When I look at a map of Europe one massive glaring thing
jumps out at me.
My eyes burn into the map and all I can see is a giant hole
where Scandinavia is.
Why have I never been to Sweden, Norway or Finland my mind
asks?
Years ago in Africa I met a Swedish bloke and we became good
mates. We have kept in touch and he even stayed at mine when he came over in
2008.
Out of the blue he emailed me and to paraphrase said 'Ben,
the time has come for you to visit Sweden'.
Ten minutes later and a look at my work rota I was on the
internet and had a Norwegian air flight booked to Stockholm and then a
connecting flight to the Northern city of Umea where he lives.
Finally I would get to visit one of the countries which I
have always dreamed of seeing.
Sweden in June, in the sun, by the fjords here I come.
After speed walking from terminal 5 to terminal 4 in Arlanda
airport I was seated in an almost empty jet that shot the short distance up
towards the Gulf of Bothnia and landed in Umea in about an hour.
I wandered out of the tiny airport and there was Henrik
beaming and standing there in a Union Jack t shirt.
Here begins my flying three days on Swedish soil.
Ironically after a day of exploring the town and visiting
Tarftea by the sea on the fjords we ended up in the liveliest bar in town. The
night was still bright even though it was past 1am as we stepped into the
Bishops arms English pub. Normally I would avoid English pubs while overseas
unless the rugby is being showed but I am 100% sure I was the only Brit in
there. Maybe the only Brit in town as when people heard us speaking English
they made a b line for us to chat.
'Why are you here?Nno one comes to Umea' one bearded blonde
Swede said to me at the bar.
The first day was spent drinking, shopping for cheaper drinks
in the super market and exploring. We also feasted on Moose heart, moose steaks
and dried reindeer. A true Swedish smorgasbord of delights!
The walk back to Tomtebo where he lives at silly o clock in
the morning was more like an early evening stroll in the twilight rather than a
drunken stumble.
Being in light at that hour is slightly eerie. I had done it
once before in Iceland but here in the middle of the town there was something post-apocalyptic
about the light and the stillness.
The next day we woke early and went and did the most strange
of Swedish traditions. The cow release!
Today was the national Swedish day. They didn’t however have
flags galore and parades and music. Instead they went to see the cows released
into the paddocks and fields after a long hard cold winter of being cooped up
inside.
They run out and leap in the air, back legs flying around to
the delight of the crowd.
We were there maybe an hour before we left out of boredom.
There however was one strange thing about the event. It was held on a farm in
Red Creek (Roback) and inside one barn and then on the makeshift trailer stage
a man spoke to the crowd about all the murders throughout modern history that
were committed in the town.
He even was selling for about £6 a pop thesis’s on the
subjects.
Sandra and Henrik get to know a little calf |
Off to the lake
Henrik and I along with his misses Sandra drove to Tarftea
which lies on a fjord in the Gulf of Bothnia. This stretch of water is the far
north of the Baltic Sea and is the water gap between Sweden and her Finnish
neighbours.
The sun was shining and the water reflected her rays. The scene was idyllic as Henrik and I took out the canoe and paddled out to sea into the fjord with a couple of cold beers to hand.
It was so peaceful and relaxed and just what I needed, an
escape from everything.
Not even the fermented herring that they made me try could
spoil this relaxing day.
Imagine putting dog turd in your mouth but it being slimier
and greasier and out of a can. That is exactly what fermented herring must taste
like as it was single handily the most disgusting thing that I have ever put
into my mouth.
The smell lingers and seems to hang in the air attracting
flies.
T The terrible fermented herring delicacy |
Paddling out into the gulf of Bothnia |
The sun didn’t set over the fjord. It just got a little
dinner and with the dimming light the day ended and so began my last day in the
North of Sweden.
What do you do on your last day apart from explore the city
and climb to the top of a hill to look out over the Umea forests? Well the answer
to that question is you play disc golf.
Not Frisbee golf as I was corrected but disc golf.
It was actually a very fun game and you can play shirtless
in the sun avoiding the holes in the woods because the mosquitos were out in
force again.
It certainly should catch on in the UK because it was so
much fun.
As we played missing puts and over shooting the discs we saw
some people taking it far too seriously. They had special discs and a disc bag,
not to mention an extra special disc wiper super-duper cloth! Every sport has
the guys who have all the gear!
I didn’t want to leave Sweden. I had only been here for 3
days but loved the place and wanted to stay. The wonderful ikea show house that
was there waterfront summer retreat, the weird Kalles kaviar they have in a
tube for breakfast on toast and the fact that the Swedes love a beer and are
rather friendly. All these facts made me want to move on and explore places
like Stockholm, Malmo, Kalmar, Sundsvall and Gothenburg. Maybe one day I will
return; hopefully?
Henrik dropped me off at the tiny shack that is Umea airport
and we said our goodb
It is always great to make friends and even better to keep
in touch with them after so many years.
We had been through a lot in Ghana back in 2005/06 and we
still giggled about it as though it was yesterday.
Henrik and Sandra had shown me great hospitality and I was
truly touched by the thought and effort that they had put into my visit.
As I stepped up into the aircraft I had that melancholy
feeling of leaving a place. I always get that when I travel, the more I see the
more I want to see and the longer I want to go for.
Sweden disappeared below me as the plane rose into the
evening sun lit sky. The next time I would see darkness would be at Gatwick
where I tried to remember where I had parked the car.
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