Kayaking, camping, and culinary pursuits in a Swedish archepelago.

Manu meets us outside our hotel in Norrköping at 10:15. Dilini had come the day before, I the day before that. Carmen was already inside the van; Anna sits next to her. I had met Carmen the day before when picking up Dilini from the train station. Dilini had ridden the sleeper train from Berlin with sharing a cabin with Carmen. Her ears had perked up when Carmen had asked whether the train stopped in Norrköping. Dilini thought there could only be one reason a tourist might be taking that particular train to this particular town and asked if she were embarking on a kayaking culinary tour. She was!

Caitlin had introduced me to Do the North in Buenos Aires a year ago. We met at dinner organized by a Food Meetupat group, seated next to each other at a Chinese restaurant while a storm raged outside. She had recently joined a culinary adventure and raved about it. That night I emailed Helena to ask when 2025 spots would open up. She promised to let me know.

We drive out of the city into the countryside, the buildings giving way to farmland. Passing one town Manu tells us that it’s known as the ice cream town for its three competing shops. He tells us that the buildings we pass are all painted red originally because people wanted to emulate the king, who had painted his buildings red. Later, they discovered that something in the pigment also helped preserve the wood and so it stuck.

It takes a little over an hour to reach our base in Sankt Anna where Thomas welcomes us and sketches out the plan. We’ll be kayaking out to an island which will serve as our base from which we will embark on other kayaking and foraging excursions.

We unload our gear and repack it into dry bags, leaving our original bags behind. We load up the kayaks with our stuff and tents and sleeping bags and coolers of beer and wine and food. We’re issued life jackets, kayaking skirts, and splash jackets. Thomas breaks out a box of sandwiches and we eat lunch at a picnic table before heading down to the kayaks where Thomas shows us how to put the skirts on and how to seal ourselves into the kayaks.

Helena is expecting us on the island at 17:30 and Thomas checks the time. We still have some foraging to do on the way and so we load ourselves into the kayaks and push off to begin our adventure.

We kayak amongst the islands in the archipelago. Some are inhabited and we pass a few buildings here and there. At one point we pass a small dock with a sauna on it and Dilini and I kayak closer for a better look. Somehow I had thought we’d be in a more remote area and am surprised to see as many homes as we do. There are few people on the water, however.

After paddling for an hour or so Thomas guides us to an island so we can look for wild garlic. Thomas tells us to look for a fairly large blade growing out of the ground. He points out an example, but while the shape is similar it’s not the same. He pulls up a photo on his phone. In my mind’s eye I had seen a garlic bulb but wild garlic is apparently just the plant. He tells us when we find it we’ll be able to tell by the scent.

We follow Thomas into the woods, snapping up leaves and sniffing to see if we’ve found what we’re searching for without luck. Dilini picks wildflowers and makes a bouquet she continually adds to. Thomas starts to worry. Helena will be upset if we arrive empty-handed. And yet this is the place where the wild garlic can be found.

Dilini stops and asks Thomas if what she’s found is wild garlic. He ambles over and sniffs the leaf. It is! Dilini has found it. She had actually tossed aside a leaf before she realized what it was. You can almost feel Thomas relax. She passes it around. It smells like garlic, the leaf has a soft texture to it, nothing like the rough leaves I’ve been picking. Thomas is surprised how small the leaves are; usually they grow much bigger. He tells us that once we find it we’ll find much more in the area and it’s true. It’s everywhere around us where we are. We get to picking.

Back in the kayaks Thomas leads us to the island. We approach from the north, towards an inlet between islands. Thomas tells us he can almost see Helena. A red tent marks the spot.

While paddling I had tasted the water, surprised to find it as fresh as it is. Thomas tells me that the Baltic Sea never gets that salty. There are so many rivers emptying into it from the countries surrounding it, and there’s limited exchange with the North Sea.

We glide into a small bay and beach the kayaks. Walking up the small embankment we see a wooden table has been constructed next to a firepit where all the cooking will be done. We unload the kayaks and Thomas shows us how to set up our tents and our camping chairs. Anna asks Dilini if she’s managed to follow everything. No, she says. But Eugene has and will help us set up tents. And I do.

We set the tents up around the bay, Dilini on a rock jutting out into the water, the rest of us up a hill overlooking the kayaks and Dilini’s tent. Someone suggests a swim and we all change and go for a quick dip, some quicker than others. The water is cold, Thomas surmises 17°C, and I am in and out.

Helena invites us in for a snack. She’s made pizzas with fish roe, caramelized onions, cheese, and dill. They’re a little like bilinis and they’re delicious. We devour them and then Helena tells us we’ll be put to work. There are a few things to prepare for the rest of the trip: a strawberry jam, flatbread for one of our lunches, herring to pickle for another lunch, and juniper mayonnaise to go with the flatbread. She splits us into teams, advising us to work with someone we don’t know, but it’s a little unclear to her who doesn’t know who; we’ve all become fast friends.

