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*** SWEDEN 2013 - WEEKS 5~6 *** |
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This week's
Photo Gallery |
Wild Flora of Central Sweden |
Siberian Jays at Funäsdalen |
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Fulufjället National Park and Njupeskär,
Sweden's highest waterfall: heading north from Lake Siljan and Mora on
Route 70 on a day gloomy with drizzling rain, the increasingly hilly terrain was
covered with spruce forests as far as the eye could see with settlements few and
far between. This NW corner of Dalarna had a feel of remote wilderness, shrouded
with vast swathes of uninhabited coniferous forest, so different from the
province's southern areas. This was a region dominated by forestry with fleets
of logging trucks travelling Route 70, the only communications route through
this remote part of the country. The road gained height through the upper
valley of the great Österdalälven river which flows down from the northern
mountains through a series of elongated lakes into Lake Siljan. Across a broad
and empty plateau, Route 70 descended to the village of Särna, and just beyond
we diverted on a side lane into the hills of the Fulufjället National Park for
the walk up to Njupeskär, Sweden's highest
The lane ended at the Fulufjället National Park, and with the forests and line of hills ahead now obscured by misty rain, we kitted up in full waterproofs for the walk up to the waterfalls. The plateau-escarpment was still flecked with pockets of snow from last winter, but the 2 kms path following the Njupån River up to Njupeskär falls was well-maintained with sturdy board-walks across the lower-lying mires and wood-reinforced steps up the steeper slopes. Almost immediately on starting across the mire, we were greeted by old botanical friends from last year: beautiful pink globular flowers and spiky leaves of Bog Rosemary, and masses of cloudberry plants, their white flowers bedraggled by rain. The path gained height up through groves of ancient spruces, the ground covered by a lush carpet of bilberry bushes laden with their tiny pink flowers; this walk would provide a feast of bilberries for picking in September. The path emerged at a wooden shelter from where we got a first glimpse of the falls with the air filled by the sound of rushing water from the river below. Wooden steps descended to a board-walk following the river towards the mighty Njupeskär falls ahead dropping down into the canyon (see left) (Photo 1 - Njupeskär waterfalls in Fulufjället National Park). This was a mesmerising sight with the surging water seeming to hover in mid-air amid the spray (Photo 2 - 93m high Njupeskär waterfalls). At the foot of the cliff a large patch of snow remained in the dark NE facing gorge. The diversion up to Fulufjället had been well worthwhile: charactersome spruce woodland with glorious wild flora, a well-maintained path and magnificent falls as its climax - what more could you have asked for except clearer weather and better light.
We found a good source of local maps and mountain walks information up at the Idrefjället ski centre, stocked up with provisions at the village ICA supermarket, and spent an industrious afternoon in bright sunshine back at camp with the swirling sound of the white-flecked river rushing by behind the birch trees. Early June was truly the start of summer with the midges beginning to swarm in earnest, needing our Bagon diffuser to repel them; only as evening grew cooler or the wind blew did they disappear. It was such a pity that this pleasant campsite was soured by the owners' thinly disguised mercenary attitude.
Across the open fell, we began the long, slow
slog up the upper shoulder path (see left). The gravel surface gave good footing and we
made surprisingly rapid progress, with more Mountain Heath flowers to photograph providing
pretext for pauses for breath. With a determined effort we hauled ourselves up
onto the flatter summit ridge where a path led to the peak's craggy high point.
Dropping down to the ridge-line, we made a rapid descent of the steepest section of the shoulder and, with a glance back at the summit, were soon crossing the flatter fell-land. The bouldery path down through the spruce forest slowed our descent back down to the car park - 3 hours for the 2,800 feet of ascent and 1½ hours in descent; it had been a while since we had the chance for a climb like this, and we returned to camp in the Sörälven valley exultantly satisfied with our performance, and able to dry out boots and wet kit in the late afternoon sunshine.
