Going home

And so the long journey back to Farnham began. Not at the crack of dawn and not in a rush. Nicoline said we could take our time because there were no bookings for today. “No cows on the ice…” Subsequently, we didn’t leave till just gone 1pm.

And the only reason we left then was because we were meeting Nina in a garage to witness the worming.

Actually, that didn’t go as smoothly as it should have. The garage she suggested turned out to be a different garage. Still, we eventually found her and fed the girls their tablets while she filled out their passports.

It was then just a case of driving south.

We had a stop at about halfway so Mirinda could have a break. We wandered around a pleasant enough rest spot, which conveniently had toilets and a standing table. I do wonder at people who are having a break from driving who get out of their car then just sit down again.

It was here that we met Elva. Originally English, she’s lived in Sweden for 30 years. She loves living in Sweden but isn’t keen on the unfriendly Stockholmers.

We started chatting because she had a freshly clipped Cavapoo and, as all dog owners know, dog owners naturally chat.

We told her about our plans and about being Australians. She agreed that Trosa was lovely and an excellent choice.

Eventually, we parted ways and headed further south, reaching the Hotel Småland in the light.

We had dinner in the truck stop café then hit the bed. Tomorrow Trelleborg.

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