In the end, Anna and I pair up to make flatbread and jam. We pick up our assignments and begin with the bread before moving onto the jam.

For dinner Helena cooked a leg of lamb, slow-roasting it over the fire. She can’t wait to see how it turned out. She serves it with root celery, onions and fennel, capers, anchovies, dill and lemon. It’s delicious.

We don’t eat till late, not realizing just how late it is. The sun doesn’t set until after 22h, and we think it’s hours earlier than it is before tucking into the food.

We wash dishes in the sea before turning in, the sky still light on the horizon past 23h.

I wake up at 0315 with the sun. I step outside my tent to a beautiful pre-sunrise. I can see Dilini’s tent across the bay, our kayaks just below. The water is still, a mirror to the skies.

I put on my boots and walk to the other side of the island. An almost full moon hovers close to the horizon, reflected in the sea. I watch birds float across the sky, dip into the calm water.

Back near my tent a bird stands on a small rock just off the shore. As I raise my camera it takes flight. It keeps close to the surface of the water until it reaches the far island where I lose it in the trees.

I go back to sleep and wake up again closer to 08h. Outside, Dilini’s tent has disappeared, and I wonder if she’s rolled into the sea during the night. It turns out she’s merely moved her tent back from the exposed rock. When the sun rose at around 04h her tent had become a sauna and she was roasting.

Carmen proposes a morning swim. I join her for a quick dip, but she has a proper swim, staying in the cold water for far longer than any of the rest of us can bear.

For breakfast Helena makes kolbulle: pork pancakes with lingonberries. It’s a simple batter, poured over sauteed pork. With the acid of the lingonberries it’s a fantastic start to the day.

We sunbathe after breakfast, letting the sun warm our bodies after sitting in the shade. Thomas pulls out a map of the archipelago and shows us where we are, where we began, and proposes a paddle around the islands. There’s a wind from the south and he suggests we paddle first into it and then surf our way back north where we could find a spot for lunch and then paddle back from there.

We change into our kayaking outfits and don life preservers and skirts, tucking ourselves back into our spots. We kayak south until we reach a protected area and can paddle south no more. Thomas directs us to a small sheltered cove and we tie our kayaks up together. We’ve stopped for fika. He tells me that there’s coffee and tea and snacks in the middle compartment of Anna and Carmen’s kayak. I unpack and pour coffee and pass snacks around, a madeline-like confection covered in a thick layer of chocolate.

We kayak north along an island. I spot a sandy beach and ask Thomas if we should make camp there. He agrees and notes that he’s never seen the beach before. He usually sets up camp on a slab of rock on the other side. We unpack the kayaks and Thomas prepares our lunch: the flatbreads Anna and I had made the day before with roasted moose, mustard, plum chutney, apples, juniper mayonaise made by Carmen and Dilini, and leeks. We assemble our own sandwiches.

Thomas encourages us to eat the moose; he says there’s plenty but I wonder if there’s a cultural difference when defining ‘plenty’ as the amount on the plate looks scarce to me. It turns out that he’s only portioned out a little bit, and holds up the bag which is still almost 2/3 full. We go to town.

We contemplate a swim after lunch but decide against it, deciding to enjoy the late afternoon sun while picking at the remainder of our lunch.

It’s not long to kayak back to camp. We approach once again from the north and are welcomed by the familiar red tent. Warm from paddling we hop into the water where Carmen once again outlasts us. I vow to spend at least as much time in the water as Carmen the next day.

The sun slowly slips towards the horizon, and the light turns golden. I open a bottle of wine and share it with Carmen, and fetch beers for Anna and Dilini.

For dinner, Helena makes perch with mashed potatoes and stinging nettles. I’m amazed at how good all of the food is. I had expected a certain level given Caitlin’s recommendation and the nature of the trip, but every meal has far exceeded expectations.

After dinner Helena has a surprise for us. She’s prepared a cheese and beer tasting for us: Wrångebäck, Mesost, blakornmalt, and a Finnish goat cheese. I skip the wine but dig into the cheese. The last is a surprise, orange in color, the flavor of a caramel. It’s good for a bite or two, but not something any of us would consider eating a lot of.

Carmen has made her first deposit in the woods. As we retire after dinner she jokes that when she’s back home she’s going to start using her lawn. She starts laughing at the thought of her neighbors glancing over to see her squatting in the yard and can’t stop. He laughter spreads across the bay to the islands beyond.

The next morning I sit out on the rock overlooking the water. The sun is warm and I heat up quickly. The water beckons. Too lazy to head back to my tent to change I strip down to my boxer shorts and dive into the water.

Carmen and Anna have been sitting quietly in front of their tents, but the sound of me breaking the surface of the water seems to have broken a silence that had settled over the camp. Carmen and Anna begin chatting as I float on the sea.

