Some facts about Norway. It has a population of just over 5 million, and a surface area of 386,000 square kilometres, half of which is mountain, and a further third forest, lake and river. It has a constitutional monarchy, the King being Harald V, who came to the throne in 1991. It is not a member of the EU, but has signed up to the EEA free-trade deal and the Schengen Agreement. Think seafood would be their national dish? Wrong – it is frozen pizza – the Norwegians consume 20 million of them each year. A bit like Chicken Tikka Masala being the Brits favourite go-to meal. The other fact, which Howard read out yesterday, is that Norway is the wettest country in Europe – something which we can certainly concur with. Probably Karma for being rude about people who take cruises!

When checking the Norwegian meteorological website last night, it looked like the rain might subside by mid afternoon, and so we took a chance and booked the Lysefjord ferry for the return trip down to Lyseboten at the far end of the fjord and back. Unfortunately, the weather forecast was wrong, but stoically, we did the trip anyway.

Lysefjord is a stunning narrow fjord, 42 kilometres long, known for it’s steep cliffs, amazing rock formations and blue-black colour. Many visitors come to Lysefjord to hike to it’s most famous rock formation, the Preikestolen, or Pulpit Rock – a 25 metre square table of rock, that projects into the fjord and sits 600 metres above the water. Remarkably, despite all the hundreds of visitors who flock there to stand and have their photo taken, none yet have fallen off, although with no safety rail, I’m sure with the current ‘selfie’ craze, this will only be a matter of time.

We boarded the ferry after lunch as foot passengers, although many people take their vehicles along to Lyseboten, to drive the famous 27 hair-pin bend, hideously steep road at the head of the fjord. We chickened out of this one, particularly in view of the poor weather, instead opting to see the fjord from the boat. I must admit, it was a pretty damp trip in the main, having to constantly wipe my camera lens, and dry the camera with a towel. Some might say it was atmospheric, and I guess it was. The towering black cliffs and low lying cloud certainly gave the fjord quite a forboding feel today, rather like our trip to Doubtful Sound in New Zealand. The difference being, eventually the sun broke through in Doubtful, offering us a wonderful contrast between the moody greyness and the wonderful light that then followed. Today, we had no such luck. Dark leaden clouds hung around all afternoon, and although the rain eased a little, it was not ideal. The commentary was very interesting though, as we slowly chugged our way along. On passing one farm dwelling clinging to the cliff edge, we were told that the farmer’s wife used to tie her children with rope when they went outside to play, so as not to fall down the cliff. A novel form of parenting, but I guess very practical. Pulpit Rock was a bit of an anti-climax, I’m sure better viewed from above, rather than at fjord level, but we could just spy the pinhead sized people peering over the edge – rather them than me! We also watched daredevils para-ascending down the steepest part of the cliff edge onto a tiny patch of grass. It appeared that a helicopter was depositing them at the top, and a speed boat collecting them at the bottom. Again, rather them, than me!

Sod’s Law, just as we stepped off the ferry this evening, the sun broke through and we saw the first patch of blue sky we had seen all day. This seems to be a pattern in the weather here, with much brighter weather last thing at night and into the early hours.

We headed back to the campsite for tea. Arriving back, some cheeky Germans had taken our hook up lead, which we left lying by our pitch, signifying that we were coming back. They only looked mildly apologetic as Howard asked for it back. The campsite itself is sited on an ancient archeological site, which has been inhabited for over 3,500 years. To signify this, they have built mock ups of Bronze Age and Iron Age dwellings around the site – so as I sit typing, I am looking out on a turf-roofed long-house – different, at least!

Tomorrow we will head northwards towards Bergen, which has the honour of being Europe’s wettest city.

Howard had been positively gloating abut his new purchase of the sou’wester – it has hardly been off his head since he bought it. I feel like I’m married to Captain BirdsEye! Could have been worse though – at least I stood my ground, and refused to let him buy the bright orange one! 

Today our plans changed due to the weather. We had hoped to take a boat trip from Stavanger to the beautiful Lysefjord, and it’s famous Pulpit Rock. However, the weather was so grim this morning, that we saw no point in a boat trip in the pouring rain, and instead opted to explore Stavanger.

