Wild swimming and forest walks in Western Sweden

By | April 13, 2024

<span>Magnificent isolation in Dalsland, where you can canoe across the lake to the deserted island of Björken.</span><span>Photo: Agnes Maltesdotter</span>” src=”https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/xQEDgg4DtVxC6o3ZDZgkvQ–/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTk2MDtoPTU3Ng–/https://media.zenfs.com/en/theguardian_763/6650074aafbedae47950a 4c8df8bf52a” data-src= “https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/xQEDgg4DtVxC6o3ZDZgkvQ–/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTk2MDtoPTU3Ng–/https://media.zenfs.com/en/theguardian_763/6650074aafbedae47950a4c8d f8bf52a”/></div>
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<p><figcaption class=Magnificent isolation in Dalsland, where you can canoe across the lake to the deserted island of Björken.Photo: Agnes Maltesdotter

As we slide off the pier into the cold waters of Lagmanshagasjön, the world loses all its distinctiveness. Low fog blurs everything; I can’t see where the lake ends and the sky begins. It’s like walking breaststroke towards a silvery infinity. I didn’t bother with the swimsuit. Between the tannic water and the early morning glow, I can barely see myself, let alone be seen. And it is delicious to merge with nature: wearing nothing, seeing nothing, feeling everything.

I finally get out (acting like an unsuspecting heron), quickly get dressed, and go back to my “room”; a dazzling glass cabin hidden among mossy mounds, blueberry bushes and pine trees. Soon Katarina arrives with a basket of homemade sourdough and local cheese. She she she goes and I eat silently so loud it’s like I’m shaking.

This is partly because I am quite far off the tourist route in Västergötland (West Gotland). Although this may vary depending on such beautiful places to stay. I’m at Erikson Cottage, a fourth-generation family farm two hours east of Gothenburg. It’s the perfect combination of Swedish taste and sustainability, with three greenhouse-like cabins scattered throughout the grounds. It’s run by sisters Elisabeth and Katarina, and everything is so-so: from the beautiful linens to the hygienicness of Elisabeth’s bakery-café; It’s all fresh flowers, candlelight and coffee in handmade mugs.

But there is an essence to the style. Greenhouses are off-grid and will leave no traces if removed. The site has solar panels and its own well. The food comes mostly from local suppliers, while the breads are made from traditional grains. There is an electric vehicle charging point and two train stations nearby where guests can be picked up.

The activities offered on the farm also have a low impact. Guests can swim (naked or otherwise) in the lake, kayak and paddleboard, hike through the woods, and learn to make pizza.

“But 90% of the guests do nothing,” says Elisabeth. “They read, lie in bed, read some more. “They enjoy slowing down.”

This is increasingly becoming the subject of Western Sweden.

In 2021, Western Sweden launched Increasing Sustainability, a tourism program aimed at minimizing the environmental footprint of the industry. But this is more than a nice green manifesto: West Sweden has put its morals where its money is. The tourism board stopped marketing to North America and Asia; instead, it focused on domestic and European travelers who did not have to fly far. Even flying (I traveled by train).

It’s the perfect combination of Swedish taste and sustainability, and that’s just the way it is. But there is an essence to the style. Greenhouses are off-grid

Then last year the region launched “climate-conscious holidays”, a tourism industry initiative that works with a handful of low-carbon accommodation providers to create experience-rich itinerary ideas to explore western Sweden. Accommodations cost between 0.2kg and 1.5kg CO2 equivalent per person per night; the average Swedish hotel weighs 6.8 kg. (Erikson Cottage scores 0.3kg.) These are all wonderful, but they might also be boringly valuable if they weren’t extraordinary places.

I’m driving to Erikson Cottage in an electric car as part of a tour covering the many climate-friendly spots of Western Sweden. After a few days of green-chic forest living, I head north for something different, to the land between two large lakes, Vättern and Vänern.

Lugnåsberget Ekohotell is a guest house converted from a 19th-century farm located on one of the hills of Western Gothland. In fact, I barely realize it’s on a hill until Ekohotell co-owner Pia Åkesson leads me deeper into the place.

