A bird shat on me today

Trelleborg is not somewhere I’d recommend for a holiday. It’s basically a ferry port. The second biggest in Sweden, apparently. Because of that, the town has the air of the transient. That’s not surprising when you consider that it was once presented as a wedding gift from the Danish Royal Family to the Swedish Prince Valdemar. Shortly afterwards, the Danish reconquered it, which seems a bit pointlessly violent. 

We were at Trelleborg, waiting for the ferry to Rostock. It was the reverse of our trip back in October. Though this time we stayed in Trelleborg. We hadn’t realised at the time but it was a good idea in October when we didn’t.

The odd thing about Trelleborg is the number of museums it lays claim to. It also claims to have the largest painting in Sweden. It’s hanging on the wall of a converted storehouse. It’s also where our hotel was.

I don’t know if it is the biggest but it needs two photos to fit in this post. This is the top half.

The whole thing depicts the various different things that go on in or have gone on in Trelleborg over the years.

Here’s the bottom half.

It was painted by Johan Falkman in 2009 and measures 66 square metres.

The painting is in the foot passenger ferry terminal which is part of the hotel we stayed in. The hotel is in a converted warehouse which was once part of a steam mill which no longer exists. The building is pretty magnificent and the rooms were very comfortable particularly because they allow dogs in them.

The reason we were staying in Trelleborg was because we had to get the dogs to a vet for worming treatment (UK requirement) and because we had to get a PCR Test for Covid. And Trelleborg had both a vet and a test centre at the port. And tomorrow we’ll be sailing over to Germany so it all made sense.

And, to be completely honest, the main pedestrianised street in Trelleborg isn’t too bad. It has to be the only town I’ve visited where the street cabinets have old town images on them. It makes a very pleasant change from the boring galvanised grey. They even include a red dot to show where you are.

That’s all well and good but it doesn’t help that the vet and the test centre are at either ends of the town and the town stretches a long way in both directions. It meant a lot of walking for us.

The Covid test came first because, to have results the same day it had to be done before 2pm but we needed as big a buffer as possible at the other end of the 72 hours. So we had to get there at about 1:30. We managed but the walk was not without its trials. The biggest trial was when a big bird decided to defecate on me as it fly over. Once on the front and once on the back of my t-shirt. It did, helpfully, avoid my hat.

Anyway, the test went fine (though Mirinda’s gag reflex kicked in earlier than mine) and we were soon headed back to the town centre. We felt we deserved a couple of drinks so we settled down into a handy street bar for a bit.

Mirinda had a meeting so she went back to the hotel while I took the dogs to see the vet.

The vet was a Swedish woman who met her husband while backpacking in Australia (where she didn’t see any big spiders) then moved to Preston, Lancashire where she worked for five years. And, her accent had hints of the north of England dotted through various words. They were now moving to Sweden. Her husband was in England selling their house and they were thinking of buying a place in the country, up the coast from Trelleborg.

When I asked if it was because of Brexit, she nodded. I commiserated and said that was one reason we were determined to eventually live in Sweden. She asked what other reasons I had. I said because I’d fallen in love with the place, the people and the food.

Dosing the dogs took less time than our conversation, and I was soon on my way back to the hotel in time to say hi and bye to Sarah.

Tomorrow we leave Sweden. It’ll be a sad day.

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