Stavanger is a Norwegian coastal town with a population of over 210,000, and has shown much enterprise over the years. It used to be the centre of the herring industry in Norway, and led the way in the canning of sardines. Then, when the fishing declined, it diversified into ship building. More recently it has become the centre of rig production for the offshore Oil Industry. It is also an important ferry hub for many local ferry services, as well as ferries from Denmark.

Also, as we discovered to our detriment this morning, Stavanger is also a regular port of call for the huge cruise liners that travel up the western coast of Norway. Today, three such liners had just come in to dock, depositing 6,000 passengers into this modest town. They sat at the dockside, completely towering over the town. Now, I know I‘ve had a rant about this before, and I know I will yet again offend my friends who go cruising – but frankly, they were an eyesore. Any why three at at time? The gorgeous town of Stavanger was suddenly swamped with so many people, many of whom had numbers stuck on their lapels, signifying which tour group they were with, and following behind a guide with said number of her flag or stick. I really do loathe this type of mass tourism. It shows no effort or initiative. ‘Today we did Norway, tomorrow we’re doing Finland’. How such large groups of people can ever get a real feel for the place is beyond me. They must think that these places are permanently heaving. The locals, although admitting that they are good for the economy, generally loathe them too. The guy in the coffee shop just raised his eyebrows as he announced to us that the cruise ships were in town today, apologetically.

No matter, I thought. I had a plan that I thought would be foolproof. I announced to Howard over coffee that we would be visiting the ‘Sardine Canning Factory’ – no-one else would possibly want to go there. Wrong! As we arrived and bought our tickets, so did half the cruise ships passengers. I commented to the lady, that I had hoped we would be on our own. She laughed, as she explained that the cruise liners had now put it on their itinerary, as it was such an unusual museum. Yesterday, we would have had it to ourselves, but not today.

By now, we had already purchased the ticket, so thought we’d give it a go, anyway. As it turns out (don’t laugh), sardine canning has a very interesting history, and I was completely fascinated by all the different labels, many of whom bore the name ‘King Oscar’, which I thought was apt. Tuesday happens to be one of the days that they smoke herrings in the museum, so Howard sampled a couple. He also had a go at canning them – turns out he has missed his vocation! He also insisted on purchasing a new hat in the museum shop, prompted by the awful rain outside. So, it’s goodbye ‘Corky’, and hello Mr. Bright Blue Sowester (yet to be given a name!)

Our ticket to this museum, we were then told, entitled us to admission to the other three Stavanger Museums. We hadn’t really planned on any more museums, but just along the road was the Maritime Museum, so we popped in briefly. In the entrance stood an old World War 2 mine. It made me smile as I thought of my Dad. After the war, when he left the navy, he signed up to ‘The Minewatchers’, a group of volunteers, who watched out for mines left over from the war, floating down the Thames. So every Saturday morning, he disappeared off to ‘Minewatchers’! Of course, he never saw one, and clearly it was, for him at least, a chance to meet up with his old navy buddies. I think it was somewhere near Hammersmith Bridge, since once a year he took me along to the Minewatchers hut on the river, to watch the Oxford and Cambridge boat-race from a great vantage point. Upstairs, there were yet more sardine labels on display, this time from the war period. Being neutral in the First World War, the Norwegian canners cleverly adapted their labels according to their market, allowing them to sell to all sides. So there were ‘Kaiser’ labels, ‘Victorious Navy’ labels, as well as a ‘Brittania’ brand for the British market.

We then had a walk around Old Stavanger, known as Gamle Stavanger, with it’s pretty cobbled streets lined with white clapboard houses, many with beautiful floral window-boxes. On the way back to Oscar, we inadvertently wandered into the old Hippy district of Stagen, much quieter than Gamle (the cruise visitors hadn’t ventured this far), but still with beautiful white weather-boarded houses, some with some interesting graffiti.

