Sun, Sun, Sun, Here It Comes…..

Made it back from Spain with no problems, save for the security guy at Malaga airport being curious about the contents of my hand-baggage. It contained loads of odd, kitcheny bits and bobs. He took one look at the contents and just waved me on. This is often the case at Malaga; a few years ago we were allowed through and on board with a load of spike thingies – part of a tent-peg thing – which was positively weapon-like!

J is now in UK, en-route to see the daughter, LVP, and Grandsprog, Hamish, in West Wales for a few days. LVP – and us, too, if truth be known – is greatly relieved that Robin Gibb is making a steady recovery from his recent near-death, hospital experience. She is very fond of him and was most upset by his illness and possible demise.

 Ironically, here in the frozen North the temp is currently running at 21 degrees in the sunshine whereas in Wales it’s raining!  I was hoping for some sunny warmth this week. On the train back from the airport I saw a newspaper headline saying Sweden was about to benefit from the high temps they are apparently getting in parts of Russia – this is often the case, especially in summer. I was particularly pleased with this because I was able to read the article even though it was in Svenska/Swedish!

The birdlife continues to change with the latest additions being the Curlews, which arrived whilst I was in Spain, and are now as wonderfully vocal as ever; that marvellous, rippling-trilling is, for me, one of the sounds of early Summer/Spring.  A flock of Fieldfares has also set up shop in the still, bare Birch trees: these birds are in fact known as Björkträst – Birch Thrushes – up here. They have a singularly grating song and certainly merit no awards in the birdsong charts.

The Whooper Swans are regularly vocal, especially when whooping past overhead in pairs, and we saw a pair of Golden Eye Ducks a few days ago on one of the lakes behind the house; a few Black Grouse (there are usually dozens of these, we’ve counted up to 40 of them in the trees around the garden) and Common Cranes/Tråna (pronounced Tronnaa hereabouts) making their usual, unmistakable racket in the fields around the house:

We’re looking after – or rather, I’m looking after, as J’s in UK – our German neighbours dog, Alex, for a week or so. He’s off to Tashkent to meet a woman he – needless to say – met online!  We wish him well, but do wonder at times.  His dog is a Hamiltonstovare, a Swedish hunting breed, very powerful and willful. It often escapes – it can open and close doors!! – from his place and takes off into the forest for 24 hours or so. As a breed, they are apparently known to be difficult but reliable in that they invariably find their way back home – eventually. Roger’s rigged up a steel line – it eats through anything else – and it is sort of anchored outside in the garden with a cage thing etc., inside the hallway of our old cabin/Bagarstuga:

Alex, having a nap in today’s sunshine:

Sadly, our neighbour Monica’s horse died  just before I set off for Spain. It was over 20 years old, so had a good innings. She was very upset, of course. It used to fall asleep while standing and would sway as its head lowered steadily before jerking back into wakefulness. One day, it simply fell down and could not get back up, so Håkan had to do the dirty deed. They were fortunate that the ground is already softening – early this year – and could therefore dispose of the carcase on their land:

There are now more Brits in the area, too. A real surprise. We came across them when off hunting for wine at the inane Swedish State monopoly in nearby Ramsele. This house was for sale last year and it appears that a Brit has moved in:

They are not far from this lovely, secluded hilltop cabin:

That, in turn, overlooks this view:

Charlie and Rocky are getting on fairly well these days, playmates as much as anything else, always keen to get out and about – especially now the snow has largely gone, in Rocky’s case:

To cap it all,  after running J to the train yesterday – the best way to travel within Sweden, where first-class is often as cheap as second, and boasts huge, genuinely comfortable, reclining seats, free internet connection and power supply, free coffee/tea, biscuits/cakes and fruit juice and mineral water, and newspapers throughout the journey – and even passable food, if booked in advance, at realistic prices – I found a shop selling two of my favourite cheeses, Stilton and Fourme D’Ambert, unbelievable and worth supporting.