The alpine valley of Funäsdalen: the village of Funäsdalen with its scattered
houses spread along the open valley against a backdrop of distant snow-streaked
mountains towards Norway (see left) (Photo 10 - Funäsdalen village against mountainous backdrop) was over-towered by the craggy hill of Funäsdalsberget,
centre of the local skiing industry. We had been reliant on Funäsdalen's TIC for
maps and details of local mountain walking; we had driven to reach here before
its 5-00pm Friday closing, only to find frustratingly it closed all day
following yesterday's public holiday and did not open at all at weekends. Nearby
however we noticed a climbing and outdoor equipment shop, Top Sport; not only
did it provide us with a local 1:50k map, but the owners very helpfully
recommended a series of fell-walks around Funäsdalen and printed out details for
us from the Funäsfjällen web site:
30 Funäsfjällen Guldturer (Gold Walking Routes)
- Click on the We had several campsite options around Funäsdalen and Tänndalen and eventually selected Funäsdalen Camping 2kms out of the village up past the ski resort, in a glorious fell-land setting directly below the Funäsdalsberget ski runs (Photo 11 - Funäsdalen Camping). It was a straightforward site with rows of gravelled camping areas terraced up the hillside among birch trees (see right). The very welcoming lady-owner calls round mornings to clean the homely facilities cottage and collect rent-money, and the nightly charge of 190kr was the best value campsite so far.
A frustrating mountain walk on Välliste:
we set off the following morning hoping for
another challenging, rewarding mountain walk on Välliste, selected from the Åredalen
fell-walking booklet, which started at the foot of Trillevallen's chairlifts. In
summer the ski station had an eerily deserted and forlorn air, as we kitted up
fully against the chill mountain wind. The ground was still soft and waterlogged
from the recently melted winter snows the remains of which still flecked the
higher fells. We expected to follow a path contouring across the shoulder of the
mountain leading to
Ristafallet Camping ranked among the trip's best campsites, and our stay at had been a happily memorable one. Before leaving the following morning, we walked down to photograph the waterfalls (Photo 18 - Photographing Ristafallet waterfalls). The roaring sound of cascading water became deafening as we reached the rocky platform looking directly across the full width of the falls (Photo 19 - Surging water and spray of Ristafallet waterfalls) with the morning sunlight sparkling on the surging water and spray (Photo 20 - Looking down into the surging waters of Ristafallet).
Another path led from the car park into the forest to displays about the use of trapping-pits (fängstgropar in Swedish) with lines of trapping-pits dug across the elks' migration routes, from prehistoric times when the engravings were created through the Viking period to as late as the 19th century when the trapping of elks was finally banned by law in 1864. The path led along a high esker-ridge where the scant remains of 4 such trapping-pits survived from around 1000 AD. These rather insignificant depressions along the steep-sided ridge were however of less interest to us than the wealth of wild flora covering the forest floor, particularly the beautifully flowering lingonberry, some still in tight pink bud, others with their white bell-shaped tiny flowers fully formed. The whole Glösa area on a bright sunny afternoon had provided a wealth of interest, both historical and botanical.
The Överhogdal tapestries at Jämtli Museum:
from down by the lake-side waterfront and Frösön's footbridge, the surrounding
low hills were completely enveloped in rain cloud; even Storsjön lake, on whose
shores Östersund is built, was obscured by mist. The Östersund tourist industry
thrives on yarns of Storsjöodjuret, the legendary monster said to dwell in the
depths of the lake with colourful models of the monster littered around the city
centre. We ambled around Östersund's pedestrianised central streets, and
consulted the weather forecast at the TIC, needlessly really since the wet
weather would continue for the next few days. For a provincial capital, Östersund was an unremarkable city, especially in the pouring rain, but there
was one feature we did want to see at the Jämtli Museum. This was a huge skansen
where during the peak summer, when it wasn't pouring with rain, enthusiasts
re-enact aspects of Jämtland's rural life and farm-crafts. Not all that exciting
you might think, but it was the indoor museum housing the Överhogdal tapestries