We then continued on our way, leaving Stavanger by car ferry across the water to Tau, and headed for our campsite at the entrance to Lysefjord. As we drove here, the rain fell in stair-rods, but thankfully it has eased this evening. At least two locals told us today that he have missed the Norwegian summer. Apparently the weather was in the 30s just two weeks ago, the hottest for 47 years, but now we are back to the frequent rain that this part of the coast is renowned for. Nevertheless, we will try and make the most of it. Hopefully tomorrow the mist will clear enough for us to see something of this wonderful fjord.

In the meantime, Howard is causing quite a stir on the campsite with his new headgear!

 As forecast, it was a very wet start to the day. We were late rising, having heard the pitter patter of rain outside, and our morning dash to the wash block was exacerbated by having to remember the key number, before we could enter. That said, it was an amazingly clean and upmarket bathroom, easily equivalent to hotel quality. As is often the case, they had music playing. Last night, whilst trying to negotiate the very complex shower system, we had David Cassidy’s ‘Day Dreamer’ playing – I haven’t heard that one for years! Needless to say, we weren’t quick enough in snatching our card out of the shower control unit in time, and when we went to settle up this morning, it turned out we had used two showers worth each time either of us had showered. They turned out to be very expensive showers!

There was another VW California type camper on our site last night, but a conversion. We slyly eyed up their set-up inside, as they did ours. Being Swiss, they were incredibly organised – everything appeared to be packed into plastic boxes, and there was nothing lying round the van at all – rather sterile. Ours, on the other hand, is turning into something out of ‘Homes and Gardens’. Howard says there is no more room for any more soft furnishings, although he does agree that the cushions and rugs do add a homely touch. We have taken to flying the Saltire at the window, along with the flag of the country we are visiting. Generally, people warm to us once they realise that we come from Scotland, and the courtesy of flying our hosts flag I’m sure adds to Anglo-European relations! We very nearly asked the other VW campers if we could have a look in their van, but then had second thoughts, thinking that we couldn’t possibly show them the mess inside ours.

After breakfast, we headed back into Lillesand for a cup of coffee, and a final look around. It really is the most pleasant little town, and we really warmed to it.

It was only over coffee that we decided on our destination for today – Stavanger. We opted to share the driving, and seeing as the forecast was rain for most of the day, we determined we could reach here by early evening. We only stopped the once, at a seaside town of Mandal, really because we needed a wee. It looked pleasant enough, but it was still raining hard, so we didn’t linger.

For most of the route, the road meandered along just inside the coastline, frequently crossing inlets and small fjords over viaducts, and then the road plunging into mountain tunnels. I can’t remember how many tunnels we drove through, but I have definitely developed ‘tunnellitis’. Howard determines that it is 1,500 miles to the top of Norway, so I suspect we have plenty more to come.

It stopped raining just as we drove into Stavanger. We have washing facilities where we are staying, so we have put the washing on, Howard is cooking tea and listening to the football on the radio, whilst I do the blog. The photos have just come down from yesterday, so I will add those of Lillesand to yesterday’s blog. I have barely taken a photo today because of the rain, so I will leave you with a rather amusing board we spied in Gothenburg the other day – well, we laughed anyway!

We had a leisurely start this morning, whilst I tried, and eventually succeeded in retrieving my lost photos off the ‘cloud’. Besides, it was a damp cloudy morning, and having seen Oslo in the sunshine yesterday, we decided to continue onwards, with pleasant memories of the city.

We were very surprised by the amount of traffic on the roads today. Being a Sunday, usually it is a good day for a long journey, but the density of traffic was unexpected, especially having become accustomed to the quiet roads in Iceland, Denmark and Sweden. The driving is a little more challenging for me too, with lots of tunnels, which I loathe, especially when they go on for kilometres at a time.

Initially, we had intended just to travel a modest distance today, but having knocked a second visit into Oslo on the head, we changed our plans and headed further south towards Kristiansand. We made the error of picking the town of Sandefjord for our morning coffee. When we arrived, we discovered that they were hosting the National Cycle championships, and many of the roads were closed off for the peloton. Sandefjord was a former whaling port, and to commemorate this they have erected a rather fine fountain by the waterfront, called the Whaler’s Monument, where amid the spray emerges a slender row boat and it’s crew riding the wake of a large whale’s tail fluke. We saw little else of the town, sadly, but there appeared to be a pleasant park by the water, and I’m sure lovely vistas across the fjord.

