Just one more adventure...before we go...

Oct 1: A pinch and a punch for the first of the month, so the saying goes. For us it is also another 'can you believe it, pinch me quick' moment! It's our very last week before we come home to New Zealand and we're on our way to Sweden. 

We are up early - 4am to be exact - to get to Heathrow to catch our plane to Arlanda airport in Stockholme. 


We have no true understanding of what Sweden will be like but are looking forward to catching up with our friends, Anja and Dan and their two little boys, Hugo and Lukas. We are excited, to say the least.

It takes just over two hours to fly to Arlanda and we are lucky to have some good views on the way of the coastlines of England, Holland,
Denmark and Sweden. 


At Arlanda we fill in a two-hour wait to catch a train to Falun, situated right in the heart of Dalarna, our destination for seven days. We are pleased to find people here easily speak and understand English. 


With help, we manage to catch the right train going in the right direction. Our journey takes us past many small lakes, waterways, wide open grasslands and dense forests. The autumn colours become more intense as we travel further up the country - all shades of brilliant yellows and deep rustic reds.

We can't help but notice the colour of the houses and the fact that they are nearly all built from timber. Falun Red, we discover later, is the main house paint colour, with white trims around the doors and windows.  


We strain our necks, our noses or at least a camera lens, pressed against the glass, in hope that we will see a moose or wild bear but neither eventuates.

Dan, Anja and Hugo

Max takes every opportunity to hold 
baby Lukas and is helped by Hugo 

Two hours later, we arrive in Falun and are met by Dan at the station. It's great to see another kiwi and he thinks so too. We are whisked away to their flat on the edge of town. 


It's a great reunion - to see Anja, Dan, Hugo and their latest little boy, Lukas, just one month old and so very cute!

We never expected to come to Sweden and visit our friends, but where there is a will there is a way and, of course, being so close in the UK, the opportunity is just too good to miss.

After a delicious meal cooked by Anja and a catch up, we all head off to get the keys and pay for our flat. 


Our flat for the week costs 1050 kronor (equivalent to 30 dollars a night) plus we are lucky as it has just been refurbished and is very nice too. 

The flat is in the same housing compound area as Anja and Dan's.

These are large two-storey buildings with up to 16 flats that surround central playgrounds. 


There are many of these buildings and it is easy to get lost, as they all look much the same.
 

Café Skyttepaveljongen

Our week is wonderful mix of spending time with our friends, exploring Falun, visiting the sights and trying new food.

Max gets to meet expats from America and Australia as well as local folk when he and Dan go to watch an early morning Warrior’s game. Meanwhile, I experience the fun of taking Hugo to a kid's gym session with Anja and then enjoy coffee at a nearby cafe, Café Skyttepaveljongen, housed in an old shooter's club pavilion built, from logs, in 1905. 

Coffee, here, is self-serve from a coffee pot and a selection of eclectic cups and saucers. The dark interior and rustic furniture is warm and inviting.


Our flat is within walking distance to the supermarkets and we find Lidl, an interesting store that sells food and specially priced goods such as bike and fishing gear amongst other things (in the UK, the store is called Aldi).

I struggle with the currency and find it easier to convert it to pounds to work out the cost: 10 kronor = 1 pound. We carry 20, 50, 100 & 500 kronor notes - Max feels like Jed Clampert on Beverley Hillbillies with wads of notes in his wallet. Lots of notes but nowhere near the same dollar/pound value. We find prices for food similar to France.

Buffet lunches are popular in Sweden and we get the opportunity to visit at least three different buffet-style cafes/restaurants. Here we try raw fish, salami made from horse meat, yummy bread varieties, Knäckebröd (large rounds of Swedish crispbread), scrumptious cheese wedges and delicious homemade soups.

We visit the Darlarna Museum and get an overview of the area and its history. We view the different costumes and clothing worn by people in the past and get an understanding of the hard winters they faced. We also learn about Midsummer's Day where tall and elaborately decorated may poles are erected, followed by dancing and celebrating.

On a day’s outing Anja takes us to Lake Siljan. Here we stop firstly at Hemslöjoen, an accommodation complex of grass-roofed cottages, then lunch at the Hotell Lerdalshöjden in Rattvik, overlooking the lake.

Our drive takes us off the main road, through little villages and winding our way around the lake until we find the home of the Dala horse at Nils Olsson Hemslöd in Nusnäs.