An older style Swedish locomotive. These are still  widely in use, though not on the airport run we take, where they have super-fast, sleek silvery things instead:

This is the same kind of train seen on this You Tube vid. I still can’t simply download a vid-clip from YT with the new Blogger. ‘Tis a prize pain. Instead it gives me a variety of utter dross, presumably because Google’s making money out of promoting some stuff, stuff, stuff:

http://youtu.be/0DfERb98kGk

There’s A Moose Aboot The…..

We’ve had an interesting and relieving few days recently. The weather continues Spring-like, with odd snow flurries that fall but fail to settle in any meaningful way. Most of the garden is now clear, save for odd patches and many of the fields around us are also clearing nicely. This morning it was minus five at 07:00 when I got up to let Jack and Charlie out for a wander.  With the sun beaming down and the promise of a speedy rise to zero, I got dressed and stayed up! Unheard for me on a Sunday – any day, truth be told!

Each day, we have plus temps now and often it’s warm enough to sit outside in the sun with a cuppa and a book.  We also have light from about 05:00 through to 20:30 or thereabouts, so it feels good.

Rocky and Charlie seem to be enjoying themselves. Charlie clearly sees Rocky as a playmate now and leads him off out, waiting for him to catch-up and generally behaving in a kittenish way – something he never did as a kitten. Every now and again, he asserts his authority as local, boss cat and whacks Rocky. Just to show him who’s boss, I’m sure.

We’ve managed to sell the Spanish house, it seems: the price is way below decent, but we want to move on and everyone’s trapped in the crappy nonsense these days, so we said yes: at least we don’t have a bank/mortgage to bother about!  I pity those unfortunate enough to be caught in that circle these days.

In addition, we’ve had some Germans looking round our place here in Sweden and it looks likely that they’ll be making us an offer on that too. So, an interesting few days, indeed!  We’ve decided to head back to France, the Charente or Poitou Charente regions again and look for a place to buy with our proceeds. There’s no shortage of stuff on the market and we think we should get a decent deal in current circumstances. So it’s all swings and roundabouts really.  I’m off to Spain latertoday for a week or so to sort things out.

I was still in favour of returning to Scotland and the Hebrides in particular – maybe even Orkney – but J is not so keen. For some reason she’s more interested in the French climate, wine, culture and food. We’ll just have to make do then.

We went off to get some wine a couple of days back and en-route we came across these girls:

These were a pair of female Moose, large gangly critters. We saw one ahead of us on the verge and then about ten metres further on another came out of the forest,c rossed the road and cantered away. Always a pleasure to see them.

And here’s the garden now:

And the table for those cosy cuppas:

When we got to the small nearby town of Ramsele, where the nearest state-run booze store is located about 25 Kms form home, we also met this lovely lad or lassie:

These, they claim hereabouts, are Icelandic cows. To me they look like Highland cattle and I’m sticking with that!

We crossed this gorgeous river, now free of ice for the most part, on the way home. One of the BIG local rivers:

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow…..

Having had (suffered??) fairly low temps for much of yesterday, at about 19:00 we had full sun and plus four degrees. Charlie was determined to get out for some evening foraging. Rocky was keen on joining him but I detained him as I doubt he’d have the sense to return at dusk (20:00) as temps begin to drop significantly, whereas Charlie does. At 08:00 this morning we were running at minus five but it had dipped to minus 14 in the wee, small hours. There is more snow forecast for later today, though it looks unlikely to be serious. Which is just as well, as I must drive a few hundred Kms to collect J from Sundsvall rail station this evening.

Listening to PM on Radio 4 online yesterday evening, I smiled on hearing that severe (yellow) warnings had been issued in parts of Scotland because up to 10 cms of snow was forecast.  Here, that would elicit no concern, let alone the issue of a weather warning.  It would certainly get no radio coverage!  Last winter, which was one of the severest for about a century, the media was full of stories about hardship and weather problems. Indeed, three people froze to death in the middle of the country, down towards Stockholm and Uppsala, where it’s generally viewed by those up here as being mild and wimpish. All three died virtually within sight of their homes/destinations. One, particularly poignant I thought, was of a young guy walking home after a night out. He tried a short-cut across a small field to his home but got bogged down in the snow and didn’t make it. His body was found about 300 metres from home. With thick insulation and double or triple glazing in most homes, his cries for help would probably have gone unheard.