We continued on to a town called Grimstad, another harbour town lined with white weather-boarded houses, and at one time home to Ibsen, the playwright. We did not see it at it’s best, however, since by now the rain had set in. We checked out a campsite nearby, which although situated in a pleasant waterside spot, was deserted, and a quick scout of the wash block did not really appeal. In fact, it looked pretty grim (there’s a pun there!).

A little further along the road we came to another campsite, which although did not have quite the same kerb appeal, had a pleasant lady at reception, spotless wash facilities and vacancies. Most of the pitches were fairly average, lined up alongside each other, but the advantage of a small van, is that we can fit into small spaces. We eyed up a spot overlooking the fjord, which although not officially a pitch, was ample room for Oscar. Our lovely lady said it was fine to park there, and so I the end, we have a premier spot overlooking the water – very nice indeed.

We celebrated by walking into the town of Lillesand, ten minutes or so away. By now, the rain had stopped and the evening sun had come out, casting a wonderful light across the harbour. The town itself is gorgeous, with mainly white weather-boarded houses, most with pretty well-tended little gardens, set around a picturesque harbour. We found a waterside cafe, and sat and had our supper looking out at the bobbing boats. We meandered back to the campsite via the town church, and an over-sized park bench, that Howard couldn’t resist sitting in. Being Father’s Day, all three boys had beamed in, so he was feeling pretty upbeat. It’s amazing what a little contact from home can do for your spirits on this long trip. It’s also good to have someone different to talk to! There are so many times that Howard and I open our mouths and start to say the same thing, I wonder that we don’t just give up talking to each other, and just communicate by telepathy.

Tonight, we have a new shower system to master – key code, followed by card, to be inserted until shower starts and then removed immediately, else it debits you for two showers, but with the luxury of five minutes. We won’t know ourselves!

Yet again – no photos yet. The campsite WiFi’s and 4G are failing me badly in Scandinavia. Ridiculously, it was easier to download the photos in Iceland – who would have thought?!

Today we bade farewell to Sweden and ventured into Norway. It was a bright sunny morning in Stromstad, and the coastline looked beautiful. I went off for my morning shower with optimism, but by the time I had negotiated the card entry for the shower block, the three minute timed shower, operated by said card, and the lights going out three times in the process, my frustration was growing. Perplexed why such an upmarket campsite in many respects, certainly the first to offer a high speed dishwasher in the washing up area, should reduce it’s visitors to jumping through hoops to have a shower was beyond me. Rant over, we settled down to breakfast in the sunshine. The site was much quieter this morning than last night, when it had seemed like party central.

A large group of teenagers had been swimming off the pontoon and playing exceedingly loud rap music as they swam. A Swedish youth brass band and majorette group were staying in a couple of the on-site chalets, and treated the entire campsite to an impromptu concert, followed by the arrival of two groups of local Swedes and a caravan. Unlike the newer caravans, which seem to manoeuvre onto their pitch under remote controlled motors, this was an old variety, which needed man-power to push the caravan into position. It provided us with great entertainment, as they pushed and pulled the caravan, at one point crashing into their own car, before they eventually were happy with their final position. If we had wanted an early night, we would have been sorely disappointed. The noise went on until gone midnight.

After breakfast, we quickly packed, and headed northwards. In no time at all we had entered Norway, and less than an hour later we were on the outskirts of Oslo. Having decided against the city campsite, with reviews warning of unsavoury characters lurking around the site, we opted for a cheap hotel in the suburbs, with parking for the lad. After checking in, we headed off on the metro into the city. 

First we stopped off for a bite to eat and a coffee in the very pleasant Cathedral Cafe. The sun was shining, so we sat outdoors, and picked a prime spot to people watch as we ate our lunch. Next on the agenda was the National Gallery, housing the country’s finest works of art. I was slightly amused when the man at the desk offered Howard senior citizen discount, until I discovered that he assumed that I was eligible too. Bloody cheek! I’ve got another five months to go! It must be the new hair colour, I concluded.

