The forgotten islands off Sweden’s coast
Karin Holmstrom lives at the ends of the earth, but it’s easy enough to pay her a visit. Just give some kroner to a boatman in the village of Fjällbacka on the west coast of Sweden and he’ll run you 12 miles (20km) out to sea to a place where water and sky are broken by low, bare rocks that seem to inhabit the middle of nowhere. On one of these stark, treeless outposts, waiting to greet you at a little wooden jetty, is Karin.
I felt a bit queasy meeting her, to be honest. The boat-ride was so bouncy that I was thrown from my seat, and as I arrived the shadows of racing clouds were flying past with nothing to slow the wind except boulders. Karin hurried me to the warmth of her tiny hotel (there are few buildings on her island), poured me a beer and told me that she is never lonely because yachts and visitors come in their thousands, particularly in summer.
Here? Why? “The rocks and the sea have different colours in this light,” Karin said, smiling. “It’s very calm and very, very strange.” I finished my beer, zipped my coat, and walked out to see what she was talking about.
This encounter came during the final hours of a cruise along Sweden’s west coast, a remarkable slice of seascape that stretches from the broad, chic streets of Gothenburg to the Norwegian border, 200 miles away. It’s a region of weathered rock, low forest and wooden villages pasted into discreet harbours, and little else — except for 8,000 amazing islands. Big, small, gaunt, craggy, smooth, alluring, exciting, remote ... some are large enough to carry a few wooden houses, others so small you can barely spread a picnic blanket without getting wet. A few have trees, many are bare, all scattered along the coast like confetti after a riotous wedding.
My cruise was a test-run for a new two-day boating experience that will operate this summer and may herald something even more interesting. Entrepreneurs, supported by Sweden’s tourist authorities, hope to develop a freewheeling, hop-on/hop-off ferry service running from Gothenburg to Strömstad, near the border. Jump on, pootle a few miles, see somewhere you like, jump off, stay a couple of days, then climb back on board when the service next happens by.
It’s a liberating idea, and my cruise is as close as you can get to that experience at the moment. So what will you find if you go?
Our trip was designed to explore only the central section of the coast, so first we drove an hour north from Gothenburg to the fishing village of Ellös on the bridge-linked island of Orust. And here, a clump of footsteps across a jetty found us lining the rails of a genteel, 50-seater double-decker boat amid laughs and much picture-taking.
Next thing, we were pottering out to sea heading for the village of Fjällbacka as a charming guide named Eva told us about a region that was governed by Norway until the 17th century, nobody even speaking Swedish until it became obligatory in schools in 1840. And they still fish here, especially for lobster and oysters . . .
And so on. Interesting stuff, but it was the feel of the landscape and the islands themselves that gripped us. The villages we passed were built almost entirely of wood, dull rust-red roofs occasionally broken by a flare of yellow, green, whatever they had in the tin that wasn’t garish. I saw no neon. There were no visible advertisements, either. No lures. No rancid come-ons. No desperate pleas for yachties to come and make themselves at home.
Yet there were plenty of tiny, idyllic harbours, and locals told me that securing a permanent berth anywhere on this coastline meant joining a 20,000-long waiting list. Norwegians come down in flotillas of yachts each summer to feast at local restaurants and sunbathe on those rocks, and swim in pools, skinny-dip or take a kayak out between the islands.
At the height of July, villages such as Smögen are crammed with party-goers, but locals say that the feeling is cheerful, and anyway the crowds soon thin. Meanwhile, the place, the coastline, the islands and the villages all retain their stoic charm, their uncommercial grace.
Sometimes we swished to within 30ft of land, weaving through weirdly configured island chains. Then the rocks would recede hundreds of yards into distant specks of mainland villages. When we stopped on one island to stretch our legs, it felt hugely exciting to be isolated from mainland Europe. In Smögen, we feasted on seafood at Skärets, a quayside restaurant on the edge of a tranquil harbour, ringed by islands and boats and emptiness.
I could detail other incidents, such as the intriguing sweep through Soten Canal, where the passing rocks were almost within touching distance, or the hotel in Kungshamn where I woke to see a fishing boat directly outside my window.
But the most revealing moment was the final visit to Karin’s hotel on the far-flung Weather Islands, 12 miles from Fjällbacka (Ingrid Bergman once lived near by). The cruise itself doesn’t officially include this side trip, but if a proper hop-on service does develop — which it really should — then you will be able to visit as many islands as you like on water-taxis from mainland villages. And if you do, you could end up 12 miles out to sea on an island barely a mile in circumference, zipping up your jacket against the wind.
Karin’s hotel is called the Väderoarnas Värdshus — a yellow wooden building in a cluster of others dating back to the days when pilots were stationed here to guide ships through the chain. But if you take about 15 steps civilisation disappears and what you can see is ... Well, the granite was grey and deeply fissured so you couldn’t walk a straight line; you passed spiky bushes in sudden clefts, trudged over swamps barely 3ft across, or leapt mottled ravines. Karin was right about the colours. The rocks changed hue from moment to moment, as did the sea, which was broken by lines of white-topped waves, and nearby clusters of empty granite and nothing else.
At the top of the island, by a simple cairn, the wind was so strong I couldn’t stop crying; but down on the lee side, in a tiny inlet, I sat for a moment on warmed, sheltered rocks and it was so peaceful I fell asleep. When I woke, I could see waves, rocks and cloud, the heart of Sweden, and this coast. It felt moving. And that’s it. That’s exactly the feeling you’re left with as you fly home.
NEED TO KNOW
A two-day cruise in Bohuslän costs about £190, including coach travel from Gothenburg to Ellös, boat cruise to Fjällbacka, coach return, with meals and one hotel night. See westsweden.com under “Holiday Ideas”, then “Island Hopping”. Details of island-hopping water-ferry services along the Bohuslän Coast will appear on this website as they develop.
Stay
Elite Park Avenue hotel, central Gothenburg Doubles from £105 (elite.se).
Strandflickorna Hotel, Lysekil Boutique mainland hotel 50 yards from the sea, run by owners who style themselves as “the beach girls” and often dress identically for the amusement of guests. Doubles from £105 (strandflickorna.se).
Hotel Smögens Havsbad On the mainland-linked island of Smögen. Large, tranquil, modern hotel with spa facilities, surrounded by rocks. Doubles from £140 (smogenshavsbad.se).
Väderöarnas Guest House and Restaurant Cheerful, basic but comfortable hotel on the Weather Islands, £150 pp/pn, including all meals. Add about £26 for ferry costs (vaderoarna.com; website is in Swedish, owners speak English).
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