We could easily understand how this could have happened: a few years ago we had been walking in the forest and decided to cut cross-country from a neighbour’s holiday cottage/stuga to the nearby railway line where we could then walk along to a track that leads back to the village centre. In virtually no time, we found ourselves struggling through snow waist-deep, where every step required enormous effort to lift a whole leg out of the snow and plonk it down ahead – where it promptly sank, and then drag the other out and so on. By the time we reached the track, I was genuinely exhausted, cold and wet. The fact that I was wearing jeans at the time, didn’t help. But the point of how dangerous it can be was made and taken on board by us both!  We’d previously also got lost in the forest in summer, following tracks over great distances, losing our way and actually walking in a huge circle, where we largely by chance found our way back to our starting point outside the village!:

Easter is almost upon us and the shops are full of bunnies, eggs and the firm Swedish holiday standard, ‘Helg Skinka’:  this is pronounced Helly  Whinka, as I’m sure you guessed!  It is much loved by Swedes  who consume tons of the stuff every public holiday be it Xmas, Easter, Midsummer, National Day (June 6th). Whenever a public holiday rears its head, Swedes answer the call and rush out to buy their Helg Skinka: It’s simply a lump of boiled Ham, to you and I. Quite why they have such a predilection for this stuff in such quantities is beyond us, and certainly leaves our German neighbours mystified! Still, it’s almost harmless, unless you have the misfortune to be one of the pigs inadvertently boiled alive at the abatoirs to produce it.  There have been reports of this happening both here in Sweden and in Finland, where an abatoir run by a Svenska company was found to be engaged in this cruel practice a few years ago.

Easter, or Påsk in Swedish, also brings out the great Semlor, a huge, creamy/marzipany confection that is virtually a meal in itself. I’m really quite partial to the odd one of these:

We had noticed a strange small red light in the distance, only visible from our first-floor bedroom, and wondered what it might be. It wasn’t there when we were last here. Yesterday, I had a proper look and found it to be atop a wind-turbine that has been sited on a small hilltop in deep forest. There seems to be but one of them, thankfully. I know all the arguments in favour of this kind of renewable, environmentally friendly power production, but frankly they are usually no more than commercial monstrosities that are now frequently being erected in areas of great beauty, as blots on the landscape, with little true benefit – certainly seldom any benefit to locals.  It’s worth bearing in mind that Sweden has countless hydro plants for power production. In fact, most of the best rivers in the country were dammed years ago – generally without thought for the environment or wildlife. Salmon are unable to access many upper reaches as no ladders were built into the dam designs! 

Here in Sweden, there is a cultural concept known as ‘Lagom’: Swedes pride themselves on this idea. Basically it sort of means all is for the best, everyone acts in the best interests for society in general. It’s really an insidious method of State control, in my view, and has been exploited by governments for many years. At its most basic it means that Swedes don’t complain about much. They put up with things. Often to a staggering degree. Businesses get away with almost anything, treat customers with ill-concealed contempt, overcharge for everything, ignore complaints or criticism and generally behave appallingly.

 As a former lawyer, I’m astonished at their attitude. As an example: a short time ago, we wanted internet and internet telephony services. There are very few providers in Sweden. The company we approached, and whom we had dealt with for internet access for some years, simply refused to provide telephony on the grounds, and I quote, ‘you are not Swedish.’  Extraordinary behaviour.  When we complained to the discrimination Ombudsman’s office, they upheld the company view and said they could see nothing discriminatory in this. I remain amazed and a tad angry. I just can’t believe it would happen, and have never encountered it anywhere else in Europe. It certainly wouldn’t occur in the UK, where political correctness has, admittedly, gone way OTT.

Anyway, that’s enough of a rant but I hope it illustrates just how surprising and paradoxical life in Sweden and the Swedes themselves can be. ‘Tis not the image they like to project. That’s for sure!