The National Gallery certainly lived up to it’s expectations. The main attractions is Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’, but in addition, houses many art works by famous painters such as Renoir, Cezanne, Monet, Manet and Picasso to name but a few. It was a feast for the eyes, and I thoroughly enjoyed our visit.

Culture done, we wandered down past the Palace, Parliament Buildings and City Hall to the waterfront. We sat in the sunshine and enjoyed an early evening drink, before deciding what to do next. Howard looked up boat trips online, but they all seemed to be fully booked, so we opted to walk to the Sculpture Park. But on our way, we passed by the dock where the boat trips were departing from. On a whim, Howard went to the kiosk to ask the lady if there was any availability. To our luck, there were two places left on the evening Jazz Cruise around the Oslo Fjords, and we scooped them up.

What a hoot! We sat with an American couple from Rhode Island, who thankfully loathed Trump, and a lovely couple from Worcester Park, Surrey, who lived in the same road as our friends used to live – such a small world!

We had a lovely evening, cruising around the fjords, drinking some rather nice Chablis (which turned out to cost £70 a bottle!!) and eating a shrimp supper (well that was just Howard – I don’t eat shrimps, so opted for the healthy option – a waffle!). We had some very lively chat with our American buddies, and the jazz band played all night long – it was great fun. So an unexpected end to our day, but a very pleasurable one. 

We have both thoroughly enjoyed our brief visit to Oslo. It is a lively city, with some great museums, and a strong maritime connection. The surrounding fjords are beautiful, and a very good introduction of what Norway has to offer. I suspect we will be in Norway for several weeks as we travel northwards, but first impressions are definitely favourable. Bring it on!

Last night was another very windy night. Fortunately we had the sense to move Oscar so that his back was to the prevailing wind, so protecting the pop-up to some degree. It still meant for a noisy night, with the topper flapping away, but at least it felt more secure than the previous night, when the van had rocked and jostled for much of there night.

By 3am the wind was starting to subside, and this morning we awoke to a sunny day, if still a little blustery.

After breakfast, we headed northwards, following the pretty coastal route to Stromsted. First stop was a picturesque little harbour at Hamburgsund, and a quick visit to the supermarket for some bread and essentials. Across the other side of the harbour was the island of Hamburgo, and we watched the tiny chain car ferry make it’s two minute journey across to the island and back. One wondered why they didn’t build a bridge, but this method of transport was certainly more exciting. It reminded us of the chain ferry that runs between Dartmouth and Kingswear on the River Dart in Devon.

Next on our route was a return visit to Fjallbacka, where had visited yesterday. We returned to the lovely cafe where we had enjoyed lunch in the rain. Today, however, we were able to sit outside in the sunshine for our coffee, and watch the world go by in the harbour. This is such a charming place, well off the main tourist route, but clearly a weekend destination for Swedes, since it was decidedly busier today. There was also a rally of classic sports cars starting to gather in the car park, everyone taking great pride in their gleaming chunks of metal.

We eventually dragged ourselves away and headed onwards. We passed back through Grebbestad again, looking decidedly better in the sunshine today, but also much busier. It must teem in the high season, since all along the harbourside were masses of restaurants. The fishing boats were back in harbour today, and the fish market already closed, the lobster and shrimp catch well on it’s way by now local eateries.

After a quick wander, we headed on to Stromsted, along the coast. All along this part of the Swedish coastline are large dome-shaped rocky outcrops with flat tops. Brightly painted houses are nestled in at the bases of these rocks, and frequent inlets and tiny harbours litter the coast. Inland, the countryside is incredibly green, with fields mainly growing grass for hay or pasture. The grass is left especially long at the road margins, presumably to maintain a habitat for wildlife, but looked especially fine today swaying in the breeze. Sweden is a very tidy country. Every property looks well kept, and gardens carefully tendered. The Swedes, themselves, are very stylish, even when dressed casually, and are wonderfully polite and helpful. To our shame, they also exclusively speak English as a second language.

