Brännö had a designated swimming area, but what fun is that? I ventured to the opposite end of the island and found what I was looking for, my reason for adventuring: A locals-only sort of dock (though what Swedish locals would ever outwardly complain about imposters?) with only a few old couples and a handful of giggling kids. Plenty of rock to soak up some sun on, undisturbed. And there it was, my little dream home, nestled into rock on its own tiny island across from where I swam. Apparently getting a place in the Gothenburg archipelago is impossible if you’re not from some old Christian Swedish family. I never imagined I’d long to be religious.
Brännö. Gothenburg. Sweden.
My second time at Torö, south of Stockholm, it was too intense for me to surf. It was evident only the gnarlier of the locals were out. An estimated 4 second period was truly more like 2 seconds and I could barely get past the break. A humbling and enlightening experience. I find it’s more and more important to know where my limits are and accept that sometimes it’s better to back off, something I’ve always found difficult. It has been rather literally 7 years. I wanted to surf so much it broke my heart, but better to stay onshore and still be in one solid piece (I truly could imagine myself drowning there) so I can try again after training in warmer, slower seas.
Torö Stenstrand. Sweden.