Is It Always Dark Up There?…..

Up at about 07:30 this morning when Jack decided he wanted an early pee. The mercury was reading minus ten, though it has since climbed to plus two degrees. It had been down to minus 13 a few hours earlier. I went out in dressing gown to collect kindling etc., to get the stove running and thought it felt a bit raw. Now, it’s hovering at around zero and feels like it might stay there for most of the day, with more large-flaked but lightish snow falling.

Oddly enough, you do become acclimatised to the extreme temps  given time and exposure.  Anything up to around minus ten, we now consider reasonable and think little of. I’ve been known to nip out to the various sheds, garage etc in short-sleeved shirts/T-shirts at that level and can potter around in the garden for about quarter of an hour like this without giving it a thought. It’s only on stepping back into the house, where the warmth envelopes you, that it’s particularly noticeable.

When it reaches, say, minus 27 or thereabouts, we consider it to be cold!  Then, as soon as we step out onto the porch everything turns white, rimed with frost in seconds, hair, beard, eyebrows. You get the picture.

But ‘How dark is it?’: that’s a question people constantly ask.  There’s an assumption – because of David Attenborough’s Arctic telly stuff – that it must be dark for six months of the year.  We’re a few hundred miles South of the Polar Circle, so don’t get it so bad, though even over the Circle it’s seldom truly dark.

It remains a question that is invariably asked about winter where we are living. The answer is, of course, no, it’s not always dark at all.  Indeed far from it. We never completely lose the sun, even in deepest winter/December, when it can just be glimpsed on or slightly above the tree-line. Admittedly the days are short with dusk falling in mid-afternoon but when everything is white with ice and snow – which it tends to be for months on end – the light is remarkable. Even at night with a full moon reflecting light onto the surrounding snow, we can see for miles. And there is also the Aurora Borealis to brighten things up too.

We are based in a tiny Swedish Skogsbyn – a typically Swedish compound word – Skogs and Byn – meaning forest village. Our nearest town, Junsele, has a population of only about 900 and the nearest town of any size is the principal Kommun town of Sollefteå on the Ångerman River, about 80 Kms to the South. There’s also the town of Strömsund about 70 Kms distant but that’s in another region, Jämtland. As is the pretty town of Östersund.

For the geographers out there, we are at latitude 63.41 N, roughly on a par with much of Alaska and the Yukon where, for example, Whitehorse (Yukon) is at 60.43 N and Anchorage (Alaska) at 61.13 N and Dawson City (Yukon) at 64.05. So, we’re pretty far North.  And like its North American cousins, there is said to be gold in some of the streams and rivers, although they’ve never had the madness of the Gold Rush to contend with.  A new farm business/touristy thingy has recently been established a bit South of us, near Sollefteå. It offers Gold panning outings among other adventure type holidays, and looks quite interesting. We’ll probably pop in and say hello in passing sometime.  So, if you fancy a break with a difference this might be your thing:

http://www.backsjonsupport.se/Activ%20Nordic%20eng.aspx

Another interesting touristy thing is located just over the Circle at the small lakeside town – little more than a village, really – of Porjus. This is run, at least in part, by a Brit, and specialises in Aurora Watching/photography breaks. Again, I think it looks interesting:

http://porjus.eu/

Tourism is on the increase in the region although, so far, it tends to be summer visitors for the most part. This is a pity as some of the best experiences up here are decidedly winter based events: snow-scootering; ice-fishing; Aurora watching; Dog-sledding etc.  There certainly seems to be a potentially rich seam to be tapped into here for those with stamina, determination and vision – which pretty well rules us out. But with views like this, it’s hardly surprising that many Germans and Danes (surprisingly) are buying up property and moving into the area:

Recent figures from the state land registry show a marked increase in the number of foreigners buying property in the country. As we’re hoping to sell up now, we hope to benefit from this trend.

