Northern Sweden . . . flatpacks,meatballs and fish!

We have now moved on from Finland into Sweden.
We left Oulu yesterday and drove north, apparently quite close to the coast, although we rarely saw any sign of the sea because of the forests which surrounded us, and eventually came to Tornio in Finland which morphed into Haparanda, Sweden just by crossing a river bridge.

 

The first major feature of Haparanda which became visible was a towering IKEA sign and, as it was about lunchtime and we were in need of a comfort stop, we decided to call in. The place was huge, at least twice the floor area of the one in Leeds and being IKEA you couldn't go straight to the restaurant but had to follow the arrows on the floor. (At least they put the WCs near the entrance door!) We eventually found the restaurant but had also somehow nearly filled one of their yellow bags with various essential purchases. The meatballs tasted much the same as they always do, although Edith had a seafood salad that seemed a bit more locally inspired. We had no Swedish Kronor at all, but assumed, correctly as it turned out, that being just across the border from Finland they would be geared up to accept euros. We then made another short stop at a small town later in the afternoon, tracked down an ATM machine and sorted out the currency deficiency.

Our  camping guide book is a bit short of recommended sites in this part of northern Sweden, so we found one in a Swedish language brochure and headed for it. About 10km before we got there we passed a very picturesque site beside a fast flowing river and wondered if we should have stopped. When we found the site we were heading for it was isolated and empty with a telephone contact number for reception. It was raining and going dark and we made a quick decision to return the 10km to Kamlunge, where we were welcomed by a very friendly elderly Swedish gentleman with limited English who was the site warden for the local caravan club. He happily checked us in and even invited us to join him and his friends for a sauna, which we declined as graciously as we could. He explained that he was a fisherman and the river was a popular salmon river and he would be out fishing in the morning.
This morning it had stopped raining, although there was a cold wind blowing. Whilst eating breakfast we watched two men across the river lifting fish out of the river with a net on the end of a long pole.

A little later I met our friend, the site warden who said he had been fishing since 6am and insisted that I come down to the riverside and see the 40 fish that he had caught. I went to get my camera, and Edith, and we found him, with his two friends in a little hut complete with a little log stove and several cans of beer. They had indeed caught 40 fish and they were eager to demonstrate the technique with the net.

 

 The fishing technique . . . . . . . .  and the catch!

It is apparently a traditional local activity and it seemed a bit too easy, as the fish just seemed to swim straight into the net. Still it did leave plenty of time to sit round in the warm cabin, chatting and drinking the beer, so it was easy to see how it had survived as a local sport.

We left that quirky little site and had a lovely drive along nearly deserted roads for about two hours. The sun came out for a while and there were many lakes and rivers beside the road as well as a lot of trees.
After stopping at a supermarket to stock up with bread and fruit and finding that the checkout was manned by a Scotsman, we eventually arrived here at Arvidsjaur in Swedish Lapland. The campsite is a bit more commercial and organised than the one last night but hasn't as much character. The temperature has dropped quite a bit and is forecast to go as low as 6 degrees overnight so I may have to put the insulated covers on the front windows.