I have travelled many thousand leagues, and have often met with stormy weather, especially on the passage from Copenhagen to Iceland; but I only experienced one real storm, but a violent and dangerous one, as I was crossing the Black Sea to Constantinople in April 1842.
We arrived at Gottenburg at nine instead of at six o'clock in the morning.

I landed at once, to make the celebrated trip through the locks, over the waterfalls of Trollhatta, with the next Stockholm steamer.

By the junction of the river Gotha with some of the interior lakes, this great construction crosses the whole country, and connects the North Sea with the Baltic.
I found the town of Gottenburg very animated, on account of the presence of the king of Sweden, who was spending a few days here on his way to Christiania to prorogue the Storthing.

I arrived on a Sunday, and the king, with his son, were in the church.

The streets swarmed with human beings, all crowding towards the cathedral to catch a glimpse of his majesty on his departure.