I’ve now got the new updated version of Blogger and it seems impossible to download/upload vids from the Chube. So I’ll leave you with this link address instead:

http://youtu.be/jtKFRFj0RWk

900 Hundred Miles From My Home…..

At this time of year, each morning starts with a routine: down-stairs, let Jack and Charlie out, switch on kettle, give Jack a treat – one of those chewy thingies – clear out, relay and relight the wood-burning stove that powers the central heating.  We keep a stash of logs and a handful of kindling out on the porch, so this takes only ten minutes or so by which time the water is boiling and tea (for J) and hot choc (for me) can be prepared and slurped down with fruit juice in comfort as the house warms up. The cats, of course, demand nosh, too – especially Rocky. Charlie prefers to nip out with Jack for his morning mouse/lemming/feathered treat search before returning home/hem for breakfast/frukost.

Luckily, we have no shortage of wood in the woodstore to keep the hem fires burning for a few more years:

The woodstore (last winter – access is sort of better now):

The wood:

And the saw to rip through the stuff, a 3-phase Norwegian bit of kit: much easier, and safer (I feel) than a Chainsaw/motorsåg:

Of course, this stuff pales into insignificance against the kind of kit favoured by serious woodsmen hereabouts. These machines, chop, lop and move entire trees in a matter of minutes and are genuinely formidable to observe in action:

I must get out and chop some logs later to keep the warmth running indoors. We don’t keep the stove alight overnight because the house simply becomes too warm, too uncomfortable. ‘Tis easier to let it wind down each evening and start afresh next day.

So far there’s been no sign of ‘our’ red squirrel. He’s a real character, territorial and feisty, and will do almost anything to get at the birdfeed. He must still be in hibernation otherwise I’m sure he’d be about by now:

We had a light sprinkling of snow again overnight. Sparkly, sugery-stuff of no depth and little substance. It will be gone again by lunchtime, I’m sure. At 08:00 this morning it was minus five with sunshine and some light, wispy cloud at altitude.

J sent me a text message from the airport last night confirming the journey had been straight-forward, with no problems up til that point. I tried texting her back but she has taken my (Spanish) mobile and left me hers, with God-damn predictive text, which I loathe. I couldn’t figure out how to change options so sent her gobbledygook in reply.

Stone Cold…..

J got off okay this morning at just a tad after 05:00. Our German neighbour, Roger, came up and collected her in his grand 4X4, otherwise it would have been pretty hairy for the first 200 Kms or so! He was intent on going shopping at the German store, Bauhaus, in Birsta, just outside Sundsvall which is open nowadays on Sunday, it appears. Having checked online, SJ – the Swedish state railway – has a gizmo that lets you check on train journey progress, very useful – her train/tåg left on the button and was on time all the way South. Incredible, given conditions. In the UK the railway network would be down in these snow-ridden conditions and low temps. Wrong kind of snow, probably. Maybe they have the ‘right’ kind up here. There’s certainly enough to export.

I slumbered on fitfully until about 08:00, when the tap-dancing racket being made by two bored and excitable cats woke me and forced me from bed. Then, we had minus seven and light cloud, with another fresh sprinkling of snow blanketting everything. Charlie raced out, as per, and Rocky plumped for tucker – he’s so predictable, at times! Jack lumbered out and barked a bit at Håkan’s mutt, Birk, who barked back loudly, persistently and frustratingly – he’s kept in a large chain-fenced run while Håkan & Monica do the milking – presumably envious of Jack’s apparent liberated existence.

The bloody Woodpecker has managed to release the small catch at the base of one of the nut-feeders, thereby releasing a torrent of (bloody expensive) peanuts/jordnötter onto the perma-frosted ground below: all the easier to hoover-up, no doubt!:

Having scoffed the lot, he is now dangling on the other feeder attacking the fat-balls I managed to squeeze into it:

Greedy – but smart – bastard!

I would think, given the temp when I surfaced, that it must have been closer to minus ten when J left at fiveish. Temps like this are mild for this area in winter. But they are levels where UK authorities issue emergency warnings and everything grinds to a halt – save, of course, for Isle of Lewis residents who receive storm warnings related to tying down their bins! You’ve just got to love that thought!

