Reference no: EM133312557

Case Study: I went to the tourist office to have a room found for me. I had to fill out a form with about 700 questions on it, but it was worth it because the hotel, the Castle on Riddargatan,about a mile from the station, was a charming little find, friendly, clean, and reasonably priced - in so far as - that statement can be made about anything in Sweden. I headed first for Gamla Stan, the old town, on the far side of the Strombron bridge. It had an oddly Central European feel to it: narrow, hilly streets lined by severe, heavy buildings the colour of faded terracotta, sometimes with chunks of plaster missing, as if they had been struck a glancing blow by tank fire, and often with pieces knocked off the corners where trucks had carelessly backed into them. It had a kind of.knocked-about charm, but was surprisingly lacking in any air of prosperity. Most of the windows were dirty, the brass name plates and door knockers were generally unpolished, and almost every building was in serious need of a good coat of paint. Maybe it was just the rain, which was falling steadily again, that brought its grey gloom to the city. Did it never stop raining in Sweden? I walked with shoulders hunched and eyes cast down, avoiding the water that rushed down the steep, cobbled lanes, glancing in the windows of antique shops, wishing I had a hat or an umbrella. I retreated into a dark coffee shop, where I sat shivering, drinking a $3 cup of coffee with both hands, and realised I had a cold coming on. I returned to the hotel, had a lavishly steamy bath and a change of clothes and felt marginally better. At about five the sky brightened. I immediately pulled on my damp sneakers and went out to explore the streets between Norrmalmstorg, a nearby square, and Kungstradgarden, a small rectangular park that ran down to the waterfront. Everything was much better now. It was a Saturday evening and the streets were full of people meeting friends and repairing in high spirits to the little restaurants and bistros scattered around the neighbourhood.

Starving as ever, I selected what looked to be the cheeriest and most popular of all, a cavernous bistro overlooking Norrmalmstorg called Matpalatset. It was friendly and crowded and wonderfully warm and snug, but the food was possibly the worst I have ever had outside a hospital cafeteria - a grey salad with watery cucumber and mushrooms that tasted of old newspaper, and a lasagne that was not so much cooked as scorched. I was quietly agog. Nowhere else in Europe could a place serve food this bad and stay in business, and yet people were queuing at the door. Afterwards I went for a long walk and felt more charitably disposed to Stockholm now that the rain had stopped. It really is an exceptionally beautiful city, more watery even than Venice, and with more parkland per person than any other city in Europe. It is built on fourteen islands and within a few miles of the city there are 25,000 more, almost all of them dotted with cottages into which the city drains its population every weekend. I walked far out onto the broad and leafy avenues and narrower side streets, all of them lined with six-storey apartment buildings, stern and stolid and yet oddly homey, and at least three-quarters of the windows were darkened. It must be a burglar's paradise betweenFriday evening and Sunday afternoon.

Question 1.(a) Write a summary of all the things that the writer found unpleasant or disappointing about Stockholm. Write about 80 words. Use your own words as far as possible.

Question (b) Write a summary of all the things that he enjoyed. Write about 80 words. Use your own words as far as possible.