The Dala horse, a small wooden painted ornament, is a national icon. These cute little horses are machine-cut, hand-carved, hand-dipped in paint, and then finished in a traditional hand-painted pattern. 

They are expensive to buy - a small horse of only 4-5cm high costs 125 kronor (approx. $25). Luckily, I find one twice the size at a second hand shop in Falun for only 8 kronor (normally 250 kronor for that size - approx. $50).

The Olssen brothers started carving the horses in 1928 and the Dala horse has been handmade in Nusnäs ever since that time. 

Here you visit the workshops and see the various stages of production through to the end result. Two large stores across the road from each other offer a whole range of traditional Swedish arts and crafts-style souvenirs.

Many are painted in bright colours and traditional patterns.

We continue on to Mora situated at the top of the lake, then the road takes us around the opposite side of the lake and back towards Falun. 

We travel through large forestries, where Anja points out the rather spindly-built timber stands used during the moose hunting season – the hunter waits, with his gun, perched on this while others walk though the forest driving the moose to within shooting range of the hunter. A successful drive might yield as many as 10 moose.

Unfortunately, we don’t see any moose on our outing, nor any bears or wolves during our stay. 

However, Max is quite relieved as he heard a story about a massive bull moose wandering across the road in front of a big truck - luckily both escaped unharmed.

A stay at Falun is not complete without a visit to the Falu Coppar, Stora Kopparberget, a World Heritage site of the Falun coppermines.

Our guide tells us that the tour will be in Swedish – we should have come the day before, she says. However once the tour group gathers around she asks if they all understand English and we are in luck – they all agree to an English version of the tour.

The huge mine pit was created when an underground cavern collapsed in the 1700s - luckily it was Midsummer's Day and all the miners were above ground celebrating in the town so no-one was killed.

The copper mine was finally closed in 1992 and today over 80km of tunnels still remain. 

We don hard hats and waterproof capes and gingerly tread down hundreds of steps, through dimly lit, dripping tunnels until we are in the very heart of the mine, some 70 metres below the surface.  

It’s an eye opener to get an idea of the kind of conditions the miners once endured – at one stage our guide shuts off all our lighting and we experience the complete darkness and isolation that would have been felt by the miners when  flame of their wooden torches died out. They would have to call out and drop to their knees and crawl along the mine shaft until they found someone.

In its hey day, in the 1700s, the copper mine was the treasury of Sweden and indeed, the town of Falun was once the second largest city in Sweden. Now it’s a quiet community where people ask us what on earth we are doing here. Visiting friends, we quite proudly reply.

Kanelbullen and Vaniljbullar (delicious buns with vanilla custard inside)

 After an interesting tour, we enjoy coffee at nearby Café Bagarstugen and here we also try Kanelbullen, a delicious Swedish cinnamon bun, and discover later that is also Kanelbullens Day, Oct 4. 

We then walk back to our flat through the older area of Falun, past the miners houses.

Falun is also known for its Lugnet Ski Jumps. To get there we take the forest path that winds through the trees. We imagine we might see a moose or bear but still nothing eventuates. The ski jumps sit against the hillside and tower above the town. Built in 1974, they’re old and in need of repair now. We walk up the hillside beside them to get an idea of the heights involved in this popular winter sport. The jumps are due to be renovated and upgraded for the World Ski Championships in 2015.

I take Max along to the Café Skyttepaveljongen to experience this amazing log pavilion, its coffee and food, its rustic ambiance. We try golashsoppa with bröd – a delicious goulash soup and bread.

Our last full day in Sweden is spent with Anja, Dan and boys. We head off in two cars around LakeRunn , stopping for coffee at Torslang where we also peer into a vacant house that is for sale and beside the local church. Prices for homes are quite reasonable. This property has a main house and a cottage but the house comes as is and without a kitchen.

We check out the earth cellar used to store perishables. The property is near a waterway the leads both to a bigger river and the lake. When Dan sees old photos of flooding in the area, he’s not quite as keen to buy. However, the area is picturesque, well sought after and perfect for boating.

Sweden, we discover, has around 90,000 lakes and most of these freeze over in winter making them ideal for ice skating, curling, kitewinging (like windsurfing on skates) and ice fishing. 


We find it hard to imagine a metre or more of snow on the ground with temperatures ranging from -20 to -30 degrees and only six hours of daylight during the long winter months. 

