Travelclög Sweden

In 1988, I made my first visit to Scandinavia with a trip to Denmark, our first family holiday to a foreign country. It has taken twenty five years to return to this part of the world, this time for a cycle holiday to south west Sweden. The journey from Slough to Heathrow had a Swedish flavour as we travelled in one of First Group’s new Volvo diesel electric hybrid buses. These start off on electric power like a milk float but then the diesel engine cuts in, all very hi-tech but not so ideal when you have a big bag to store and some useful storage space is eroded by the presence of the battery pack. Our tour company was there ahead of schedule to issue us with the tickets and after spending some time raiding the promotional stands in Duty Free, it was time to board our flight. SAS were very efficient in their boarding procedures and we were soon underway for our smooth flight across to Sweden.

When we arrived at Gothenburg Landvetter airport, it was obvious we were in Sweden as the arrivals hall had a Volvo S60 sitting atop the baggage carousel and an entire wall with a mock-up of the new Volvo FH tractor unit. After the formalities of collecting the baggage, we went out to the coach that was waiting to transfer us to the island of Stennungson, around 50 km north of Gothenburg. We learned that one of our fellow holidaymakers had missed the plane but would turn up the next day.

On arrival at the Stennungsogarden resort, our coach had a lot of difficulty in navigating the poorly lit roads and the driver even sent someone up the hill to try with a torch to find if there was room for the coach to turn around. After the driver was satisfied that he could navigate the final 200 metres, we then went to the reception building where we learned about our roommates. I was placed in a room with a fellow Scotsman from Edinburgh and a very well-spoken gentleman from West London. The latter of these probably could never have imagined that he’d be rooming with “sweaties” considering the tour company is based in the south east but just like a lesser-known Abba song, it was two for the price of one.

 

Our resort was in a very nice location and had a few accommodation blocks scattered around the site along with a large white building where all our meals were served. The main dining room had views across the water. There was also a church in the middle of the site that could be used for quiet prayerful contemplation and there were regular services there also. Unlike other churches I have seen, this was a triangular shaped place of worship, it can only be assumed that this was a gift to Stennungsogarden from previous visitors, Mr and Mrs Toblerone.

 

 

 

Our tour company was Oak Hall travel, a company with a Christian background whose customer base is largely drawn from the church community. During the week, we had an interesting talk on the history of Oak Hall where we learned of their venture into Serbia with humanitarian aid following the Balkans war. The tour company had provided a team of three volunteers were on the trip to look after the holidaymakers, all of whom helped to contribute to the success of the trip.

The first day of cycling was a short trip to the island of Tjörn. There were almost 40 people on the trip and we were divided into three groups, depending on ability. I decided to bring some Pro-Tour cycle team tops for the holiday and wore a bright orange Euskatel Euskadi jersey for our first cycle. After setting out with the fastest group, we headed for the imposing Tjörnbron cable stayed bridge that took us from one island to another. Our route through the island was quite straightforward and we had a rendezvous point for all three groups around 13 km into the journey, there was also some heavy showers to contend with. The round trip of around 26 km was designed to help us get used to the bikes and size up the ability of the group. The bikes themselves were almost new but were ideal for urban use though did make fast touring quite difficult as they were heavy. My bike had 7 gears though some had only 3, although one lucky person had a 21 gear hybrid and were very difficult to catch on all of the cycle trips.

 

 

 

There was an organised activity some evenings, the first of these was known as ‘Challenge’, though was pronounced as ‘challonge’. This involved groups being asked to fulfil a challenge like naming a number of Abba songs in 30 seconds and then another group would have to decide if they could beat that number. There proved to be some interesting abilities in the gathering including someone who recited over 40 elements in the periodic table in less than 30 seconds and someone who was able to name all 66 books of the bible in 20 seconds.

 

After activity time, people would sit down in the common room just chilling out. Whenever, there are groups of strangers round a table, this prepares the way for the arrival of riddles and mind games man. He is quite easy to spot with his cool and calm game show host demeanour and can be seen armed with his rapier of choice, the pack of cards. He is able to understand every permutation of game play in a way that baffles mere mortals. There were occasional challenges to his supremacy on the riddles front but these were usually shot down with the speed and efficiency of Israel’s Iron Dome missile defence system taking out a missile from Gaza. Any pretenders to the throne seem to forget that whilst their brain is devoting processing power to motor functions etc, riddles and mind games man is playing cognitive keepy-up with his left brain.