On our way to our next campsite, approaching Stromsted, we passed a ghastly looking amusement park called Daftland. I did quip to Howard that maybe it was meant for him, having made some spectacularly bad navigating errors just moments before. Life is generally simpler if he drives, and I navigate, but when we reverse roles, I must say that neither of us are at our best! I am slowly getting used to driving the van on just the wing mirrors (we now have so much ‘stuff’ in the back that the rearview mirror has long since become redundant), but felt happiest driving it in northern Iceland, where the roads bore a strong resemblance to those around where we live in Scotland.

The seaside town of Stromsted is bustling with people and the harbour full of pleasure boats. I must admit to preferring little working harbours, and we didn’t linger long before heading to our campsite.

We have managed to bag a brilliant pitch, looking out over the water, perched high above the inlet. It is a huge site, but from where we are parked, we can only see two other vans, since we are looking towards the view. I imagine it will get busy this weekend with families, but just now it is very pleasant indeed. Our only complaint is that we can smell the mouth-watering smell of our neighbours barbecue, and we had just planned omelette for tea. So we may end up changing our menu plan – somehow, omelette had lost it’s appeal. Time to re-consider over a Hendricks, me thinks!

Still having problems with downloading photos from the cloud – will post as soon as they appear.

Last night proved incredibly windy. If we had known when we went to bed, we would have parked in the opposite direction, to protect the pop-up. But by 3am, it was too late to start moving the van. Howard, delighted with his new pillow, slept peacefully, whilst I lay awake, listening to every creak, groan and flap of the van. Howard’s new pillow didn’t help my sleep either. It is a long pillow, longer than the usual size, intended I guess as a bolster. The result of this, is that it sneaks into my half of the bed, meaning that half my head has two pillows, and the other half has one. As you can imagine, not the most comfortable of arrangements. I tried to counter my pillow-less half with a cushion from downstairs, to try to balance my head, so to speak. This only partially helped, and with the increasing wind, my sleep was definitely fitful.

By the morning, the wind had eased a little, and I fell into a deep sleep. The result of this was that we were very late getting up. By the time we eventually emerged, two of our neighbours had packed up and gone. After showering, we didn’t finish breakfast til close to eleven – disgraceful!

We eventually got ourselves together, and headed out for the day. Having missed the check-out time, we decided to stay put on this campsite for another night, but to visit a couple of fishing villages recommended to us by the receptionist in Gothenburg. Neither of these were flagged up in our Rough Guide – but she had assured us that they were both worth a visit on our journey northwards.

Our first port of call was a gorgeous little fishing village on the coast called Fjallbacka. It was indeed worth a visit – I suspect one of those places that the Swedes keep to themselves. We had a quick wander around the harbour, and then opted for a late lunch in one of the pleasant waterside cafes. We made a good choice – the food was delicious, and we were well satiated. By the time we came out of the cafe, the weather was taking a turn for the worse. Grey clouds were looming, and the wind was picking up again. Walking back to Oscar we spotted a shop that sold cushion covers in the design of nautical flags, one of which looked just like the Saltire. We couldn’t resist buying it for the van, although as Howard  said, this could be the straw that breaks the camels back! Space in Oscar is growing increasingly tight, especially since Howard acquired his monster pillow!

We continued on to the other place we had been told to visit – Grebbestad, which happened also to be the home town of my hairdresser. Once more, this was a lovely fishing village, famed for receiving the bulk of the Norwegian lobster catch. It had a charming working fishing harbour, and pretty waterside houses. The only problem was that by now the wind was ferocious, and it had started to rain. I’m quite sure on a good day, Grebbestad would look delightful, but after a quick skirt around, we decided to count our losses, and return to Oscar.

We drove back to our campsite in Kungshamm, as the weather got wilder and wilder. By the time we returned, it was raining stair-rods, and we both got drenched putting on the external topper to protect the roof.

There was nothing to it, but to batten down the hatches, have a drink or two, and have our tea. Having eaten well at lunchtime, we settled for cheese and biscuits, and a rather lovely Croatian wine from Peljesac.