The bedrock beneath the hotel (1.5 billion-year-old gneiss) is particularly suitable for making millstones, which people have been making here since the 12th century. I walked the Stonecutter’s Trail and found traces of old quarries (about 600 were excavated here) and millstones scattered like coins.

Then Pia takes me to Minnesfjället, one of the mines in the area, which is now a small museum. She moves her torch across the ground: smooth round holes, like cookies cut out of pastry, show where men cut stones with simple pickaxes. She then raises her light towards the ceiling: “Here you see the first life on Earth; animals that lived 540 million years ago.”

In fact, we are looking at an ancient seafloor, rippled by waves and spotted with brachiopod and trilobite fossils. “The miners called them planets, moons and stars,” says Pia. They didn’t know or didn’t care how rare and extraordinary they were. They were too busy trying to make ends meet.

That’s what Pia and her partner Jesper Persson do. “There is no hostel tradition here,” Jesper says over homemade cinnamon buns at Ekohotell. “But we had been dreaming of owning a hostel for a long time and wanted to show people that there are different ways of living.”

Best of all, guests who stay here and explore the biosphere reserve are pumping money into this little-visited region.

For this couple, sustainability is not a fad, it is essential. Solar panels produce more energy than Ekohotell uses, and produce for the kitchen comes from the couple’s own small business or local farm. I plug my car into the on-site charger, but there’s a train station a few miles away on the scenic Kinnekulle Line. Best of all, guests who stay here and explore the surrounding biosphere reserve are pumping money into this little-visited region.

My next stop is in Dalsland, an area between the western shore of lake Vänern and the Norwegian border. It is full of lakes but very few people. Swedish Country Living, a stylish group of “retreats” and holiday homes, looks like it’s just emerged from a photo shoot; This is perhaps no surprise, as owners Marie and David Naraine previously worked in fashion. My cottage, the Slate House Hermitage, looks like something out of a fairy tale: a small gingerbread house with smoke coming out of its chimney.

But it’s not just good looking. It was handmade using site-cut wood, recycled slate tiles and salvaged antique doors and windows, and was insulated with wool from the Naraines’ sheep. The shower block works with a circular system that takes water from the lake, purifies it after use, and pumps it back into the lake. The waste from the toilet becomes fertilizer for the permaculture garden or fodder for apple trees.

David was also a cook and his food (the lambs he raised, the food from his vegetable patch) was delicious. There are pilgrim paths and nature reserves on the doorstep. And guests are free to use the lake as they wish.

One day I borrow a canoe. These waterways are now sleepy, a land of ducks and reeds. So it’s hard to understand that this was once a trade route that was part of the Dalsland Canal system connecting Lake Vänern to the North Sea. There are no other ships in sight as we row towards the deserted island of Björkon, pulling ashore the ruins of an 18th-century shipyard.

I have my own place and spend some time exploring the ruins among the toads and wild strawberries. I climb into the overgrown dry dock, where a sign indicates the 28-foot schooner Clara was built in 1867. And I’m sitting on a stone slab – could it be part of the old forge? – I’m trying to imagine the noise when Clara set off towards the Black Sea.

Finally, I paddle back. I can see smoke billowing from Swedish Country Living’s outdoor spa, the jacuzzi discreetly hidden behind reeds being fired up for my return. But I’m in no rush. I slowed down to West Swedish speed.

Provided by Gezi the West Sweden tourism board And Sustainable Journeys. Erikson Cottage 48 hour package is £563 (7,500 crowns) double, breakfast and dinner includedCouples at S. Lugnåsberget Ekohotell £119 for two nights. A. two night package In Swedish Rural Life £796 for two, full board. Sustainable Journeys offers: 14-day West Sweden Low Carbon Grand Tourto stay five climate-smart places and included Renting a housefrom the environment £1.920s. The author traveled from London to Gothenburg by train via Brussels, Cologne, Hamburg and Copenhagen; Travel time (overnight) from 32 hoursS

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