Well, the receptionist turned out to be wrong after all. When I woke up, it was raining. I had heard some bells chiming at 7:25 and 8:35—perhaps a church mass—so it was easy to hear the sound of raindrops. I packed my bag, grabbed my raincoat just in case, and stowed it away in my backpack. By the time I finished breakfast around half past ten and left for the Palace of the Grand Master, the rain was down to a light drizzle.
Admission was free today as well, thanks to European Heritage Days—always a nice bonus! I learned that there are actually two exhibitions, but only one is open at a time depending on the day. I walked through the open one, which had plenty of interesting artifacts on display, though unfortunately most of the signage only focused on the intricate floor patterns and mosaics. On the upside, there were clear arrows marked on the floor to guide visitors—a vast improvement over yesterday’s navigation!
After a quick “fika”, I stepped outside the main palace and realized there was a whole outdoor courtyard to explore, packed with stone sculptures and smaller exhibits offering a deeper dive into the site’s history. By then, the rain had stopped, but the humidity spiked, and it got quite muggy. When I left at noon, the crowds had started pouring in. I was glad I had come early; it was a great way to kill some time and get my steps in.
I wandered deeper into the Old Town in search of local honey and olive oil, consulting Claude (AI) on my phone for a quick list of what qualities to look out for. The narrow alleys are brilliant in rainy weather because shopkeepers extend their awnings across the street, creating a covered walkway that lets customers keep browsing without getting soaked. I found a charming shop carrying both honey and olive oil. After snapping a few photos of the labels and having Claude evaluate them, they passed with flying colors. Mission successful!
Nearby, I spotted a restaurant with ample seating under large umbrellas and decided to stop for a smoothie. The patrons at the two neighboring tables were vaping—it smells, but at least it’s a bit less intrusive than cigarette smoke (though one of the restaurant touts was switching back and forth between a cigarette and a vape!). The smoothie—a blend of mango, strawberry, and banana—was fantastic. Two Swedish women, presumably a grandmother and her granddaughter, took the table opposite mine, and I did my best not to eavesdrop on their conversation.
The rain came and went in waves. During a brief break in the downpour, I went inside to settle the bill—my very first cash transaction of the trip! Just as I stepped back out, the heavens opened up again, water heavy on the canvas awnings overhead. I waited out the worst of it before resuming my stroll through the Old Town, eventually reaching the inner side of the outer walls. This part of the district felt purely residential—no shops or restaurants, just quiet streets with local cars and scooters parked outside homes with doors and shuttered windows of all ages.
Throughout the day, I noticed quite a few (seemingly) stray cats roaming the streets. They seem well cared for by both locals and tourists alike, as I spotted clean food and water bowls placed here and there. In the rain today, many of them were taking shelter wherever they could find a dry spot. As much as I wanted to reach out and pet them, I didn’t quite dare to—and seeing them just made me miss my own cats back home so much more.
Around two o’clock, my stomach started rumbling. I headed towards the spot where I’d had dinner on my first night, remembering a burger joint nearby. However, being a rainy Sunday, half the places were closed, and the rest were completely packed. One restaurant seemed severely understaffed; despite several empty, uncleared tables, a queue of hungry people was waiting. The waiter mentioned a 30-minute wait for a table, so I decided to move on.
I ended up back on the “restaurant street” close to the hotel and ordered a spaghetti bolognese. Just as I sat down, the rain intensified dramatically. Anyone out on the street made a frantic dash for the nearest roof or doorway. It rained so hard that a couple sitting near the edge of the covered patio had to relocate because water was splashing up off the tables outside the fence!
The food was decent enough, though I reminded myself that ordering pasta with meat sauce at a tourist spot is rarely a highlight. I hurried back to my room, changed into dry clothes, and settled in to watch the final two episodes of Orange is the New Black. That’s one more series checked off the list! Afterward, I tuned into the Leksands IF vs. Almtuna IS hockey match. I couldn’t help but reflect on how I used to follow games back in the day—constantly refreshing basic text updates on Swehockey for goals and penalties. Now, here I am on a Mediterranean island, streaming the game live in real time. And people say things were better in the past!
After Leksand secured the win (a bit closer than it needed to be), I showered and headed out for dinner, landing right next door to last night’s restaurant at La Casa Roof Garden. I was offered a seat upstairs on the open terrace, taking a slight gamble that the rain was finished for the night. I ordered a beef steak with pepper sauce and enjoyed reading my book while I waited.
The food arrived quickly, and after finishing my meal, I asked for the bill. I was directed downstairs into a small office, where a man sitting at a desk handwrote a paper receipt, tapped a few buttons on a card terminal, and held it out for me. Almost everywhere else asks whether you’re paying with cash or card, but here there wasn’t even a question!
Back at the hotel, I followed my usual evening ritual: grabbed my laptop, headed down to the bar, and sat down to summarize the day.