Posted on Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Julianne successfully persuades Brian to visit ABBA The Museum in Sweden's chic capital, Stockholm. But can she get him to remember that they had indeed met to the sound of Dancing Queen in the summer of 1976?

It was a shame we had to start our Stockholm break in a burger joint. It was my birthday weekend, after all. But Brian was most insistent.

I had to keep him sweet, however, and a trip to 'Barrels Burgers' was the way to do it. While I'm not a burger fan, I have to admit the sausage burger we shared (it was huge) was delicious. An enormous chorizo-style sausage curled in an over-sized bun, topped with coleslaw and crispy fried onions... mmm.

Even though I loved the burger, I had to remember it was essentially a bribe. Because this weekend was about me – which is to say, it was about ABBA.

Brian reminded me once again, as we recovered from the gigantic sausage burger, that he didn't like ABBA – not even when they were 'hip' in 1976. But what really gets me is this: whenever I recount the night we met in a Blackpool disco in 1976 to the sound of Dancing Queen, he tells me I was mistaken.

"It was Combine Harvester by The Wurzels," he says.

Anyway, it wasn't time to argue. Sublime Stockholm awaited.

Tummies full, we emerged from Barrels and found ourselves on a sunny pavement in Gamla Stan, Stockholm's arresting historic quarter.

We still hadn't checked in to our hotel.

Brian recounted some facts about Sweden's capital from his guidebook: "14 islands, 57 bridges, compact… walkable."

We hailed a taxi.

All I could think about was ABBA.

Pop House Hotel

It hadn't been easy persuading Brian to stay in the Pop House Hotel, but the expended energy had been worth it. Besides, it was my birthday, so he had to say yes.

At the reception I could sense Brian was suppressing a sigh or a big tut. ABBA songs were playing – from somewhere. A smiling Swedish girl welcomed us, reminding us about the complimentary breakfast.

The room was spacious, hip, cool and modern – as the website had suggested. Brian wasn't keen, although he did like the view from the panoramic windows.

I thought it was a fantastic place to base oneself during an ABBA-themed trip to Stockholm.

But the superb room wasn't the best thing about the hotel: I picked Pop House because it was located right next to the ABBA Museum!

After what I thought was a great rendition of "Knowing Me Knowing You" in the shower, I found Brian in quite a good mood on the trendy bedspread. He was gazing at a leaflet for the Vasa Museum.

Oh yes, I remembered.

"So you want to see that old warship before we see ABBA"

"ABBA aren't actually going to be there you know," he said.

The Vasa Warship

The Vasa was a warship built between 1626 and 1628. I know this because Brian told me. The ship had floundered just minutes after setting sail, at the behest of the then-king, Gustavus Adolphus. He wanted it to help him fight Poland-Lithuania in a rather nasty war. The ship was found again in the 1950s and they put it in a big museum.

I had to admit that seeing this huge old rotting warship from the 1600s was a lot more exciting than I'd imagined: I'm not into all this nautical nonsense, but it was quite a spectacle.

That King Gustavus Adolphus was something of a tyrant and I couldn't help but hum 'Waterloo' as we left the museum.

"That was about Napoleon," said Brian.

Hmm. I wouldn't get to sing to an appreciative audience until the next day.

ABBA The Museum

It was a pleasure ground for ABBA fans. There were photos I'd never seen, some of the cars they'd toured in and even the helicopter used on the cover of Arrival, their sad – but still good – final album.

And there were clothes too – scores of mannequins that made up a universe of sequins and satin.

The museum also had mock-ups of the places they'd recorded songs (many of which were surprisingly normal, despite their excessive wealth). It even had a mock-up of the office of their manager, the legendary Stig Andersen.

But the best part for me was when I got to perform in front of a group of wrinkly ABBA fans (like me!). Nervously I stood up against a back projection of computer-generated ABBA members.

I thought I would freeze.

But then the music started and I began singing, as they say, as if no one was watching – except Brian of course.

What a wonderful way to spend one's birthday weekend!

When I'd finally finished and skipped off the stage, elated, Brian said to me: "I think this song might have been playing after all. When we met, I mean."

It was then that I realised there were tears in my eyes. It was dark, but I think I saw tears in Brian's eyes too.

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