands
Wales has a lot to be proud of. Steeped in history, fiercely independent in its identity, and with its own thriving language, there is a lot to cover in Welsh culture. Welsh festival Tafwyl, which took place in Cardiff's gorgeous Bute Park on Saturday, June 14, and Sunday, June 15, certainly does a very good job bringing together a lot of Welsh culture. There is so much to enjoy at Tawfyl, from the two music stages, endless food options, children's area, and more. As soon as you enter you are hit by the delicious smell of a range of street food and nearly overwhelmed with the Instagram opportunities, as two lovely signs declaring Tafwyl welcome you in. After that, you could mingle and mooch around the trade stalls which are fronted by Welsh artists, designers, and makers, selling everything from prints to jewellery and more. The festival was home to the Tafiliwn stage and the main stage, Prif Lwyfan. Here Welsh artists from across the country took to the stage bringing everything from rap to even renditions of Dolly Parton and Abba in Welsh. Lining the sides of this are the amazing food traders including Hoggi Hoggi Hoggi, Greek options, vegan and vegetarian options, paella, and more. Tafwyl really is for everyone. Welsh speakers, non-Welsh speakers. Old, young, and everyone in between. Families, couples, friends, and every combination possible. Many enjoyed going to Tafwyl and here are some of the best pictures from Tafwyl 2025.
Wales Online
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Wales Online
I went to Wales' biggest free Welsh-language festival and one thing really stood out
Our community members are treated to special offers, promotions and adverts from us and our partners. You can check out at any time. More info I moved to Wales four years ago, not knowing a word of Welsh. Now my Welsh is still very limited but when I first moved here, never did I imagine I would be attending Welsh language festivals. Welsh seemed a language I would never wrap my head around and certainly one I never thought I'd immerse myself in. I was also worried I wouldn't even be welcome at the festivals, being English and that being immediately identifiable as soon as I opened my mouth. How wrong I was. It turns out Welsh festivals are a bucket load of fun, get it, a reference to the famous Welsh bucket hats? And not something to be missed. Last year I attended three Welsh festivals, you can read about my first Eisteddfod here, and this year I returned to Tafwyl, ready to experience more. It is running in Cardiff's gorgeous Bute Park, the perfect setting for it, this weekend on Saturday, June 14, and Sunday, June 15. There is so much to enjoy at Tawfyl, from the two music stages, endless food options, children's area, and more. As soon as you enter you are hit by the delicious smell of a range of street food and nearly overwhelmed with the Instagram opportunities, as two lovely signs declaring Tafwyl welcome you in. After that, you can mingle and mooch around the trade stalls which are all Welsh artists, designers, and makers, selling everything from prints to jewellery and more. (Image: Steph Colderick) From there the festival opens up wider with the Tafiliwn stage to the left and the main stage, Prif Lwyfan, bang in front of you. Here Welsh artists from across Wales take to the stage bringing everything from rap to even renditions of Dolly Parton and Abba in Welsh. Lining the sides of this are the amazing food traders including Hoggi Hoggi Hoggi, Greek options, vegan and vegetarian options, paella, and more. Walk on past the main stage and past more incredible food vendors and you come into the children's section which has its own smaller stage and plenty of activities to keep the little ones occupied, such as the sports area and sensory tent. This is where Tafwyl really comes into its own, as it really is for everyone. (Image: Steph Colderick) Welsh speakers, non-Welsh speakers. Old, young, and everyone in between. Families, couples, friends, and every combination possible. It is truly joyous to walk past families spread out on picnics with little ones running around, young people grabbing drinks at the bar, elderly couples, and every walk of life in Wales, in one place, celebrating Welsh culture. You don't need to be fluent in Welsh to bob along to the music and it's impossible not to see how much joy it brings and how it brings people together. And it is totally free. It really is accessible for everyone and you can bring your own food, unopened soft drinks and reusable water bottles, so you literally don't have to spend a penny. Welsh culture should never be hidden away and really is there for everyone to enjoy and Tafwyl I feel is the perfect example of this. Free, accessible, welcoming, and incredibly good vibes - I couldn't ask for more from any festival. Diolch Tafwyl.
The Guardian
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Under attack from artificial intelligence
Your article about Björn Ulvaeus implies that he disagrees with artists who want to protect their copyright because he believes AI isn't a 'creative threat' (Super Trouper meets supercomputer: AI helping Abba star to write musical, 4 June). In fact, in his role as president of the International Confederation of Societies of Authors and Composers, Ulvaeus has spoken in discussions with the UK government about protection for artists from 'profit-seeking tech companies'. In a speech to MPs and peers, he said: 'Copyright is the oxygen which creators and the creative economy depend on for their existence and survival. They cannot be sacrificed.' It is also worth noting that your article described the 'Abbatars' in the Abba Voyage show as holograms, which they very much aren' McEnerySalisbury Have an opinion on anything you've read in the Guardian today? Please email us your letter and it will be considered for publication in our letters section.
The Courier
10-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Courier
Overgate busker swaps street for stage as he lands Dundee Rep role
Dundee busker Spencer Shek is known for his soulful covers of classic ballads outside the city's Overgate. Shoppers and city centre residents may be familiar with Spencer's crowd-pleasing renditions of everything My Way by Frank Sinatra to Perfect by Ed Sheeran. But this week, the velvet-voiced singer will swap his streetside serenades for a stint on the stage at Dundee Rep in an upcoming Dundee Youth Music Theatre production. 'Chess' is a Cold War musical with music written by Abba's own Benny Anderson and Björn Ulvaeus. Spencer is set to star as Freddie Trumper, a cocky chess grandmaster from the United States whose takes on his Soviet rival in a battle of wills, values and politics. For Dundee University law student Spencer, singing on stage is the dream. But he credits his busking days with giving him the confidence to pursue it. 'I originally started busking in Glasgow when I was 18 and fell in love with it,' says Spencer, 26, who is originally from Kilwinning. 'I was unsure of what busking would be like in Dundee after I moved here for university, but the public here are so lovely and welcoming of me and my music.' The popularity of his city centre performances has secured Spencer several wedding singer gigs, as well as performances at community events and special birthdays. 'My favourite moments are when I get to sing someone down the aisle,' smiles Spencer. 'I'm just in disbelief that someone would want me to sing them down on such as special occasion. I get emotional.' He recently joined the Dundee Youth Music Theatre and has thrown himself into the group. 'I've quickly bonded with everyone,' he says. 'We have such a talented cast and I'm incredibly privileged to be working with everyone there.' Spencer's big plan after university is to make it in the music industry as a singer-songwriter, or perform on the West End or Broadway. But the shrewd soon-to-be graduate is well aware of 'just how hard it is to make it in the music industry', which is why he's been working towards his law diploma since moving to Dundee. 'If it wasn't to work out, at least I still have my degree that I can use for a job that I very much take an interest in,' he says. 'But hopefully the music works out. Fingers crossed – that's the absolute dream for me.'
