Sand between my toes and against my skin has never been all that pleasurable, even when I was a child or teenager and my mother took us to Florida for annual holidays. Crowds of sunscreen-covered folks, mingled smells of cooking food, and the cacophony of overlapping voices are also nothing of interest.
But — give me an opportunity to visit the seaside in the autumn or winter, to walk (with my shoes on!) with the wind whipping my hair and my cheeks becoming bright shades of red from the chilly temperatures, and I will happily keep you company!
The Baltic was just behind the treeline in our cottage in Ystad, quietly lapping at the sand a mere one-block distance down a narrow lane. We noticed that it’s a year-round spot for locals who are taking a daily stroll, walking the dog, or ambling along on their bicycles or mobility scooters.
Hope you enjoy these glimpses of off-season seaside life in Ystad!
Needing a break from art and design museums, we decided to get off the highway for two nights in Ystad, Sweden after we crossed The Bridge (yes, the one in the Scandi-Noir television series) and headed south from Malmo.
Just as we were leaving Aarhus, Denmark, the skies turned dark and ominous and we drove through heavy burst of rain and hail. The green-tinged sky looked as if tornadoes could drop out of it at any moment.
Fortunately, the weather cleared by the time we reached the border of Denmark and Sweden and we had a pleasant drive for the rest of the day.
Below is the Oresund Bridge — the one featured in the Swedish-Danish co-production television series The Bridge. Some tips for those who travel this way, there is a Border Force booth that is manned by police at the end. For the first time since we’ve been travelling in mainland Europe, we were required to produce our passports — and the fee to cross the bridge is over €50. That was a bit unexpected!
I needed to catch up on some writing and photo editing and a couple of days by the Baltic Sea in the off-season sounded quite relaxing. It was — and we ended up staying for five and a half days, not two.
Getting in and out of the van multiple times a day, whether to have a meal, see one of the sights, or just stretch our legs, was getting really tiresome.
The cottage I had rented more than met our expectations — it exceeded them with the attention to detail that the owners had paid when they renovated it. We had a fully-equipped kitchen and could cook for ourselves, removing the need to go out to restaurants or bring back sandwiches or salads. The beds were comfy, the neighbourhood was quiet, and the hot tub on the back deck was a genuine bonus.
For someone who is so research-minded, I had done ZERO research into things to do in the area. So it was a very pleasant surprise to discover that there was a movie and television studio in Ystad — Ystad Studios — where the 40-plus episodes of the Scandi-Noir crime series Wallander had been filmed. Portions of the series The Bridge were also produced there. Some of the sets from each of those shows, plus some movies we had never heard of, had been preserved to form a tour. What fun!
Off-season travelling often means less-crowded conditions. But we never anticipated having the entire studio tour area to ourselves. Below are some images from that tour. And yes, I know it’s cheesy, but we both enjoyed sitting in one of the leather chairs from the Wallander series and taking pictures to capture the moment.
An added bonus to staying put for several days was that Mark finally had a chance to ride his new bike someplace other than the congested roads of Essex in England!
NEXT UP — some views of the Baltic seacoast at Ystad, Sweden.
After leaving Kolding and our wonderful visit to the Trapholt, Museum, we took a less than two-hour drive north to Aarhus to see yet another Danish museum that is primarily dedicated to modern art and design.
Before our arrival, we hadn’t known that Arne Jacobsen, one of our favourite Danish designers, was one of the architects for the City Hall and Clock Tower opened in the early 1940s in Aarhus during World War II.
We had intentionally chosen an apartment that was a short 7-minute walk to the museum, allowing us to park the car and not worry about driving in the city. Mark took a few early morning walks while I was still sleeping, so a sprinkling of his pictures are included below.
The AROS Museum’s contemporary interior is housed in the 2004-built fourth version of the museum. The original was founded in 1859. Due to copyright issues, you will notice that I have not included any images of the artwork within the galleries.
The ring of coloured glass on the top of the building is a walkway that allows you to have a full view of the city all around you.
Stepping through the doors of AROS, we were presented with an array of levels and lashings of bold phrases painted on the walls.
Accessibility is never an issue within this museum since there are glass elevators as well as curved ramps of easy-to-use stairs.
AROS also has a multi-area cafe and shop on the ground floor.
As we left the museum that evening, I turned around to see what the building would look like when it was lit up at night. It was equally as delightful as during the daytime.
Below are some of the wonderful discoveries that Mark made on his morning walks. Enjoy!
It couldn’t have been any greyer — flat skies and a persistent thin drizzle keeping everything damp to the touch outside. But we had a destination in mind — the IKEA Museum in Almhult, Sweden — located in the original 1950s building that had been the first store in the retail empire.
The exhibits are spread out over several floors, but the entire experience moves at a sensible pace when compared to the slower-paced decision making necessary when shopping in one of their retail stores.
The museum’s purpose is to explain the origins and history behind the founding of IKEA and why the harsh economic conditions of the region, both before World War II and immediately afterwards, had contributed to the ideas that fermented inside the head of Ingvar Kamprads.
Interestingly, the museum goes back to the rural poverty of the mid-1800s, a time that saw tens of thousands of Swedes emigrating in hopes of a better life, usually to the United States of America.
Once the exhibit arrives at the pre-war years of the 1930s, it very truthfully reveals that Kamprad’s beloved grandmother was a devoted follower of Hitler and believed in his cause. Fortunately, although Kamprad himself flirted with those ideas as a young teenager, he soon proved that his destiny was to empower Swedish society as a whole through good design at a fair cost.
The exhibits that showed how the building must have looked in 1958 when it opened were particularly interesting. There was nothing there that we wouldn’t have had in our own home today.
We arrived at lunch time after I needed to sleep in a bit (chronic insomnia struck again!) and headed straight for the meatballs. Mark were the classic ones, but mine were salmon instead.
The lounge area of the cafe had a gas-effects fireplace and it was a cozy place for the informal business meetings we saw being conducted.
It’s a very pleasant museum and the historical aspects of the exhibits allow the visitor to understand the background history that eventually created the global powerhouse that is the IKEA retail empire. Highly recommended!
As we travel from country to country, we’ve factored in time to indulge our love of art and design. So my heart beat a little faster when I learned that we could see an original Arne Jacobsen prototype for modular housing design from 1971 — and a visit to the Trapholt Museum in Kolding was planned.
You’d think I would have headed straight to that exhibit first — but no — I was lightheaded from hunger. As we walked to the far end of the museum, we were astonished at the serene view over the fjord below from the large windows of the cafe.
After we dined, a visit to the Kubeflex prototype made us realise how far ahead of his time Arne Jacobsen was when he designed it and then died shortly afterwards in 1971. Good architecture and design for the masses, not just for the wealthy, was something he aspired to. Each module of the Kubeflex was 11 metres square and could be assembled in a variety of combinations according to the requirements of the new owners.
Unfortunately, Jacobsen’s untimely death meant that the Kubeflex design never went into production. Instead, the prototype was used as a summer house for over 30 years by the Jacobsen family.
The next must-see exhibit was the gallery containing work by Nanna Ditzel. The items on display contained bold colours that were visually arresting!
The media and the art world may call it ‘retro chic’ — but there was a nostalgic edge to everything we saw. The concepts that are now quite desirable again were so far ahead of their time.
Next up — images from Mark’s rambles through Kolding.