Yesterday evening, as the sun was Westering, we took a short hike down into the forest with Jack in tow – or, more accurately – gambolling ahead puppy-like. The snow is going fast and the ground is nowhere near as hard as it would usually be at this time of year. In places where bushes and trees have had limbs caught out, stuck under the forst and snow, they are springing back already green with new growth apparent. This is also visible on our own fruit and currant bushes, where new growth looks promising. It all augers well, for an early Spring and decent cropping Summer, we hope. We had a delightful walk at about zero/minus one or two degrees but lovely setting sunlight. One of the great pleasures of living in this at times extreme environment.

I’m forever on the search for Bears. We have many Brown Bears in the forest and they should be out of hibernation by now with their young cubs. Obviously, we are cautious – they’re not known to be very welcoming or cordial at this time of year when hunger pangs are sharpest. But, as usual, there was no sign. Not even scat, which is evident from time to time. We did find some Moose/Älg scat by one track though these shy and elusive animals are difficult to spot in their forest habitat where they blend remarkably well with the background.

There are also Wolverines hereabouts, though, again, these are seldom seen. They’re also known as Gluttons and are the biggest of the Marten family, I believe, with an odd, sideways loping gait. In theory, their track/spoor should be easy to spot in the snow but I’ve yet to see it. I remain hopeful, though. There are also Lynx, which we have seen a few times, Beavers, countless Deer and, my favourites, Bubu Bubu – Eagle Owls, and also Great Grey Owls around.

J saw a Great Grey a few days ago when it whooshed across the road in front of the car, almost coming a cropper! Despite their size, they are astonishingly agile in the forest, slipping, twisting and gliding at speed through the thickest of tree-cover. Another firm favourite is the Capercaillie; these are common here and strut around on the roads at this time of year, which to them are simply forest clearings, I suppose! The males are marvellously ridiculous birds when puffed-out, raucously self-important and randy.

Good Day Sunshine…..

We have beautiful full sunshine today. The temp was about minus 6 when I arose at 08:00 this morning. But the snowfall yesterday proved much more troubling than I expected. We’ve had a good few inches of fresh snow, though much of it is going again fast now, as temps have reached the seasonal high of about plus five. The prediction from the weather site online we use for today was this:

	Max Min Max Min 2° -11°

In truth, I don’t think it went as low as minus eleven overnight, though at 02:15, when Rocky returned home after about 17 hours out on the razzle, it was reading minus seven.

J is off to London tomorrow for a few days. She has a train to catch at Sundsvall, a three hour drive South, at 08:00. The worry is that without winter tyres on the car, and low overnight temps, the roads will just freeze, making the journey nigh impossible in our car, as she must leave about 05:00. Our German neighbour, Roger, has offered to give her lift down – he has a 4X4 Ford Explorer on all-weather tyres which will easily cope with the conditions. Looks like we’ll have to take him up on the offer, as there is more snow forecast for later today and again early tomorrow morning!

The difference in conditions are evident in these random pix taken yesterday afternoon and early this morning:

The Bagarstuga, again snow-covered and tricky to reach!:

The Track to the house, previously clear:

The morning view, looking South, from the porch:

Morning view, over Hakan’s field:

One of the local Woodpeckers, a year-round resident, Great Spotted, has finally discovered the nut-feeders and fat-balls again:

And this morning, Håkan decided it was time to collect some timber from the forest, so dug out his big wood transporter thingy – a Volvo, of course:

And here is the scene yesterday, as the snow blew in in increasingly greater amounts and larger flakes:

These little farmhouses, mostly painted red, are typical of Sweden. They are known as ‘Torps’. This one is Håkan’s:

Torps figure greatly in urban Swede’s dreams and perceptions of the rural idyll. They are often passed down through the family and retained as holiday homes: over fifty per cent of the population owns a second home in Sweden – generally a Torp. They are pretty but very cramped and small inside, which must have made them relatively easy to heat in winter, I guess. A decidedly important factor up here, I can assure you.