that interested us; these remarkably surviving
The pieces of the tapestries were discovered by
chance at Överhogdal among rubbish on the floor of a storage shed, left there after
removal from a kindling wood storage bin for the church's stove. A bricklayer
repairing the store had given a decorative corner piece to his daughter as a
doll's blanket because she thought it pretty. A year later, another collector
Various interpretations have been made by scholars as to the tapestries meaning. They clearly tell a story and the swarms of figures and motifs seeming to wander across the fabric from right to left consist of a curious mixture of both pagan and Christian symbols. The tapestries date from the transition period of Northern Scandinavia's conversion from Norse paganism to Christianity, and given the time and effort required to produce them, were clearly the result of powerful and wealthy sponsorship. Dating from a period of general illiteracy, their pictorial content seems to have had an educative purpose, perhaps triumphantly symbolising the struggle of the region's conversion to Christianity. A more likely interpretation is that the tapestries represent the pagan Ragnarök, the end of the world, portrayed as the Christian Apocalypse Day of Judgement, and that the tapestries are a propaganda instrument for the new religion using a theme familiar to the people from their pagan past (Photo 27 - Överhogdal tapestries dating from 850~1,100 AD). Although no one can be certain of the Överhogdal tapestries' original meaning and purpose, there is no doubting their inherent artistic beauty as a significantly major piece of European art work, worthy of ranking alongside the almost contemporaneous Bayeux tapestries but so little known (see right). Despite the gallery's dim lighting, we managed to get photos of the precious tapestries expecting at any moment the Gorgon from reception bursting in to forbid photography.
Journey north on the E45 Inlandsvägen on a
filthy wet evening, but another excellent campsite - Route 45 Camping
at Hammerdal: with the rain still pouring down, we stocked up
with provisions at an ICA supermarket in the northern outskirts and left Östersund
at almost 6-00pm and joined the E45 Inlandsvägen for the 60km drive north to
Hammerdal. Driving rain and gloomy cloud obscured the surrounding forests.
Dropping down to cross the now wide Indalsälven lake-river at Lit, and passing
what looked to be a good riverside campsite there, we crossed the Inlandsbanan
railway line and continued north into the gloom of early evening. Hammerdal was
a surprisingly large village with some industry and a large logging and timber
processing plant on the
We next move on further northwards to drive the circuit of the Vildmarksvägen (Wilderness Way) over the bleakly remote Stenenjokk Plateau and cross into Swedish Lapland, on the way seeing the spectacular Hällingsåfallet waterfalls and canyon, and continuing north into the province of Västerbottens. Here we are planning a journey on the Inlandsbanan railway and more mountain walking at Tärnaby in the mighty Umeälven valley and at Ammarnäs along the Vindelälven valley. Sweden has been spectacularly thrilling so far, but join us again shortly; the best is yet to come. Next edition to be published quite soon
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CAMPING
IN SWEDEN 2013 - Härjedalen and Jämtland Provinces - mountain walking in the
alpine valleys of Idre, Funäsdalen and Åre, the Glösa Neolithic rock engravings,
and Jämtland's provincial capital Östersund:
waterfall which spills 93m over a
cleft in the sandstone plateau-edge into a gorge-canyon carved out over aeons by the Njupån
River.
The alpine valley of Idre: back to Route 70 for the 30km onward drive
along the upper Österdalälven valley we reached Idre, a large settlement and
centre for winter ski trade with supermarkets, bank and filling station. We
selected Sörälvens Fiske Camping as base for our stay. The campsite is in an
attractive setting on the banks of the fast-flowing fishing river (see left), and is kept
by a Dutch couple. Her superficially welcoming manner however disguises an
unsavoury mercenary attitude - it was the most insidiously expensive site so
far: 240kr/night + 10kr for showers + 50kr for 24 hours' wi-fi internet + 70kr
for use of washing machine; they had a ready market in such a popular centre and
were milking it to the full! We arrived late in pouring rain to recover from the long
drive and the chill mountain air needed the heater on full despite the approach
of midsummer.