I did sit with one of the other groups who were playing a popular card game called Skip Bo. This was all very intellectual and serious to start with but in a moment of comedy brilliance, one of the group seriously suggested that we play snap instead, insisting “it’s a good game”. The game of snap duly commenced and it turned out to be the most fiercely competitive game I have been involved with. I did manage to win only one round though it was more of a relief to escape with all my fingers intact. This sort of spontaneous tomfoolery would certainly not have happened on the watch of riddles and mind games man.

Our second day of cycling involved a trip to the island of Orust which lay to the north of our base. I set out on this journey with my Orica Green Edge jersey. Our group had diminished in number from about 16 to 11 and the middle group of cyclists gained a few more people. The first leg of our journey involved a 15km cycle on the mainland towards a ferry that would transport us on the short voyage to the island. On arrival, our group found a nice secluded spot down by the shorefront where we spent some time having something to eat and taking in the view, overlooking the Marina at Svanesund. I overheard our English tour guide say that the view reminded him of Largs in North Ayrshire. After leaving the coastal town, we headed over the hill into the heart of the island. We had been making good time and our group leader decided to take us on some country roads to see the island from an alternative perspective. Our rendezvous point with the other groups was at the club house of a golf course in the northern part of the island. Our group also made a quick stop off at the coastal hamlet of Stillingsön with views across to the mainland. Each day, we had to climb up a short but steep little hill to reach the resort at the end of the journey, this was quite challenging on our heavy bikes with few gears.

 

 

 

 

One of the wider group had come on the holiday to get back into cycling with a view to undertaking a long, multi-week coastal tour of Ireland next year. Unfortunately, due to a cycling injury, his Swedish cycling career was cut short though he did manage to become something of a local restaurant critic in the remaining days and someone jokingly suggested that he would be the only person to put on weight on a cycle holiday.

Our first rest day involved a trip to Gothenburg. There was a decent mix of people in the gathering, with both of my roommates, the two guys who roomed across from us, our flight dodging colleague and two of the ladies who helped to add a degree of respectability to the group. The trip should cost 75 SEK each way but only card payments are accepted on the bus and the machine happened to be broken which meant that the 8 of us didn’t need to pay. Sitting close together were the Scottish contingent of your faithful Clogger, my roommate from “auld reekie” and the well-spoken lass who thrived on being the only Glaswegian in the holiday group. The three of us were taking the opportunity to discuss issues like the rivalry between our two biggest cities and Irn-Bru adverts (as I type, I am ignoring Microsoft Word putting a red line under the name of our other national drink). Our English friend decided that he would wind us up by bringing up England’s recent unconvincing 3-2 win against Scotland in a football friendly match. The Clog is a publication that treats confidentiality seriously, so all we will say is that this gentleman may or may not have been called Steve. Without speaking, it was clear that our merry band of Scots would keep this matter in mind and seek to make him eat his words later.

Following our arrival in the city, we walked to the tourist information venue then around some of the city centre before sitting down for a nice bit of cake and hot chocolate before making our way into the City Museum. This museum focused on the history of Gothenburg from the inauguration of the city in 1621. The city was built by the Dutch as the Swedish rulers were keen to take advantages of the expertise in building on marshland and strong trade connections. There was a great deal of information on the sea faring history of the city and a large collection of artefacts from the different ages of the city history. It was interesting to learn of some Scottish influence in the city through Dundonian industrialist Alexander Keiller who founded a major shipyard. My London based roommate was acting as tour guide for our group, mainly because everybody was so relaxed and going with the flow that we needed someone to bring some order to proceedings. He also managed to translate some of the Swedish information boards though we couldn't work out if this was down to an all-consuming air of brilliance or recognising one or two words and building a narrative.

 

There was also a Viking display featuring parts from a ship from that era.  One of the more amusing elements of the museum was a dressing up room where it was possible to try on authentic period costumes. Our friend who work in the performing arts sector took to this with some relish and some of us also decided to join in. The picture below shows some of the highlights including a portrait of Napoleon who seems to be wearing a hi-viz cagoule.

