Me and my Volvo

Sweden, I believe I am destined to have ‘something’ to do with it. That started even before my birth. My parents named me May-Britt, inspired by Sweden. The honest version of the story is that my father – in the era before my mother peeked around the corner – was in love with a beautiful Swede with the same name. The warm feeling for this lady faded, but the love for the name remained.

I remember how wonderful it was when I – years later at a Swedish wedding – could just introduce myself without having to give any further explanation about my name.

When I grew up, besides Pippi Longstocking and Ronja the Robber's Daughter, the Volvo we drove was the Swedish factor. Of course, it was safe and solid – that's what this brand stands for. But Volvo also meant chic and style back then without shouting it from the rooftops. Understated chic, even before the term was invented.

We went from a dark green Volvo 740 to a light green metallic Volvo 740 GLE. I still remember the admiring looks we garnered when we arrived at a family day. I've had quite a few cars in my life, but when I could take over the Volvo 940 from a friend who was moving abroad for a good price, I really felt ‘like the woman’. I knew few women my age – 27 – with such a cool ride under their behinds.

It was also with that Volvo that my new love and I traveled to Rome and fell in love threefold. With each other, with the city, and with Micke and Helena, who – like us – wanted to learn Italian for a year. You’ve probably already guessed where they came from.

During endless lunches, they talked about Malmö, about Skåne – the beautiful east coast of Sweden where wild horses roam along the cliffs. I saw how they – even with their fairly limited budget – were always able to showcase class and style. Their apartment was small and understated, but you could have done a photo shoot for a fashion magazine there.

What I also learned? To appreciate nature and incorporate it into your life. We buy a Christmas tree and then throw it on a pile. They dig it up and replant it.

A sense of community was also so different from ours. The sweetest example is Kanelbullens Dag on October 4, when you give cinnamon buns – yet another reason to want to live in Sweden – to people who, in your eyes, deserve a little extra.

Micke and Helena also couldn't let the hectic life take possession of them. When they went picnicking, we were in the moment and the phone was set aside. If they had their laptop with them, it was only opened to play music or show a photo.

When they said that in Sweden it is very normal to go home early on Fridays because you wanted to spend a long weekend in nature with your family – in Sweden you can camp anywhere – I seriously considered emigrating.

What I also find a beautiful Swedish value is giving. Being generous and sometimes putting your own interests aside for the collective. Volvo, for example, is the only car brand that also conducts safety research on dummies other than just male ones. They also test on female and child dummies. And not only that: they also share that information. Because safety for all is more important than winning as a brand over the rest.

I've already checked off Malmö, Skåne, Stockholm. In two weeks, I get to go to Gothenburg with Volvo. I bet I'll be adding some fresh Swedish values to this list again. I'll keep you posted!