6 September 2020. A look at Sweden's unique approach to coronavirus. Video / Sky News / Getty Images
It didn't take long from the day the coronavirus-hit Swedish city of Uppsala was issued with tough local restrictions before people started ignoring them.
"It was very quiet here for the first three or four days after the new guidelines," remembers Peter Rylander, owner of the city's Veganos Cafe, which has stayed open throughout the pandemic, despite revenues falling by nearly half.
"Then customers were slowly returning until it was back to nearly normal."
On Tuesday (Wednesday NZT) it will be three weeks since the city and its surrounding region became the first in Sweden to test the new weapon in the Public Health Agency's arsenal - time-limited, far-reaching local restrictions, which are not, however, backed by any legal sanctions or fines.
The restrictions, which have now been rolled out in 10 regions, including the cities of Stockholm, Gothenburg and Malmo, show Sweden shifting from the light-touch approach it took in the Northern Hemisphere spring.
The exterior of Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Lofven's official residence in Stockholm. Lofven went into protective self-isolation last week after he was potentially exposed to Covid-19. Photo / AP
But according to Johan Nojd, Uppsala's regional infectious diseases doctor, they have not worked.
"It's difficult to see any impact since we had the highest amount of positive tests ever on Monday, a much higher record than in the spring," he says.
Both the number of weekly new confirmed coronavirus cases in the region, and the number being treated in hospital, have more than doubled since the restrictions were issued.
The second wave began later in Sweden than elsewhere in Europe, raising hopes that the high levels of infection seen in April and May had brought some immunity, at least in Stockholm.
But the number of cases per capita began to climb again in September. While it remains below that of the European Union as a whole, it is again well above those of both Germany and of Sweden's Nordic neighbours.
Nojd points to reports of crowded buses in the city and of parties and dinners continuing regardless as evidence that too many are ignoring the two main recommendations: to avoid public transport unless necessary, and avoid physical contact with people outside your household.
"Perhaps more than 50 per cent are listening very attentively to the advice they hear, perhaps even 80 per cent, but then we have this 20 per cent to 40 per cent that is not listening at all," he said.
In the southern city of Malmo, which was issued with local restrictions a week after Uppsala, schools have been closed to parents for the first time, and libraries limited to borrowing and returning books. Restaurants report losing about half of their custom.
When the Telegraph visited the Triangeln shopping centre on Friday, however, it seemed as busy as usual.
As in Uppsala, the number of people testing positive in Skane, the region around Malmö, has continued to increase, hitting a seven-day average of 374 on Thursday, more than 75 per cent higher than on the day the measures were imposed.
One difference from the spring is that Sweden's regional doctors for infectious disease appear more willing to speak out.
Nojd's colleague Fredrik Sund, who heads the infectious diseases clinic in Uppsala, went on Swedish television on Thursday night to call for a hard national lockdown.
"We need to bring in tougher restrictions which are backed by law, because we've now seen that these recommendations are too toothless," he said. "Now we've got a chance to do something about it. In a few weeks, it won't have any effect."
Sweden's health minister Lena Hallengren on Friday morning rejected the suggestion, arguing the current non-coercive recommendations were enough.
"I don't see us pushing through a law which means we have a total 'lockdown', she said. "As far as I'm concerned, we have strict recommendations and guidelines which mean that large parts of society are shut down."
Nojd said he feels "a little pessimistic. We don't know how steep [the curve] will be and we don't know when it will stop".
He still hopes, however, that the population in Uppsala and other Swedish cities might realise the severity of the situation and act more responsibly. His colleague's television appearance might even have helped.
On Friday afternoon, Veganos Cafe is deserted. Rylander, surrounded by empty tables, is eating a vegetarian lasagne with only his wife to accompany him. "People in Sweden pay attention to what authorities say on prime time," he says.