 

 

 

Away from the museum, The city was very lively as it was the last day of a 5 day festival and there was an international carnival with quite a strong South American representation.

 

 

 

A good way to see the city is on a boat trip as there are many waterways around the city. Before entering the harbour area, we had to pass under a bridge known as the hairdryer and we were told to crouch down on the floor as we passed under this bridge. I believe that it wouldn’t have been possible to pass under the bridge sitting upright on the seat though your head would have become detached.

 

Whilst we were sailing around the largest port in Scandinavia, the gigantic Stena line ferry, Stena Jutlandica, arrived from Frederikshavn in north east Denmark. The voyage across the strait of Skagerrak takes three hours by ro-ro ferry or two hours by Stena HSS fast craft. We were told that the Swedish founder of Stena Line, Sten Allan Olsson, recently passed away at the age of 96 earlier in the summer. The city had a ship building heritage, with four shipyards in the harbour area but only one remains in the present day.

 

Another great sight in the harbour was the largest sailing ship built in Scandinavia, the Viking. This magnificent four masted ship has found a home in Gothenburg over the last 60 years, although was built in Denmark. Today, she is a floating hotel and known as the Barken Viking. Behind the ship is another Gothenburg icon, the “Lipstick Building”, this famous building has a mixture of office space and shopping outlets. There is also a lookout point on the top floor that offers panoramic views of the city.

 

The maritime museum was another major feature of the harbour. Near to the main building, it was possible to see the large tower in honour of Swedish sailors who perished in WW1, featuring a sailor’s wife looking out for her husband. At the quayside, there was a historic sailing ship and further upstream was a collection of historic warships.

 

Our third day of cycling was Tjörn again. I decided to wear my Saxo Bank jersey on this day that involved a longer cycle further to the further reaches of the island. As our group was the fastest, we took a longer route and were rewarded with a stop at Klädesholmen, a small island next to Tjörn. This was quite a sleepy little place that appeared to have many holiday homes. We also stopped off in the picturesque coastal town of Skärhamn, a town where the church had a smiling face. Our return route was relatively flat though one of our group had a mechanical problem when the chain came off as he started a short climb with quite a steep gradient.

 

 

In the evening, we had a quiz and the group was divided into teams. I managed to blag my way into a good team by showing great aptitude for knowing random facts that no one else knew. There was a fair bit of intellectual ballast in our ranks which helped us through many difficult questions. Our team was victorious, gaining 25 points over the four rounds and edging our nearest opponents into second place by one point, though this was a relief considering our team name was “Sweden very well”.

 

For the final day of cycling, I decided to wear the distinctive dark blue livery of Team Movistar, though was asked on by different people why I didn’t wear a Team Sky jersey, demonstrating the impact that 2 consecutive Tour de France wins has had on the British public. Our route involved a 50 miles round trip to Kungälv which started off at a gentle pace on the flat roads to Jörlanda, tracking some of the route from the bus trip. We then went across some countryside roads, heading towards the coast though surprisingly we didn’t go to the popular holiday and party resort of Marstrand. Finally we arrived at our destination, the magnificent Bohus Fästning. This old fortress sits on the old Norway-Sweden border and came under Swedish rule in 1658. Following the handover to Sweden, the fortress became used less used and has been redundant since the 18^th century. The route back to Stennungson took us via a nature reserve area with some undulating terrain.

 

The weather was very pleasant and our tour leaders suggested that we go down to the shorefront and start a campfire. Inevitably, some campfire songs started up and someone innocently suggested that we sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot which immediately caused a rebellion with everyone in the gathering who wasn’t English. This was another pleasant evening with much banter as we sat on the shore from sunset till the moon made an appearance.

 

 

 

 

Our second rest day commenced with a game of beach volleyball on the site. I was suffering with an injury to my lower arm, but the pain seemed to be forgotten when I learned that the teams were being divided along national lines and the first match was Scotland versus England. The Clog is a publication that tries to be even-handed and the events of the volleyball will be described without bias in the following paragraphs.

 

The English team fancied their chances as they lined up looking very cocky and pleased with themselves.  The first match with Scotland was quite a tense affair though the English took a commanding lead before Scotland roared back. Unfortunately, after narrowing the deficit to 14-12, the plucky Scots were narrowly edged out with the next point.