A superb climb of the 1131m high peak of
Städjon:
the following day, 6 June National Day
celebrating Sweden's independence when Gustav Vasa finally kicked out the Danes
in 1523, dawned overcast but bright. Reserving our riverside pitch, we drove up
the fell-land lane past the Idrefjället ski centre up to the lane's end in a
high valley at the alpine hamlet of Gränjesåsvallens. Here among scattered log
cabins a car park marked the start of the path up onto the shapely 1131m high
peak of Städjon, our mountain goal for today. Städjon's summit
peak, just visible above the trees, looked gloomy and formidably steep as we set off up the path through the
spruce and birch woods. The path gained height rapidly through the forest
ground-cover of bilberries and lingonberries, becoming grindingly steep and
stony through the upper reaches of the woodland (see right) (Photo
3 - Approaching the tree-line on path to Städjon peak). Snow-mobile routes marked by
red crosses familiar from Finland last year branched off, and our summer
path continued ahead finally to emerge above the tree-line onto the open
fell-land of the mountain's shoulder. Carefully noting this position for our
later
return path down into the forest, we pressed on across the flatter
shoulder. Ahead we had a clear panorama of Städjon's upper peak, with an evident
path rising at a fearsomely steep angle up to the craggy summit ridge. It looked
a formidable climb, and on the open fell the wind was much more chill. But we
were cheered by the sight of patches of purple-flowered Mountain Heath which
flourished on this exposed fell-land among the crowberry and dwarf birch and
willow scrub ground cover. Other walkers greeted us with a cheery 'hej hej' as
they passed.
This looked an even more challenging target with the path disappearing among a
tangle of boulders above a severely exposed drop. We feared that to reach the
summit may entail rock-scrambling, and the sky was even more overcast now with
stinging rain driven into our faces by the chill wind (Photo 4 - Summit ridge of
Städjon in poor weather). Struggling into gortex
and over-trousers, we advanced to the start of the rocks, where other walkers
descending from the summit gave encouraging reports of the route ahead. Steadily
upwards over the boulders in the chill rain, there ahead free of any deluding
false-summits we could make out the untidy summit cairn. Triumphantly we reached
the 1131m (3,710 feet) high point (Photo 5 - Summit cairn of 1131m high peak of Städjon); we took
our photos of the murky distant views as the squally rain passed (see right), and began our
descent to get off the exposed summit area down onto more secure ground.
The drive north over the fells into Härjedalen: the following day with the sun still shining,
we set off on our long drive northwards to Funäsdalen, and the next phase of our
trip. Our route initially was along the Grovlan Storån valley, the other river
which merges with the Sörälven at Idre to form the mighty Österdalälven. A short
distance north, what had lower been a placidly flowing river narrowed into
seething white-water rapids cascading into a rocky channel (see left). From the birch-lined
rocky river bank, the river made a spectacular picture sparkling in the morning
sunshine
(Photo 6 - White-water rapids on Grovlan Storån River).
This was a beautiful minor road, well-surfaced at this stage and passing through
birch-fringed spruce woodland with frequent views of the river. Beyond the tiny
hamlet of Foskros however, the tarmac ended giving way to compacted gravel
surface for 30kms (Photo 7 - Unsurfaced forest road leading north from Foskros), passing through lonely forests and rolling hills
(see right), finally
descending to the junction with Route 311 at the Sámi reindeer-herding
settlement of Sörvattnet where a sign warned of Renstägel - reindeer
enclosures. Here we passed into Härjedalen,
part of Jämtland Province. The ongoing Route 311 was a narrow and winding road,
gaining height through impressive fell-land to Högvålen signed as
Sveriges högst belågna (Sweden's highest village), with a sweeping vista of
distant snow-streaked mountains gracing the horizon ahead. This lovely road
continued over high fells, passing occasional remote settlements, and eventually
dropping down to the larger village of Tannäs. Here we joined Route 84, the main
cross-country road running through Funäsdalen and Tänndalen and on into Norway.