The water feels warmer today, or I’ve become used to the temperature. I swim for a lot longer than I have; when I climb out I am shivering. I head to my tent and put on almost all my layers and return to the rock to sit and warm up. Anna and Carmen have gone for a swim; Carmen lingers in the depths.

For breakfast we have english muffins with the strawberry jam Anna and I had mdae and a fantastic roasted granola prepared by Helena with sourmilk. We crouch around the fire while we eat.

After breakfast Helena puts some beets on the coals to roast them for our dinner. I pick up a life jacket and find a place in the shade to take a nap.

The day before Dilini had told me she was done kayaking. But after my nap I find her sitting nearby contemplating an activity. She’s open to kayaking maybe to the island across the way. Helena had floated the idea of swimming there to forage. I ask Dilini if she wants to hike around our island. She’s not interested in that much activity and I tell her I’ll join her for a kayaking foraging trip next door. I head to my tent to change and she tells me she’ll tell Helena.

While I’m changing I hear Carmen and Anna calling out to me. They’ve decide to swim across and ask me to join. I gather clothes to put in a dry bag and don my swimsuit.

It’s an easy swim across and I’m thankful that Dilini and Thomas have chosen to paddle across with our dry clothes. We walk across the island, foraging in the marsh while mosquitos feast upon our legs. Heading up a hill on the other side of the marsh we see the foundation of a former dwelling and looking out across the sea towards other islands on the far side of the water. Thomas tells us that once, after a storm, his group had sat here to watch the sunset. Turning around, he caught sight of a double rainbow behind them. He pulls out his phone to show us photographs.

Back on our island Helena prepares a hot apple cider for our fika. We sit in warm clothes and let the cider warm us from the inside.

Thomas asks us if we’re interested in learning how to carve wood. He pulls out a box of tools and wood. He tells us we can carve spoons or butter knives, and show us a few example spoons that people have started and discarded. He demonstrates how to use the tools, propping the knife against his thumb, carving small chunks out of the block.

I pick up a block of wood and try to imitate him, and then give up in favor of broad strokes as I try to trim the wood into the shape of a butter knife. Dilini and Carmen watch and decide against playing with sharp things. Helena invites them to help her make rhubarb crumble.

At one point I ask about sandpaper in order to smooth the sides of my knife, which looks more like a butcher’s knife than a butter knife. Helena tells me that true artists do everything with the knife. I accept the challenge and start planing my surfaces with a shallow angle.

The rhubarb crumble is ready to cook and Helena hangs it over the fire. She adds burning logs to the top of the pot so that the crumble can bake evenly in the pot.

I leave my knife in the box and Anna asks if she can take it. I tell her I’m happy for her to have it and give it to her.

For dinner we are joined by two others from Do the North. They’ve paddled over to have dinner and to bring us some baking soda for the crumble and for the waffles Helena will make for breakfast tomorrow. Helena plates our starters and leaves them on the table as we prepare to make the mains and sides.

Carmen has collected wildflowers and makes a bouquet for the table’s centerpiece before making the potatos. Helena enlists me to start the venison, and I watch and then flip them as the bottoms become caramelized. I end up wandering off as they cook and Helena takes over, testing their firmness and then their internal temperature before taking them off to rest. Finally, Anna works the griddle to cook asparagus. And then dinner is ready.

The venison is delicious, cooked perfectly. The potatos and asparagus accompany the main perfectly. It’s another fantastic meal in a series of fantastic meals. Later, Helena will ask what our favorite meal was and I’ll be hard-pressed to name just one.

After diner, someone proposes a sunset kayak. The wind has died down and the water is glass. Dilini says she’ll come but she doesn’t want to paddle. Thomas tells her she doesn’t have to. She tells him she’s not even going to bring a paddle. A passenger princess, as Anna has it.

Thomas offers me the use of his kayak and I’m amazed at how light and maneuverable it is. I immediately race off ahead of the group around the opposite island. Coming off the northern tip I see herons silhouetted on the shore, a perfect reflection at their feet. As the others catch up they take flight, barely disturbing the surface of the water.

Gulls on wing cackle as they glide across the sky. Anna tells me she thought it was me, laughing at them for being so slow. She challenges me to a race to the island in front, intending to backpedal towards camp. She wonders how long it would take for me to catch on.

We stop in a space that seems equidistant from the islands around us to take in the scenery, watch the colors leak from the sky. It’s quiet and still and none of us seems to want to disturb this moment shared between us.

In the early morning it rains. I hear it on the surface of the tent and then hear it stop. I hope the rain has passed. But when it’s time to get out of bed the rain begins again. Thomas has set up tarps over the campfire and over an area where we’re to stage our gear. Dilini is already up and packed and takes down her tent in the rain. I follow suit, stashing my gear under the tarp has set up.

