Another Nordic Summer

My posts seem to revolve around the state of the weather and I make no apology for that. The weather dictates all our lives, but in my experience, none more so than in Sweden. May offered some glimpses of what was to come after a miserable winter and then of course, June – which included a rather cold mid-summers day was reasonably average. This had us both worried about the summer plans… with what could be summed up rather nicely as an intensive two month period of visitors which arrived in such frequency, that one could literally hold the door open for the next arrival - the vicious cycle of bed linen laundry only just keeping up with the pace of change.

 

Mid-Summers Day. Barely even summer!

Despite the onset of visitors, we still hadn’t quite adapted to the Swedish way. That is taking 6-8 weeks of summer vacation in one block. We adopted a more conservative approach of a 2-3 week block surrounded by weeks before and after the main season, taking days off here and there and in a way prolonging the holiday period over 3 months with a few weeks of work getting in the way in between. I know, it’s a tough life living in Scandanavia. However sure enough, come July, pretty much 80% of the neighbourhood packed their car to the tilt and drove off to their summer houses not to be seen again for many weeks and in most cases months.

The visitor rules were soon in action at our place on Ekovägen. On the first one or two nights, visitors were treated like long lost friends – which of course they were. Beds were made, dinner was prepared with much deliberation, sightseeing adventures were organised and led, and nothing much in return was expected. Then the 2 day to 1 week rules came into play which generally revolved around visitors being a little more self-sufficient, not expecting 24/7 attention, cooking a dinner or two and maybe taking themselves off sightseeing by themselves. After one week all bets were off and visitors generally had to fend for themselves at our house. Three weeks plus and some servitude to the hosts was expected and anything above five weeks and guests are generally invoiced upon departure and pushed into the departing transport with – if their lucky, a fleeting farewell. No one dared stay longer than five weeks!

In order to limit the indoor chaos around feeding times and in blind faith of the oncoming Swedish summer, we purchased outdoor dining furniture and hoped for the best. The day it arrived it was cold and miserable and we questioned our folly of our faith. However, June clicked over to July and our faith started to bear fruit and Sweden bathed in what was one of the hottest July’s on record. In fact it was so hot, morning, day and night I think we ate outside for every meal for nearly every single day for 6 weeks straight.

Outside dining and World Cup winner supporters in action.

Our small garden was put to good use too. The vegetable garden was a disaster – it started out well, but as soon as the seedlings popped out of the ground, an army of slugs from the bordering forest attacked and decimated the entire thing – who said Sweden hasn’t been at war in 100 years! So we tried flowers instead and after yet the same result decided to give up on it; the buggers even ate the marigolds. However Ana’s pool was a permanent feature in the garden for the whole of summer and combined with all the other small gardens of the adjoining row houses – which unlike in New Zealand are not fenced fortresses but open and continuous, the kids enjoyed a rather large garden to make the most of on the long hot summer days. This enabled us to easily make friends with most of our neighbours who arose after the long winter hibernation. Before they all left on holiday several days later that is.

Various short stayers came and went, the fridge was replenished with beer for the arrival of Tina’s parents - Karin and Michael, and the nightly World Cup watching commenced. Their place was taken by the arrival of my mother - Hilda, and a week later we all bundled everyone into a people mover and south we went.

Any excuse to cool off was welcome in what turned into being a blazer of a summer.

From our base just south of the city of Kalmar we explored the local area, swam in the Baltic, took in the local church’s and castles and frequented the camp ground pool and ice cream shop liberally. Temperatures soared into the mid-thirties throughout Sweden and the country seemingly beamed in delight; albeit a bit lethargically.

Kalmar Castle

Ana getting into some horse riding practise

The very warm Baltic Sea

Back in Stockholm, temperatures continued to bask, only to be broken by massive thunder and lightning storms that sank the odd boat and burned the odd apartment complex to the ground. A friend made a whistle top visit and in the midst of it all I squeezed in some work.

Blue Lagoon

Specially designed sun catching park benches - only in Sweden

Ice-cream. Need I say anymore

 Meanwhile I made the most of the very long days by riding most mornings and getting some miles into the legs before the 3 Peaks later in the year. Like last year, I slipped into the summer routine quite nicely. I was generally awake between 4 and 5 am every day. I’ve always been a morning person but I have never found it so easy to get up and go and get in a couple of hours riding before work than I have in Sweden.

Did I mention the heat?

Early August saw Hilda jetting back to New Zealand, and Tina, Ana and I packing up another hire car for a week road trip to the west coast circumnavigating Sweden’s largest Lake – Lake Vänern in the process. Of course the weather couldn’t last. For six weeks in a row it was stifling, but the moment we set off on our camping trip the temperatures plummeted and it poured down. It rained so much many of the towns we passed through seemed to be left in a state of flood. However, we made the most of it, spending most of our nights in rented stugas (holiday houses) and squeezing in a couple of nights in the tent when the risk of floating away in the night was at its least.

