I knew Stockholm spreads from the mainland across 14 islands in an archipelago of 30,000 islands, but I thought the islands were on the Baltic Sea and would smell salty and damp, which would cause the elegant old buildings to stink of mildew. But that was my ignorance. The islands are in Lake Mälaren, and the crisp lake air smells clean and fresh as an ultra-detergent promise, but better, because the scent of lilacs is pure. The old buildings I entered, didn’t smell, which is how good buildings should be. (My Wyoming bias)
Our tourist guides talked about the bad old days (19th century) when the lake was foul. Now it is quite clean and the treated tap water is so clean that the most elegant restaurants, like the Grand Hotel’s Terrace, serve regular water from stylish, hotel-branded bottles. You don’t need lemon slices or tea to mask the flavor — Stockholm water tastes like it was just dipped from a mountain creek.
I wish I had a glassful now. On this humid, high-ozone July day in Washington, D.C., when it is time to boil water again and replenish the pitcher of iced rooibos tea, I envy Stockholm’s well-thought out and well-funded “naturalness.”