Shortly before the village of Torbygget, a sign
pointed into the forest to a meteorite crate, and a 200m long board-walk led to
a significant sized water-logged crater among the trees created 2,000 years ago
by the impact of space debris (Photo 8 - 2,000 year old meteorite impact crater at Torbygget). This was impressive, but so were the bilberries,
bog-bilberries and lingonberries flowering alongside the path (Photo 9 - Lingonberry (Vaccinium vitis-idaea) in flower-bud).
individually numbered route, then on 'Print Guldtur and map in
English PDF'. She even allowed us to use their
computer to consult the weather forecast on the ever-reliable web site of the
A superb fell-land walk and close encounter
with Siberian Jays: after a chill night in the high fells, we woke
to a bright morning with gusty, cloud-scudding wind bringing alternating showers
and spells of sunshine. We had selected Route 11 from the Guldtur walking routes
detailed on the Funäsfjällen web site recommended by Top Sport, and drove along
Route 84 to the high point between Funäsdalen and Tänndalen where a Guldtur sign
marked the walk's start point. The 5km walk led up onto reindeer pasture fells
to the mountain torrent of Livsäterån: with only 80m of height gain, it did not
seem a particularly startling excursion, but things were to prove otherwise. We
kitted up fully since the fell-land was likely to be very wet with run-off water
from the recently
melted winter snow (Photo 12 - Start of path up onto the Livsäterån fells). As we started up the muddy track through
birch groves, our attention was attracted by low whispering bird calls. Looking
around, a pair of Siberian Jays were perched on a nearby birch tree seeming to
be drawing attention to themselves. Exclusively found in the Eurasian
northern taiga coniferous forests (hence its name), because the bird's normal
habitat rarely brings them into contact with humans, they show no fear and have
even been known to beg food in remote national parks. And here were a pair of
them, flitting about among the birch branches, hopping around on the ground and
perching on a post before our eyes and making no attempt to avoid us as we moved
closer (see left). Although we had failed to see the Siberian Jay in the Urho Kekkonen
National Park in Finnish Lapland last year (
On the wetter ground, cloudberry flowers and
elegant bog rosemary were buffeted by the wind, and on the flatter fell-land
above the tree line among the bilberry and crowberry ground cover we found
specimens of Lapland lousewort with its tiny pale-yellow snap-dragon flowers. The Guldtur way-markings guided us reassuringly across the treeless fell-top with
its distant vista of snow-streaked mountains. At the far end of a beautiful
avenue of birches, we crossed a large patch of last winter's residual snow to
emerge onto a higher open fell-top (Photo 14 -
Crossing last winter's residual snow on Livsäterån). By now the sky had totally clouded over with
a chill north-easterly biting wind blowing as we followed the way-marks across
to the Livsäterån ravine. Stinging wind-driven rain had now started and having
reached our turning point, we retraced our route back across the fell and down
through the birch groves towards the car park, but there was no sign now of the
Siberian Jays. What had initially seemed a drearily unpromising route had turned
out a veritable walk in a paradise garden of wild flora, all with the climactic
bonus of close-sighting of Siberian Jays, a most rewarding afternoon. Such was
the variety of wild flora seen during these 2 weeks, especially the
characteristic northern berries at the flowering stage, that again we have
included a special page of photographs:
Long drive north into Jämtland
to the alpine valley of Åredalen: low cloud, unremitting rain and
chill NE wind the following morning forced a day in camp. The moment we opened a
door, the chill wind brought shudders; we were feeling the latitude and height,
and wearing enough clothes for winter and the heater on full, we spent the day
writing and working on photo-editing. We left Funäsdalen after our satisfying
stay for the long 260km drive north to Åredalen, which given the mountainous
topography, entailed an initial long loop eastwards, north on the E45
Inlandsvägen alongside the pervasively spreading lake of Storsjön, and a
westward return along the main E14 trans-Sweden highway which, on its way over
to Trondheim in Norway, passes through the ski resort Åre; this was an enforced
roundabout route to finish almost due north of Funäsdalen over the mountains.
The initial part of the drive returned east along the well-surfaced Route 84
through endless coniferous forests. Northwards on minor roads brought us down
eventually to join the E45 Inlandsvägen at Åsarna, and a short distance further
we turned off on another minor road through pleasant pastoral land along the
western shore of Storsjön to join the main E14 W~E highway along Åredalen. This
broad valley, green with alpine pastures and backed by high snow-flecked
mountains, passed through several settlements each with a surprising amount of
local industry. There was clearly more employment here along the valley than just
farming, tourism and the lucrative winter ski-trade.
