Kyrkesund - Hjärnarp

Slow and steady down Sweden's West Coast.

When does a holiday become an extended trip, when does an extended trip become everyday life? We find ourselves pondering this from time-to-time, when frustration leads to complacency. We remind ourselves that this adventure is a long one, sometimes it will feel short and precious, sometimes infinitely long. Our challenge is to treat everyday with the same gratitude, whether it is rain or sun beating down on us we are still together, experiencing new things everyday.

As we travelled down Sweden’s West Coast we wanted to speed up and slow down at the same time. When the sun wins it’s constant tussle with the rain we pause and soak it in, still enamoured by the beauty in the landscape. When the rain returns we become restless, the condensation on our windscreen telling us it might be time to drive South. The weather has become our metronome and dictates our actions and our emotions like never before.

When the rain does stick around our world seems to shrink, our home is plenty big enough with a garden but when forced inside for too long it suddenly transforms. Our kitchen/living/diner adds laundrette and study to it’s repertoire and we go slightly mad. To counteract the cabin fever we’ve forced ourselves outside to museums or local attractions and found them to be mostly closed, the holiday season already officially over.

On the tiny island of Heron we felt like the only humans on the planet and finally started to appreciate why this archipelago is so revered. Only a couple of unlocked doors and trustingly left bicycles as clues that we weren’t alone. Further south in Varberg we spent three days in the rain and left with a sense of ‘what if’, disappointed not to witness the surf but encouraged by the wonderful people we met.

Perhaps as a consequence of the weather we have found a love for Swedish supermarkets, notably Coop where the assorted Pic’n’Mix can turn even a quick trip into an afternoon activity. To bolster our cooking potential we have bought an Omnia Stove, a proudly Swedish invention that turns a hob into an oven. To celebrate these discoveries we baked chips for dinner and coated peanuts for pudding.

The weather is shifting but we’re still reluctant to rush away from this beautiful place. The present and future jostle for our attention, the contentedness with our current location still fending off our eager restlessness for what is next.