 

Now time for 'our' holiday - a little colder and wetter

On the northern shores of Vänern we followed some random signs ‘Picasso Statue’ to low and behold, a huge Picasso Statue. Apparently the locals had thought that there was no reason why they shouldn’t have Europe’s most famous artist commission a large statue for them, and they obviously had way too much money, so that’s exactly what they did. We only found it by chance while looking for somewhere to pee.

Picasso was here

Near Karlstad we camped the first night only to be warned that it got noisy. Apparently the area used be known for a local fresh water crayfish which was eventually fished to its death. So now, the people still come, but rather sadly they don’t fish as there is nothing to fish for but instead bring frozen Chinese imports and drown their sorrows with alcohol. We have definitely had better night’s sleep!

The next day we drove in torrential rain – something that was to become a pattern of the trip, to the town of Arvika where we dined on a greasy lunch at the only establishment we could find open. It appears Swedish towns are about as quiet on Sunday than I remember the New Zealand town centres of my youth being. And… the food about as healthy! When we first arrived in Stockholm well over a year ago, we were amazed at what a fit and healthy looking bunch inhabited it. However as we have travelled further abroad in Sweden, we have come to realise that this is not actually the norm elsewhere in Sweden. If food options in town centres outside of Stockholm have anything to go by, that in part would explain the difference.

Next stop was the beautiful national park of Glaskogen were we spent a few days canoeing the water ways and walking the trails in between the down pours of astronomical proportions. Ana got to practise her favourite Swedish summer pastime of blueberries and lingonberry picking and we always rolled back into the stuga with a belly full of wild berries. The little hire car got a good work out driving out of the park on the very windy and hilly dirt roads and from there we headed to the West Coast.

The good rural Swedish life... Fires, Stugas, Canoes and cold

We took a ferry out to Koster Island on what was truly the only day we saw the sun in a week. Koster was a sleepy hamlet bursting with Norwegians (the border was only a stone’s throw away) and their luxury yachts (all Norwegians are millionaires) but that didn’t ruin the rustic ambience on the island and we made the most of the weather swimming in the crystal clear water and soaking up the rays of sun at every possible opportunity – we truly are adapting to the Swedish life.

 

The beautiful Kosta Islands

A day exploring the iron age ruins of the area and we were ready to make the long journey east once more. We were determined to at least camp one more night on the trip so we split the drive at Läckö Castle on the southern shores of Vänern and camped in the woods in a scene reminiscent of home.

Old rocks - must be Europe

Camping...at last

Back in Stockholm once more, the miserable August weather deteriorated even more and we figured that we were well and truly on the path towards the long winter once again. However September has been glorious so it’s not quite ready just yet much to everyone’s delight.

This week I have been feeling a bit stateless as I cannot vote in the New Zealand general election as I’ve been out of the country too long, and we are not allowed to vote in Sweden as we are not citizens. We are able to vote in the municipal elections held at the same time though so I figured I may as well. Both Tina and I laughed at the process of casting our votes. This involves selecting a pre-printed card for the party you would like to vote for in full view of everyone at the polling station and then placing and sealing it an envelope. The trick we heard is that people simply take a whole bunch of the cards from a variety of parties and discard the ones they don’t want at a later date. Once more, parties have to supply their own cards and solicitation on election day is not only legal (contrary to New Zealand) but party members stand outside polling booths handing out their voting cards and bribing young children with balloons. If Ana could vote, she would have voted the Social Democrats – they supplied helium filled balloons. I did note a few days earlier a couple of their type loitering at our row of letter boxes and depositing their voting cards for our convenience. I laughed when our letter box didn’t contain any, they were only giving their cards to the letter boxes with Swedish sounding names. I ended up voting for a guy who wore a t-shirt, sported some stubble and looked like someone I could actually sit down and have a chat with, rather than the twats in suits that featured on nearly other party poster I saw. I definitely wasn’t going to vote for the incumbents whose sole political agenda was along the lines of ‘If you vote for them, say goodbye to jobs’ without actually outlining any policies of their own.

So, with the days shortening and nights cooling, we again find ourselves moving rapidly towards the slippery slope of winter. Not just a couple of months of it, but another long Nordic winter. Are we ready for it? Not really. We just hope it is a good one this time. And by that I mean lots of snow, very cold but clear and crisp. Will we get it? We will see.

In two weeks time I jet to the United Kingdom for the first time in nearly ten years. Although by the time I get there it might not be that United if half of Scotland get their way. What will they call it then? They’ve lost or given up half the world and now their very own land lubbers are potentially going their own way. It will simply have to be renamed A Kingdom. Why am I going to the United Kingdom? Well, this will give you some clues:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDP9STnZpvQ