Ristafallet Camping set by Ristafallet waterfalls: there is little to the town of Åre which is nothing but an
unattractive winter ski resort with the modern ski accommodation crowded up the
foot of Åreskutan's formidable massif which towers over the town. The
forested lower slopes are segmented by ski runs, one of which was still filled
with remnants of last winter's snow even in mid-June. Chair lifts snake up the
side of the mountain with the ultra costly Kabinbanan reaching the 1420m high
summit. Down at ground level, the modern railway station which brings in the
winter punters in their 1000s, incongruously incorporates an ICA supermarket and
the town's library and TIC. Again we had campsite options along Åredalen, but
the excellent Ristafallet Camping 12kms east of Åre was an obvious choice with
the superbly helpful and hospitable welcome from Mathilde and Jan, the young
couple who keep the site and café. We were reliant on Åre TIC for maps and
details of mountain walks; in the event the TIC could provide neither, but on
our arrival at Ristafallet Camping, Mathilde readily provided Åre walking
booklets backed up with sound local knowledge; this was a key factor in our
deciding to stay, along with the excellent value price of 190kr/night,
spotlessly clean facilities and fully-equipped kitchen/dining room, and free
wi-fi internet. But
the best was yet to come. Down at the lovely riverside
camping area another thrilling surprise awaited us: the fast-flowing white-water Indalsälven river, which runs the length of the valley, here curves around the
hillock where the campsite stands, dropping 14m in spectacular fashion over 50m
wide waterfalls right by the camping area (Photo 15 - Ristafallet Camping set above Ristafallet waterfalls); this was Ristafallet which fills the air with clouds of spray and the overpowering sound of rushing
water (see left and right), and gives the campsite its name
(Photo 16 - Ristafallet with clouds of spray and sound of rushing water). We happily pitched
immediately right by the river alarmingly close to the top of the falls, sitting
mesmerised by the roar of rushing water which made conversation difficult.
Later when we turned in, you could not ask for a more soporific sound.
the summit, and to descend by a winding path back to the ski
station, but no such path was visible. Instead we had to continue up the steep
zigzagging track-way under the chair-lift, a tediously monotonous and featureless
route. After an hour's exhausting grind, we emerged onto a flatter area of fell
close to the top of the chair-lift with what appeared to be Välliste's summit in
sight. The wind was now bitterly chill on this exposed shoulder; there was no
rain yet but the overcast sky gave poor light to photograph the distant
vista of lakes and fell-tops. We hoped to pick up a path leading to the summit
to reward our efforts on the grinding ascent so far, but this petered out into
featureless pathless fell, still very wet from snow-melts and devoid of
distinguishing features. With route finding now uncertain to retrieve a return
route, we returned to surer ground and descended by the same stony path (see
left). This had
been a frustratingly disappointing venture with total lack of reward for the
grinding flog up a steep and featureless slope - no summit, no flora and few
photos (Photo 17 - A frustrating climb on the slopes of Välliste fell). As partial compensation we drove to Edåsdalen, a delightful alpine
farming village dotted with farms against the forested backdrop of Välliste's
northern slopes, for a valley-walk to Hensjön lake. At least here we had the
reward of finding for the first time this year another old floral favourite,
Dwarf Cornel, which we had followed last year in Finland through all its stages
of growth from early flower to bright red berries.
The Palaeolithic rock-engravings at Glösa:
our onward route north would take us via the Palaeolithic rock-engravings at Glösa. From the main E14 road along Åredalen, we
turned off at Mörsel onto Route 666, a well-surfaced minor road which undulated
through beautiful birch-fringed spruce forests dropping down into a broad
valley. The forests cleared to give a broad vista over open pastureland dotted
with red-painted farmsteads. We followed the road along the Alsen valley by
Alsensjön lake which sparkled in the bright sunshine reflecting the clear blue
sky. A dusty gravelled lane led uphill to Glösa rock-engravings parking area
from where a path led to the Glösa petroglyphs. The rock-engravings seen earlier
in the trip at Tanum and Högsbyn in Dalsland dating from around 500 BC were
created by late Bronze Age settled pastoralists who supplemented farming with
hunting, and the themes of these later rock-engravings reflected this settled
life-style. The Glösa petroglyphs however are more than twice that age, dating
from an estimated 5,000 BC, created by Palaeolithic nomadic hunter-gathers who
lived by trapping the migrating elks which roamed the forests. These were of the
same age as the earliest of the rock-engravings at Alta seen last year in
Northern Norway.
