As I had been informed how slowly travelling is done in this country, and how tedious the delays are when the horses are changed, I determined to allow time enough for all interruptions, and yet arrive at the appointed hour.
A few miles behind Upsala lies Old Upsala (Gamla Upsala).

I saw the old church and the grave-hills in passing; three of the latter are remarkably large, the others smaller.

It is presumed that the higher ones cover the graves of kings.

I saw similar tumuli during my journey to Greece, on the spot where Troy is said to have stood.

The church is not honoured as a ruin; it has yet to do service; and it grieved me to see the venerable building propped up and covered with fresh mortar on many a time-worn spot.
Half way between Upsala and Danemora we passed a large castle, not distinguished for its architecture, its situation, or any thing else.
Then we neared the river Fyris, and the long lake of Danemora; both are quite overgrown with reeds and grass, and have flat uninteresting shores; indeed the whole journey offers little variety, as the road lies through a plain, only diversified by woods, fields, and pieces of rock.