Sunday 9 September. Slept like a deadman last night. It was so dark and so quiet, nothing disturbed me until some fishermen arrived at 07:00, but then I fell asleep again until 09:00.
It hasn’t stopped raining all day, it’s been what the Scots would call dreich, but this morning it was just Peter Kay rain. I kept to my plan to see if I could walk to Lake Vänern. I could.
OK, no awards for the photos, but you get the picture!
This afternoon I drove to Borekullen, an Iron Age hillfort. The tourist map names it as Bore Kulle, which made finding it more difficult than it should have been. I got into ‘why am I doing this’ and ‘plan more carefully’ mode, then reminded myself that I’m lost in Sweden! and all the diversions should be considered explorations. I wanted off the beaten track, and I was getting it. I relaxed again.
Why the hill fort? It was a hour in my general direction of travel, in what looked to be lovely countryside. After hitting some Cumbrian style roads, I saw a signpost for the fort, pulled up at stopping place at the top of the hill, and went for a look.
It looked unprepossessing at first but then the sheer cliffs and the the view over Lake Örsjön revealed themselves.
I am staying where I parked.
I was wondering how far north I am. Well, it turns out I’m about level with the main island of Orkney, which makes this place the furthest north I’ve ever been. For a while now, every day will carry that distinction.