The path led down into a steep wooded gorge carved
out by the fast-flowing steam which still ran down past the flat-surfaced rocks
on which the petroglyphs had been carved (Photo 21 - Rock slabs with the
Glösa rock-engravings). A wooden viewing platform looked down
across the stream to the flat rock slabs which bore the engravings. Again the
theme reflected the creators' life-style with the one panel containing some 60
engraved elks and reindeer. This must have been a sacred gathering place to
which the trappers returned each year to carve the ritual representations of the
prey on which their livelihood depended. Interpretation of the elk-engravings'
meaning is unknown but must have had some ritualistic significance in ensuring
success in the hunt. The engravings had once been red painted to make them more
visible to modern eyes, but this had either worn away or been purposefully removed to restore the
engravings' original
appearance. Although it was not possible to examine the
details of petroglyphs at close range, it was clear that several of the elks had
within the body outlines circles connected by lines, interpreted as representing
heart and uterus symbolising life and fertility as part of the ritualistic
magic (Photo 22 - Detail of the Palaeolithic Glösa rock-engravings of elks). The setting in the deep and shady woodland valley with the stream flowing
past the rock-slabs added to the mystical ambiance.
A night's stay at the riverside Krokomvikens
Camping: we returned to the E14 running along the main
valley main to reach the small logging town of Krokom, whose commune covers a
large forested hinterland to the NW and whose crest bears the image of the Glösa
elk engravings and the blue ripples of Storsjön lake on whose banks the town
stands. We called in at Krokom's TIC and, as so often at a modest little
town, the girl was a model of helpfulness; she telephoned to confirm that the
campsite was open and gave us details of Östersund, but
then hesitantly added sorry but she had to hurry us so that she could close to
catch her train back home up the valley to Åre; it was another memorable
encounter. Krokom was yet another highly
rated TIC. After a provisions stock-up at the town's ICA supermarket, we found
Krokom's little campsite at the far end of the long bridge spanning the
Indalsälven river; it now flowed more relaxedly after its energetic white-water
antics higher up the Åredalen valley, having flowed en route through Storsjön
lake. We settled into one of the riverside pitches to sit in the afternoon
sunshine (see left) and read up in readiness for our visit to Östersund tomorrow. The warden returned at 6-00pm and
welcomed us with relaxed hospitality: 180kr all-in for a night's stay - just
leave the facilities hut key on my table in the morning, I'll be gone then. The
facilities were spotlessly clean, the showers luxuriously hot, and the kitchen fully equipped with
comfortably furnished common room; another super little campsite and such good
value. After a riverside barbecue in evening sunlight, the sun dipped behind the
riverside birches giving a golden glow (see right) (Photo 23 - Dipping sun over Indalsälven river at Krokomvikens Camping); it was still fully daylight when we turned in at 11-00pm
after another fulfilling day.
Östersund, Jämtland's
provincial capital: the wind swung round in the night and we woke to a
grey overcast morning with the first spots of today's forecast rain. It was
going to be a miserably wet day for our visit to Östersund, Jämtland's
provincial capital. The city had been granted its charter in the late 18th
century by the enterprising King Gustav III in order to keep the region's
lucrative trade of the merchant farmers within Sweden's boundaries rather than
losing taxation to Trondheim over in Norway. With the arrival of the railway
from Sundsvall 100 years later, the town developed fast. In increasingly pouring
rain we drove down the E14 into Östersund's centre and crossed to the large
lake-island of Frösön. Occupied since prehistoric times, the island had taken
its name from the Viking settlement of Frö associated with the pagan Norse god
of fertility. Signs led us eventually to another historical monument, the 11th
century rune stone, now set up in the grounds of the council offices. Sweden's
northernmost rune stone tells the story in its runic script of Austmaður
Guðfastsson (see left), the first Christian missionary to these northern wild lands who
built the bridge across to the island (Photo 24 - Frösön 11th century runestone).