Helena makes waffles for breakfast, adding strawberry jam and whipped cream to each segment of the waffle, inviting us to eat it with our hands. Anna and Carmen join us under the tarp, the rain slowly abating as we finish our breakfast.

Thomas tells us in the winter when the winds are coming from the east, people will skate to Stockholm, taking the train back home. He tells us that people have gear on them in case they fall through the ice, and shows us photos of people kitted out for the trip.

The rain has stopped by the time breakfast is over and Anna and Carmen strike their tents in the relative dryness. We pack the kayaks, our gear seemingly to take up less space than when we arrived, and get ready to paddle back. Thomas checks the wind and tells us it’s coming from the west; we’ll be padding into it the entire time. We look at the map and decide to head north and then west, trying to stay in the lee of the islands to avoid the worst of it.

I verify the general direction we’re going with Thomas and he offers to let me lead. I demur; we’ll paddle ahead but I’ll keep checking with Thomas on our heading. Rounding the island to the north we hit the wind and the waves. It’s slow going until we reach the lee of the next island, after which the paddling becomes easier.

It’s a bit of a struggle getting back when we hit open water and have to fight against the wind, but after a couple of hours we can see the small building that marks our base. Dana is there to help us in before she heads off to strike camp.

We unpack the kayaks and repack our bags, taking our clothes out of the dry bags. For lunch we eat the pickled herring Carmen and Dilini had made on our first day on the island, Thomas spearing the fish from the jar and assembling open-faced sandwichess for us.

After lunch we pack the car and head back towards Norrköping. I ask if we can stop for ice cream in Söderköping, remembering what Manu had said about the town in passing. I offer to buy for everyone. Carmen has time before her train and Thomas agrees.

Söderköping is a cute town, and one I’d want to spend more time in. Thomas takes us to his favorite ice cream shop of the three, Konfekthörnan. The options are extensive.

With ice creams in hand, Thomas takes us on a walking tour of the town. Our first stop is the oldest bookstore in Sweden. Through the open door Dilni spots a book with a cat on the cover. The book is called Antarctica. I walk into the store but don’t see it until she points it out to me. It seems like a sign and she picks it up and takes it to the counter. It’s a collection of short stories by Claire Keegan, and Carmen mentions she wrote Small Things like These, about the Magdalene Laundries. I had read the latter recently and made a mental note to check the former out from the library.

Our tour continues to the Sankt Laurentii kyrka, a church with a distinctive belltower. Anna asks if Thomas has done this tour before and he tells us he’s stopped here and shown guests around. Anna is disappointed we’re not the first, but perks up when Thomas says he’s not been in the church before.

Thomas asks us if we want to see the canal and leads us through the town towards its northern edge. He tells us that canals span the width of Sweden, connecting the Baltic to the North Sea. We walk to the lock and stand over it, comparing the height of the canal with the water beyond and pass by another ice cream place that Thomas says will have lines down the street on the weekend. His kids prefer this one because the ice creams are huge and we see people eating sundaes on the patio.

The parlor takes its name from strawberries and I wonder if they have wild strawberry ice cream. They don’t, but I take a cone of strawberry ice cream anyway; it’s not as good as the ice cream at Konfekthörnan.

Thomas drops us off at the hotel in Norrköping. Carmen has a little time before she needs to head to the train station; Anna’s train isn’t until 22h. We all head upstairs and I leave Anna in my room to shower. I hang out with Carmen in the library until she has to go and then fall asleep on the couch while catchiing up on family news.

Dilini has some work to do and Anna decides to stroll through town. I take a shower and then send a message out asking if they want to grab a drink before dinner. I head to Kitchen and Cocktails and find a seat outside, order a sparking wine. It’s busy, the busiest I’ve seen Norrköping. Anna joins me and then Dilini and we soak up the sun while we drink our wines and cocktails. For dinner we head to Stadsvakten, where we’re seated inside for our appetizers, but manage to snag a table outside for our mains and dessert. It’s a lovely end to the weekend, and we linger until I notice the time. Anna has a train to catch.

We walk back to the hotel to fetch Anna’s bags and bid her adieu. I ask Dilini if she wants to get another drink before heading to bed and we set off in search of an open bar.

She orders shots, which taste like blueberry pie, and we take our drinks to an outside table. The light fades as cars zoom down the street for no apparent reason. Tomorrow we’ll head back to Stockholm and part ways, to meet again in London in about a month’s time. It’s been great reconnecting and I’m excited to be seeing her again so soon.

Anna has told me she’ll most likely end up in New York, which is where I’d probably see her next. I have thoughts on returning to Sydney next year after visiting Japan with my cousins, but it’s as yet unplanned. But ultimately, who knows where any of us will be, and when our paths may once again cross? In the back of my mind I still hear her singing: “Castaways. We are all castaways . . .” 🇸🇪