Keeping warm is essential in this colder climate so not only do the homes have central heating but during the colder months, people also plug their cars into a heating system to stop the engines from freezing and also keep the inside warm.

 

We carry on to Borlänge, where we stop for lunch Rommehedslägret (the old Rommehed barracks), the meeting place and parade grounds of the Dala Regiment between 1796 and 1908.

It’s a wonderful way to finish our week in Sweden in the company of good friends enjoying good food and good coffee.

Sat 8 we have a two hour train trip back to Arlanda and then on the plane back to London. It’s our 150th day on the road. So hard to believe that we have been away for so long and only living out of a suitcase the whole time…

We have mixed emotions as our journey comes towards an end – we are keen to get back home and catch up with family and friends AND sleep in our own bed but feel we could easily carry on exploring new places, meeting new people and expanding our knowledge of the world. We go home to work and plan another trip, Max declares. And I agree. We’d love to do this all over again.

Sun 9 we meet a lovley couple from Christchurch in the lobby while watching the world cup rugby. Max loans them our TomTom to help them navigate their three week holiday. Later, we are joined by our friend Steve and then picked up by our homesit friends, Sophie and Chris and whisked off to lunch at the Wentworth Golf Course in Virginia Water.

It’s a stunning buffet luncheon, where the wearing of t-shirts, track pants, flip-flops and trainers are not permitted. We manage to find suitable clothing and footwear that get us in. The first class food is delicious and the desserts divine. Waiters flit around us, whisking our plates away, and Max even discovers a rest room attendant waiting to attend to his every need.

It’s a lovely finish to our five-month OE, catching up with the people who initially welcomed us into the country when we were wide-eyed with wonder.

Weds 12… Our home-coming has been great, catching up with family and friends, reflecting and sharing.

How do we feel about being back home? We’re OK. Max has a new job to start and I have oh so many stories to write and photos to edit (nearly 5000 of them).

We thank everyone who came along with us on our journey, for religiously reading the blog, for your feedback and staying in contact with us – we loved sharing our adventures with you.


We've been kiwis2go on-the-go for just over 5 months, visited 5 countries, rode on 15 trains, slept in 35 beds, taken nearly 5000 photos and traveled over 50,000 km ...

Oh, and we’ll let you know when the book comes out... and the next adventure!

 

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Of castles and roses…where simple pleasures endure

Frid 23 When you fall off a horse (or a bike for that matter), the best thing to do is to face your fears and get straight back on.

For us, our canal boat journey in France was fraught with difficulties and rotten weather, so it is with a bit of apprehension combined with excitement that we pack for a weekend on the canal, organised by our good friend, Grant.

We travel by car for over an hour to the Shropshire Union Canal at the Bunbury Lock in Shropshire. It is here that we meet our home-on-water for the weekend – a dark navy, forty-foot long, steel hulk of a narrow boat. Owned by a colleague of Grant’s, we are lucky to be able to rent the boat for the weekend.

A short walk along the towpath and there it sits, waiting for us quietly in anticipation (thankfully facing in the direction we want to go). It has no name so it’s hard to think of it in the feminine, as a she. ‘Simple Pleasures’ come to mind should it ever need a name.

For boating on these canals in these long, extended, caravan-like boats is a simple pleasure… a long, slow pleasure where the rush of life slows down to a swish of water, the put-put of an engine and call of water fowl from the banks. At only 4mph, life couldn’t get much slower or simpler.

Our boat houses two sofas that pull out into double beds – one at each end of the boat, a kitchenette with gas cooktop, a mini bathroom with toilet and shower, and a pot belly stove.

We stow our gear and Grant starts the engine. Soon, we are ambling our way along the canal. The water here isn’t a pretty blue but rather a muddy brown. I am pleased to report that our loo does not flush into the river as it did in France, so we are eco friendly on this trip.

The canal is not overly wide, with just enough room for two boats to pass each other in some areas and in other areas there is space for boats to moor along the banks.

As we come to the Calvery Service Station (for boats), we glide past many moored narrow boats – it's like a solemn guard of honor with great, long, sleeping hulks on either side of our boat.

Curtains pulled, motors silent, no sign of human life and deadly quiet, except for the soft hum of our motor and the intermittent whistling of the swallows as they swoop above our heads and then fly at speed over the water toward us.