 

There was also a Celtic alliance team consisting of some Northern Irish and a Welsh girl. They were a player short and enlisted the help of our Latvian tour guide who happened to have played volleyball for many years. This team had some really sporty types including triathlon and marathon runners but somehow didn’t gel as a unit. It all seemed to go wrong like when France tried to defend the World Cup back in 2002. In saying that, there was no doubting that they meant business considering some of the scary faces that would be pulled as they faced down their opponents. Had the volleyball net disappeared and a game of Gaelic football or hurling broken out, there would’ve been only one winner.

 

As the second match with the auld enemy drew near, the fearless and matchless Scottish team coolly strolled on to the battlefield in a manner reminiscent of David Sole and the 5 nations Grand Slam heroes of a bygone age. Looking to the other side of the net, they saw the motley collection of mouthy northerners and soft southerners that had been spewed out of the English nation onto the volleyball court. At this moment, everyone on the tartan side of the net instantly smelled blood and revenge was in the offing.

 

Following the valiant defeat in the first game, it was clear that the Scots were on a mission for revenge. Our team consisted of a good mix of youth and experience with everyone playing a part. Our charge was built on some excellent serving by Mike, who seemed to have developed a laser, rocket arm in the style of NFL Quarterback, Peyton Manning. Our veteran, exiled Scotsman also proved to be a real stalwart, the ball stayed hit whenever he punched it, in the same way that Ricky Hatton stayed hit under a Manny Pacquiao barrage. After the English came back like the bad guys who refuse to die in an action movie, the Scots built up a commanding lead. At 14-10, a booming serve flew over the net causing much panic and fumbling in the England ranks, they think it’s all over, it is now. The Scots were able to bask in the glory of a resounding 27-25 aggregate win over the two matches as the English left with their sorry tails between their legs.  It is important to draw inspiration from other media sources when compiling a blog, though maybe adopting the narrative style of DPR Korea workers party paper ,Rodong Sinmun, was not the best practice.

 Admittedly, two of our team didn’t sound too Scottish although one of these honorary Scots has lived in Edinburgh for the last 5 years which is more than enough to qualify for citizenship. It is difficult to recall the reason why our heroic, silver fox qualified for our team, whether it was through Scottish blood or number of visits to the northern outpost of the UK. None of this really matters considering the Scottish Football Association selected a Jamaican player on spurious grounds like his granny wrapped him in a tartan shawl as an infant.

After the hostilities in the morning, we all did the logical thing in the afternoon by walking across to Stennungsund to have a nice lunch down near the marina. The local yacht club was touted as a possible lunch venue, but this was quashed when we saw some of our group beat a high speed retreat from the venue when they saw that a prawn sandwich cost around 170 SEK. When we found an agreeable local restaurant, some of our gang could scarcely hide their delight at finally getting to consume some Swedish meatballs after almost a week in the country. Through the week, there had been some desperation at not getting to eat this traditional delicacy that there was even talk of visiting the well-known Michelin starred venue of the Ikea restaurant in Gothenburg. I decided to opt for a prawn salad, small cake and a coke which came to 135 SEK. In addition, the venue also allowed customers to help themselves to tea, coffee and bottled water. There was also time for some souvenir hunting before the walk back across to the island.

 

Our final day offered some time for some last minute sightseeing and we decided to take a walk around some of the island. The final hour at the site had a degree of drama as a fire alarm went off, triggering the local fire brigade into action as a Dodge Ram rapid response unit and Volvo estate car was scrambled to the scene. Everyone was speculating on the cause of the alarm and my money was on the two dodgy characters in the room across from us, as at least one of them was in their room for a few moments after the alarm was raised. These suspicions were on the basis of no smoke without fire rather than prima facie evidence, though in the end it was no smoke or fire as the problem was related to some anomaly with sensor in the reception building.

 

 

Our airport transfer took 1 hour and it was nice to see some of the coastal views for the last time as we came off the island and travelled alongside the coast for a few kilometres. We arrived back at Landvetter airport around 3 hours before take-off and spent time chilling out in the coffee shop. As we cruised at 36000 feet, reflecting on a lovely week away with some great people, I took a look out of the window and my last view of Scandinavia was of the North Sea meeting the golden sands of the west Jutland coast, bringing back memories of that childhood holiday from long ago.