There’s a small hill in Tyresö Slott. I don’t know if it was formed naturally or part of the English Park design. Mirinda calls it The Knowle. This morning we discovered that it already had a name. It’s called Flora’s Hill.
The trees around the edge of the hill are linden trees. In the past they were pruned every year. I can only assume that this means they are no longer pruned every year. As you peer between the trees, you are presented with a sense of space as the Park spreads out below you. Flora’s Hill gives a view down to Notholmen Island.
The little pedestal used to have an urn on it. I don’t know what happened to it. Maybe they take it in during the winter months.
The café was very busy today. I figured it was because today was the last Sunday of the Christmas break and families were making the most of it. The weather had been reasonable so that probably helped. Mind you, here in Sweden, the weather doesn’t seem to affect anyone adversely. As people say “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing choices.“
This was particularly apparent when we returned to Max. The car park was almost full, with people arriving for a jolly walk around the park. Then the sleety snow started falling, whipped about by a quite cutting wind. It made no difference to anyone in the car park. Or the people we saw walking along the roads. Or the thousands of cars parked along the road to Vissvass who were clearly out for a forest romp.
Incidentally, Vissvass was once a small settlement in the Middle Ages. It was a fishing spot in the Neolithic period. These days, there is a boat shed and a sizeable marina. In the winter it’s largely empty, but I reckon it must be teeming with sailor types in summer.
We’d discovered Vissvass at the end of a long drive before heading home. We also discovered that a blue sign with a white M on it indicates a passing place on a narrow road.
Speaking of the hardy Swedes, I noticed this family huddled around the B&B on Notholmen. I don’t think they were staying there, just having brunch like us.
This is despite the fact that the café is cosy and warm inside. The Swedish people must have a pretty powerful immune system. They are also very, very hardy.
We had a visit from Anders late in the day. The dryer in the house had carked it, and he came over to check it out. He, basically, said the last rites over it before telling us all about the neighbourhood. And the changes in the weather.
He remembers, as a young man, driving down to the forest, putting on his skies and cross country’ing through the trees under sparkling winter starlight. The snow would be very deep, the night bright with the whiteness. It all sounded wonderful.
He also told us about a house just along the road which a man left to his two sons. The brothers had a quite serious falling out. They built a wall in the middle of the house and divided the plot in two. The boundary line of the plot now goes straight through the house.
You’d think if you disliked someone that much, you’d move rather than put up a wall. But then, there’d be no story.