In pouring rain, we drove across the island to find Frösön kyrka with its
separate sturdy wooden Jämtland-style bell-tower, founded in the 11th century on
the hillside overlooking Lake Storsjön. The church is one of Sweden's most
popular summer wedding venues, but in today's gloomy rain a funeral was due to
take place. While the undertaker arranged flowers around the coffin, we
discretely took a brief look at the church's largely Baroque decorations with a
few earlier wall-paintings which had survived fires (Photo 25 - Baroque interior of 11th century Frösön church). With Östersund scarcely
visible in mist across the lake-narrows, we drove back into across the bridge
and managed to park close to Östersund's Stortorget.
Viking period pieces of pictorial
textile are named after the southern Jämtland village in whose church the
tapestries were discovered in 1910 by collectors gathering items of rural
culture for the newly established museum (see right). The museum's normal entry price was
60kr, but with nothing happening at the skansen in pouring rain and the only
display of real interest being the tapestries, this was expensive. The unsmiling
harpy at reception responded patronisingly - that was the price, take it or leave
it; we stood dripping all over her nice clean floor and paid up. Another more
sympathetic attendant met us down at the special Överhogdal tapestries gallery,
and in good English explained their history and technique of production.
returned to the village in search of missing pieces of the tapestry; she made
enquiries at the post office, and the old gent took her to his home where the
little girl reluctantly handed over her doll's blanket in return for 2kr and
promise of a new blanket for her dolly. A workman making repairs at the church
produced from his overall pocket what he thought was a piece of rag he used for cleaning
lamps; he had found it screwed up under the pulpit steps where a search
revealed more pieces of the tapestries. The originally separate pieces had later
been randomly sewn together to make a cover; carbon-dating of the threads used
to stitch the pieces together dated this to the 14th century, but the tapestries
themselves have been dated to between 850~1,100 AD. Superficially the human,
animal and buildings figures and geometric patterns decorating the tapestries
appear to have been embroidered, but closer examination shows that they must
have been woven into the base cloth, a skilful and time-consuming technique
known as 'snare weave' (see left) (Photo 26 - Överhogdal tapestries showing 'snare weave' technique):
the base fabric is woven with linen thread made from
hemp or flax and the figures woven in using woollen threads dyed with vegetable
colouring. The technique requires that the decorative figures are evenly spaced
across
the weave to prevent distortion of the finished fabric, hence the rows of
figures across the tapestries.
outskirts; it seemed somewhat superfluous spraying the
timber stacks in this pouring rain! Just along a side lane, we found Route 45
Camping which had originally been recommended to us by Bex and Ross, the English
cyclists whom we had met last year in Central Finland. The campsite is kept by
a friendly ex-pat Dutchman, Niek and his wife, who had left secure jobs in
Holland to buy and keep this small campsite in what was their favourite country,
Northern Sweden. The site had an immediate air of acceptability to complement
the recommendation and the hospitable welcome we received from Niek. Set in a large
forest clearing at the edge of Hammerdal village, and at 180 kr/night, good
facilities and free site-wide wi-fi, this was one of the most hospitable and
good value campsites of the trip, and we should pass on its recommendation to
all those travelling north in Sweden (see left). With no let up in the pouring rain, we selected a flat
pitch by the river and quickly settled in, and by 7-30pm were sat snugly in the
warm, dry comfort of George with beers in our hand, and a warming supper of beef
and lingonberry stew simmering on the cooker on such a miserably chill, wet
evening. It had been a long and wearying day and, even on a fine day, Östersund
had proved an inconsequential city which even bright sun could have done little
to improve. But the Överhogdal tapestries had more than made up for this; they
were a thrilling discovery worthy of greater knowledge by a wider public and we
should do our best to achieve this by detailing them on our web site. We were
looking forward to taking a break tomorrow with a day in camp at the hospitable
Route 45 Hammerdal Camping (Photo 28 - Route 45 Camping at Hammerdal).