As I type, the wind and rain are still lashing outside. My meteorological office from Newport (the photo girls!) have assured me that the weather will improve tomorrow, so will we keep our fingers crossed for tonight, and hope that we don’t blow away.

This morning we made our way back into Gothenburg. I can’t understand why I get myself so stressed about getting my hair cut in unfamiliar places, but I do. This time, the girl was very pleasant and thankfully spoke perfect English. She was, however, less than complimentary about the colour of my hair. ‘Who did that?, she enquired. ‘My husband, on a ferry to Iceland’, I replied. There were a few moments of silence, and then she resolved to do something about ‘the unnaturally blonde colour’ he had applied. I must admit, I had grown rather fond of it. But she was having none of it – apparently, it didn’t match my eyebrows!

So an hour later, the gunk has been applied, and she is now washing it off. She positioned the wash-bowl in such a way that it felt as if she was breaking my neck. She then proceeded to massage my scalp. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s hairdresser’s taking on this off masseuse role. She clearly couldn’t work out why I was so tense. ‘You’re hurting my neck’, I eventually volunteered. She then stopped this unnecessary ritual, and finished washing my hair. Howard arrived back just in time to watch the final flourish of the cutting. ‘What do you think?’, I asked. ‘Mmmh’, he replied.

Why are men always so ambivalent? Frankly, my eyes watered at the price, but I guess we knew that anything in Sweden was going to be expensive. Next time, I might just revert back to my handy trainee hairdresser in his boxers – much more fun!

Hair done, and repaired computer collected, we headed out of Gothenburg, and along the north coast of Gotland. We are staying on a very pleasant campsite on the coast, near a little harbour and marina. There seem to be a lot of little holiday cabins along this part of the coast – apparently the Swedes are keen on summer houses.

The pitches on the site are large, on a series of large grass fields. We parked Oscar as far away from the other tents and Big Whites as we could. In the same area as us though. is a German couple in a large white motorhome. They seem very organised, with washing lines, furniture covers, bike covers, barbecues – the lot. As we sat outside in the sun having a cup of tea, the chap was cooking his barbecue. At this point, his mobile rang, and he answered it. Although being forty yards away from us, his loud voice boomed across the camping ground. It was clearly a business call. He explained that he was doing a lot of travelling for work just now. A little later he complained that he was really very busy, and wasn’t sure if he would have the time! Howard and I were in fits of giggles. He clearly didn’t want to let on that he was away on holiday in his motorhome, cooking his barbecue. Slight frustration became apparent in his voice, as his food became cooked, and he ended the call abruptly by asking the caller to email him more information. I know eavesdropping is wrong, but it was really hard not to hear the entire conversation, and it certainly amused us!

We ended the day with a lovely walk after tea down to the harbour. No plans for tomorrow yet – we’ll take the day as it comes.

Yet again the iCloud gremlin has gobbled up my photos, but the ones from yesterday in Gothenburg have finally appeared, so I’ll post those in yesterday’s blog, if anyone’s interested.

After a cloudy start, the day brightened up considerably. By 11am the sun was shining, and the temperature started to soar. We spent most of the morning doing chores. Howard’s computer screen had imploded, flashing purple lines across he screen, so we sought out a Mac support shop, who seemed to think this was fixable, and hope to repair it tomorrow. Meanwhile, I had sought out a hairdressers and booked an appointment for tomorrow morning. Tasks completed, we set off to explore Gothenburg.

Gothenburg is Sweden’s second city. It has a population of nearly a million, and remains an important hub for container and ferry transport. Built predominantly in the 1700s on essentially marshland, it retains a canal network, that was originally used for transportation. The city was built largely by Dutch architects, who had expertise in building in low lying waterlogged land, and so many of the old buildings display a Dutch influence. Latterly, the city had a thriving industry of ship-building, up until the 1970s, when the shipyards were undercut by the cheaper Asian workforce, and the yards, which had been the beating heart of Gothenburg were forced into closure.