Our destination is by the Olde Barbridge Inn, where we will tie up and head to the pub for our evening meal. It takes just an hour to get there.

Living on the narrow boat is an experience; any sudden movement will tip the boat sideways due to its narrow-ness and length.

Our boat is small compared to others we see – some up to 70 feet long. The boats are steered with a tiller from the back of the boat, they take a bit of handling and manoeuvring, but with time and patience, this is soon mastered.

Sat 24 The sun is up and heavy dew covers the ground. The surrounding countryside is fresh and picturesque. I almost expect to see D’Arcy (Pride & Predjudice) striding across the field; his coat tails flapping behind him and his knee-high boots damp and shiny. He doesn’t appear.

Instead, Grant, Max and I follow the towpath to the little stone bridge and head back to the inn to watch the NZ vs France world cup game. The cleaners kindly let us in.

With an All Black win under our hats, we set sail for Hurleston Junction, where we turn right into the Welsh Llangollen Canal. It is here that we face our first set of locks – a staircase of four locks.

It’s both exciting and nerve wracking, so I choose to stay on land and help manhandle the manually operated locks – opening and closing the heavy gates and cranking the water valves open or closed.

The locks are incredibly narrow with just inches to spare on either side of the boat. It takes concentration to get the boat in and stay centred.

With another boat coming down the locks, there are plenty of people to help out. Everyone is friendly and helpful. It’s what we soon come to love about this style of canal cruising – its intimacy, its friendliness and its tradition.

We pass many boats, some moored and others motoring. We see the beautiful, the ugly and the unloved. Some are used for weekend breaks, some for one-off holidays (usually hired) and others are lived in permanently.

Many are decorated with folk art paintings of castles and roses (this is traditional). Most are named – Bumble, Little Glen, Morning Mist, Magpies Nest, Penny Lane and Water Baron are just a few.  

Our destination is the Wrenbury Mill, where we will moor for the night. But it takes nine locks in total and two swing bridges before we reach the mill.

Our first swing bridge is manually operated (needs to be wound up) and Grant takes charge of it while we sail blissfully through.

The Wrenbury Mill is also depot for hire narrow boats and where we find our second swing bridge – this one is automated with a turn of a key and a press of a button.



It’s a busy motor bridge – a gate has to be closed, traffic lights flash, people stand and watch, intrigued, while drivers wait patiently as the big boats amble through.

Grant and Max head off up the canal to find a big space to turn the boat so we are facing the right way to go back again the next day. Max is at the tiller as they do a four-point U-turn in the middle of the canal. Meanwhile, I check out a glass of rosé while waiting for their return.

We take our mooring for the night amongst a colourful line of boats that curves along the bank. Boaties wander up and down the towpath, dogs follow (one exuberant pooch even falls in the water) and wood smoke wafts through the night air as people settle in for the evening.

It’s been an amazing day. Hunger sets in, so we head off on the towpath to find the local pub for our evening meal. Ahhh, this is the life!

Sun 25 It’s an early enough start but we stop further along the canal to eat breakfast (fresh berry fruit and Special K) and enjoy the scenery. If we came up nine locks then we must go down nine locks to get back to our starting point and car.

With Max at the tiller, Grant and I operate the locks. Incredibly, we all get caught in a heavy downpour of rain as the boat lowers down in the lock.

I am grimly reminded of our time in a big French lock where we were caught in a horrendous downpour and thunderstorm. But this time, we are not alone to cope, we have Grant on this journey and that makes it enjoyable and fun.

The sun does come out again and as we cruise along the canal, we meet fishermen out for a Sunday fish – they line the banks, umbrellas up and all the gear you caught possibly want.

One even has a fishing rod that reaches right across the canal to the other side where presumably big, fat fish hide in the vegetation.

After all the locks are completed, we moor outside the Olde Barbridge Inn again to celebrate my birthday with a delicious Sunday roast lunch.

It’s 4pm when we finally reach the Bunbury Locks, stopping on the way to empty our portable toilet and rubbish at a boat station.

We take turns at walking the towpath to walk off our lunch. We can walk just as fast as the boat, if not faster!

We moor the boat, tying up securely, and unpack our gear. This is where this journey began, with great excitement in the air, and this is where this journey finishes, with a great feeling of satisfaction and enjoyment in our hearts and souls.

Simple pleasures endure… thanks Grant, for a great experience… what a great way to spend a birthday!