Cold dips

There are approximately five minutes between the first and the second photo.


In order not to turn up too early at Uncle’s sheltered housing with the aggressive crows, I took a detour to the harbour in Varberg, and plumped for yet another meal-with-a-view. I’d managed several al fresco feeds over a few days, and felt the view of the sea and Varberg’s Kallbadhus (literally cold bath house – you sweat in the sauna and then plunge into the sea below, whatever the time of year) would make a good spot for the cheese sandwich I’d been carrying around for two days.

It really wasn’t bad at all. The sandwich, I mean. To complement my meal I had the rice & strawberry yoghurt (?) foisted on me by Volvina, along with gorgeous pink plastic spoon. I washed everything down with some perfectly lukewarm tap water.

The children turned up at the end of the cheese sandwich, and they were mostly undressed by the time I finished the rice thing. So it was me and the sea and the Kallbadhus, and 25 ten-year-olds, or thereabouts. Considering the water temperature they were brave – or foolhardy – and egged on by their teacher.


Now, how to return the borrowed spoon..?


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