Our final Värmland morning saw the cottage bathed in mist and strained sunlight. The mist gradually cleared and, by the time the packing and tidying was completed, the day was bright and blue. It made a change from the days of rain we’d been ‘enjoying’.
The drive back to Trosa was punctuated by two planned stops and one unplanned when a ginger cat decided to cross the road in front of us. It was fortunate there wasn’t a massive great truck bearing down on us because I doubt it could have avoided us as successfully as we did the cat.
Apart from that skidding blip, the drive home was uneventful. Well, if you ignore the Tiguan rejecting the cable I was using to connect the phone to its brain. It meant the maps kept vanishing. Still, we managed to find somewhere for Mirinda to stretch her legs and have a coffee, just beyond Karlskoga.
It was a lovely spot (like so many Swedish rest stops) with a big restaurant/cafe sitting on the edge of a lake. It was called Lake lodge – Sjökrog and is quite the popular stopping spot. And it’s easy to see why. As well as light snacks and coffee, they also serve full meals. And, on a gorgeous day like today, there’s a large outside area full of tables where you can eat and stare off into the watery landscape.
In fact, there’s only one thing wrong with it. The constant traffic on the E18 was extremely noisy. As well as the eatery, there are also a few motel type rooms. I’m not sure that I’d be able to sleep there. And it wouldn’t just be the noise; I reckon the rumbling would be hard to ignore as well.
Not that that was a problem for us as we climbed back into the car, suitably rested and headed off for our second stop, Stora Sundby slott.
It stands in a massive park of around 3,800 acres and hugs Lake Hjälmaren, the fourth-largest lake in the country. It sits as unobtrusive as a carbuncle, fantasy elements abounding as its turrets reach into the sky. On such a blue day as today, it looks somewhat unreal. I thought it looked awful; I was alone in my opinion.
It was based on the castle in Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe and would have been better had it remained in the pages of a book. It is the result of too much money and too little taste.
In the 19th century, Count Carl de Geer moved into an existing castle. His wife, Ulrika, wasn’t impressed with the place and told him she wanted something a bit more showy. He was one of the wealthiest Swedes alive at the time. He sent a request to Peter Frederick Robinson in Scotland. Robinson was the architect of Scott’s home, Abbotsford House. The architect replied with a series of plans.
The Count then employed Master Builder Abraham Nyström to make Robinson’s drawings real. It took Abe 16 years but he finally finished and, in 1848, the confection we saw today was unveiled.
Actually, the inside was not largely changed. It’s a bit like Castle Street in Farnham whereby the outside of the building was clad in frosting, hiding the old-fashioned castle behind it. Which is odd. If Ulrika disliked the old castle, why didn’t she get Carl to change the inside? It’s not like she’d see the outside very often. Unless, of course, she just wanted to impress the neighbours with her lack of taste.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I was fascinated by it and would love to go on one of the guided tours inside but there’s no way I’d call it attractive.
We walked along a lovely woodland track in order to see if the castle was improved with distance (it wasn’t) and came across a massive duck colony.
It wasn’t the only bird encounter as Jason swam out to a small rocky island and managed to cause the mass evacuation of about 62,000 seagulls. They left the small island covered in guano, eggs and the bodies of dead friends.
While Jason was sitting, contemplating the world from his rocky spot, we visited the rather Spanish café and enjoyed some seriously good sourdough open sandwiches.
We went and collected Jason only to find a naked man and his family, splashing around at the edge of the lake. While unexpected, it was largely ignored. I love the Swedish lack of stupidity. He obviously didn’t have any swimmers but really wanted to join his family in the water. Easily fixed. Strip off.
A while later, all suitably refreshed, we headed out on the final leg of our trip home.
Back in Trosa, Jason cooked pasta (I was still on holiday) and, afterwards, we watched Spain beat France in the Euros.
A lovely, relaxed end to a wonderful holiday break.