Today, there is evidence of much regeneration in the city’s former dockyard areas, with many new businesses and luxury flats springing up. The only hint to it’s ship-building past are the huge boat cranes that litter the harbour, left as a monument to time gone-by.

We caught the tram into the city, and stopped to orientate ourselves over a coffee and rather delicious almond pastry. Gothenburg is a university town, and the area around the university is thriving, with many open air cafes and restaurants. We then hit the shops, and purchased a few ‘must have’ items, including another feather pillow. When camping in Scotland before we left for this trip, we had always used two pillows in Oscar. For some reason, whilst packing for this trip, Howard had decided that this was an unnecessary luxury. After five months on the road, he has decided that he misses his second pillow – talk about princess and the pea!

We paid a brief visit to Gothenburg Cathedral. Inside it was light and airy, and wonderfully simplistic. Somehow, the more simple the architecture, the more impressive the building. Howard, as ever, was called on for photographic duties. It is beyond me why everyone keeps asking him to take their photos. If only they knew!

We then opted to do a sightseeing boat trip around the canals and harbour area, which was lovely. Our guide was called Oscar, so we thought it even more apt that we were on his trip. We gained a good insight into the city on this tour, and also appreciated the opportunity to just sit down and look – since by now the temperature was too hot for both of us. 

Tour ended, we headed back on the tram. Unlike the trams in Edinburgh, the tram system in Gothenburg is well used, and very efficient. Since there is no underground system in the city, the trams are used by all the workers to commute in and out of the city for work. Back at the dock area where we are staying, we enjoyed a quiet drink in the evening sunshine, followed by supper.

Hopefully tomorrow’s hair appointment won’t be too traumatic, and Howard will get his computer fixed. Then we will be heading northwards into Gotland. I’ll let you know if the princess likes his new pillow!

Today we bade farewell to Denmark, and caught the ferry to Sweden. We first drove to Freidrikshavn on the east coast of Jutland, filled up with diesel (fuel is significantly cheaper in Denmark than Sweden we had been told), grabbed a quick coffee, and then made our way to the port. Freidrikshavn is a busy port, operating several ferry routes and a hub for container vessels. There seemed to be tons of lorries in our ferry queue, and we began to doubt there would be room for us, since we were one of the last to be loaded. They actually sent ourselves and the few other camper vans up a completely separate ramp in the end, and onto a higher level on the car deck. Compared with our recent ferry experience coming back from Iceland, the deck was palatial, with room between the vehicles to actually open your car doors. The ferry was full of foot passengers from Sweden, hauling large fold-up trolleys. It turns out that alcohol is significantly cheaper in Denmark, so the thing to do is to catch the ferry across from Sweden and stock up on booze. The queue in the Duty free shop was endless. Each customer was limited to six slabs of 24 cans of lager /beer, and everyone seemed to have purchased their limit, in addition to spirits and wine. Whole families seemed to have come across for the day trip, many with push chairs, which more often than not, had substituted babies for booze!

The ferry trip was uneventful, despite our earlier fears of a rough crossing – the winds this morning on the campsite hit 40 mph, and we had to put down the roof before we had finished packing, worried that the pop-up frame would distort. In anticipation, I took the last of my Stugeron tablets, and apparently snoozed for most of the crossing.

When it was time to disembark, one small saloon car on our deck level was having so much trouble fitting all their cases of lager and beer back onto their vehicle, we feared that there wouldn’t be room for Granny and the baby. The ferry staff shouted at them repeatedly as they struggled to squeeze everything in, and in the end, they let the floor down from the higher level on top of them (not squashing them, thankfully), but trapping them until all the cars from the higher level has driven off, and the roof raised again.

We arrived in Gothenburg early evening. It is a very busy shipping port, and it took a while to negotiate the docks. We have noticed that for the first time in weeks, it starts to get dark in the evenings – a novelty after the near endless daylight in Iceland.

Tomorrow we will explore the city – we are staying a little outside the centre, overlooking the Gota alv river. We are looking forward to seeing what the land of Abba, Ikea and meatballs has to offer! Howard is already practicing his Mamma Mia moves!!