Firstly, sorry. This is a lot of photos here. ...
We still wanted to play in the water a little so we did the old thing of throwing a tennis ball around just to show were still could do physical things. Of course with the odd beer interspersed with the action was bound to occur.
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| King of the mallards getting in the action |
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| And checking his results as the games go on |
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| No opener, no worries |
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| BEER! |
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| Time for another |
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| Idling about in the water |
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| Splash. |
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| Run! We are out of beers! |
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| So lets splash about and have fun. |
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| So lets go for a stroll and look for something to eat |
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| And we find some mussels for dinner, a lazy 5kgs, nice use of the Swedish coloured beer bag |
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| Don't they look a treat |
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| Good enough to eat without shelling apparently |
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| Then we should head up and cook them. |
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| The king of the mallards couldn't wait |
So after a few days of laughs, great food, lots of outdoor fires, some wild food, the odd beer or 55 and some great single malt whiskey (please don't tell my doctor about this), we had to head off. It was sad as we all had a good time and it was a rare FUCC connection in the Northern Hemisphere. Even if the weather was, well, variable.
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| The house |
The environment was really lovely around the house too.
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| The neighbours who eat everything |
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| The whole vibe of the kommun |
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| The boats |
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| The bits |
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| The bites |
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| The bolts |
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| The blues |
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| The bluster |
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| And the boards |
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| The Boy |
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| The bubbles |
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| And bubbles |
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| The big ear |
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| The blue eyes |
Next stop Goteburg where we were to stay at a friends house who had kindly offered us the chance to stay there while they were away in Iceland.
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| Thanks gang, sorry you are out of focus, but I am sure that is how you looked in my eyes. |
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