Every town has its shortcuts — but Visby’s are older, weirder, and possibly haunted.
I read about a set of half-forgotten stairs near Snäckgärdsbaden, just north of Visby. They’re carved into the bluff above the sea, worn down by centuries of footsteps and sea spray. No signs. No plaques. Just stone steps leading from the forest to the waterline — or maybe deeper, if you ask the right person.
Legend says these stairs were used by smugglers during the Hanseatic era to sneak goods in and out of town without paying tax. Others claim they go back even further — that Vikings once hauled longboats down them (which sounds suspicious but also exactly the kind of thing Vikings would do while grunting dramatically). Locals swear they’ve seen strange lights bobbing down there at night, or heard voices when no one else is around. Sirens? Drunken historians? You decide.
When I finally get to Visby, I’m finding those stairs. Not for the mystery — though I love a good ghost theory — but because that’s the kind of place you feel a town’s memory: unpolished, unadvertised, and hiding in plain sight.
Swedish Word of the Day: Trappa (noun) – stairs 🪜
(Den hemliga trappan leder till havet… eller till det förflutna. – The secret stairs lead to the sea… or to the past.)
Swedish Wanderlust 