Saturday, June 14, 2014

Back to Brännö

I can't remember when I last put my feet on Brännö, one of the Goteborg southern archipelago islands. I remember it wasn't a great day from the weather point of view: heavy clouds were covering the sky and I could wonder aimlessly around the island streets without crossing my sight with a single human being. From a photographic point of view it was the perfect situation. A pity I just had my mobile phone and nothing more ("Thinking Spots").
So the idea of getting back on it with something better than a mobile can has been waiting silently in my head until a couple of days ago, when I packed the old Powershot together with cables and notebooks in my trolley. Timing was planned to be short but I had the seasonal stretch of the day time at my side. Just needed a weather good enough to let me go.

Upon my arrival the aircraft made a tour of the bay area facing the river mouth and soon the silent idea in the corner of my mind woke up and started shouting. Brännö and its sisters island of the archipelago were there under the wing.

In the few minutes of wait before disembarking, watching at the luggage people relaxing into their van, I realised that I had muted my spirit of initiative for too long and took mind to look for the best opportunity for finding again myself alone and heed for that sprinkle of limestone in the cold waters of the northern seas. Last time I had been in Goteborg was the end of January: freezing cold, blocks of ice drifting along the river, bad travel company, no daylight and very little time.

So, after a couple of busy and frantic days spent in meeting rooms and long evening talks about our company situation, while sitting on downtown restaurants tables, I eventually found myself alone with still a few hours of daylight to enjoy. At 6:00 p.m. I was still in office; forty minutes later I had already rushed into my hotel room, changed myself, dropped PC and other useless things and gone out to catch bus #114 at the stop few hundreds meters away.
On my arrival at Saltholmen pier, I had to make my last run of the day as all three ferries were about to leave. Nothing to complain: I knew I had twenty minutes to rest before landing on the island.

The short navigation that many islanders do every day was to me like a trip back in time and into the core of some well known swedish traditions. Passing by an array of all alike red fishermen huts (don't ask me about the swedish name, I know the norvegian equivalent but could be in error) we reached the pier of Asperö island, another small stretch of rock separated by Brännö by just a short swim distance.

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