For anyone looking to gamble on a slightly less conventional, busy vacation, why not indulge in the delights of Falsterbo - Sweden’s best kept summer sanctum. For an experience that encapsulates natural beauty, tranquillity, culture, drinking and design; look no further.
Over summer, I decided to embark on a rather unconventional adventure to Falsterbo, near Malmo, at the most southern point of Sweden. You will probably never have heard of it, and I was in the same predicament until a friend from the area invited me over to visit. I assumed that if the women were anything like I'd heard in legend, then it was worth a punt.
The trip was booked to coincide with the area's famous horse show week, which draws in tourists from all over Sweden, as many of them have summer homes there. I'm not a horse enthusiast or anything, but it sounded a little bit like the equivalent to my experiences of Cornwall, which always conjures fond memories.
On the journey, I had to take a detour via Copenhagen; flights were fairly reasonable at around £100 from Manchester, with a cheaper alternative involving an undesirable overnight bus journey from Oslo. Having never flown alone before, and with limited knowledge of Scandinavian culture, I was a tad apprehensive. But on arrival in Copenhagen airport, that immediately changed.
My first impression was of how culturally diverse the place was; granted I only spent an hour there, but it was long enough to get a sense of equality. The other main observation was that everybody spoke English far better than I could dream of speaking Danish/Swedish. As a typical Brit, what a relief.
It was also incredibly easy to travel across to Sweden, from literally underneath the airport. A cheap train ride on the Malmo line across the engineering wonder that is the Øresund bridge brought me swiftly to Hyllie, to meet my friend. The public transport puts ours to shame: it was prompt, clean and spacious.
However, the car mechanics do not. Question: How many Swedes does it take to change a tyre? I don't know either, but it took them six days to do so, which is absurd. No matter, I got to experience another of their superior transport systems - the bus. The one downside is it requires a jojo card to purchase tickets (think Oyster card), no krona allowed.
Another shock to my system was how good looking everyone is, not to mention how fit and in-shape. There was a seemingly complete absence of obesity, which I'd later learn is due to everyone cycling everywhere. Oh, and the guys all tower over me; I'm over 6 foot myself, but my neck was constantly craning upwards.
Observing, the place itself it was as beautiful as the people. The week of sunshine quashed my misguided opinion of year-round tundra. A preference of cycling to driving kept it quiet and clean and the houses were rustic yet stylish. It came as no surprise when I was informed that Freddy Ljunberg and Leo Tolstoy's ancestry had houses there.
I was eager to experience my first night out; although buying alcohol could only be done in specialist stores, and under 21s could only buy lower percentile beers - a wise approach in retrospect. Upon reaching Strandbaden, the local night club, my British bravado had caused me to drink far too much beforehand and I barely made it through the doors. The cyclists seemed to make it alright though, I’ve never seen so many inebriated people operating bikes in a small area; clearly there is no protocol for drink riding.
However, I was sensible in latter visits and the club had a unique, classy yet liberal vibe. It attracted local DJ's and world renowned names of the Swedish progressive house movement alike; including excellent performances from Adrian Lux and Albin Myers. The experience was euphoric and unparalleled - with a distinct lack of substance abuse that accompanies this music scene back home.
Entry to the club was the equivalent to similar nights in Blighty (£12-20), although alcohol wasn't cheap - with pints costing around £5. Later I learnt to my surprise when counting the change from two shots of Sambuca that it amounted to roughly £19. The food wasn't particularly cost effective either, but with numerous pleasant cafes and bistros, the experience is worth it to sit in tranquillity and enjoy the passing views.
Another recommendation is to avoid opening conversations with "Hey", as Hej is hello in Swedish and you will be forced to nod politely as you are bombarded with words you've never heard before. Although, upon discovering you are English, the females will take a particular interest and you will be asked to repeat "banana" amongst other phrases.
After heavy nights of consuming, the best way to relax was to head down to the quiet beach, swim and enjoy the sun. There was also football pitches nearby for the more sporty individuals, which was the best way to sweat out the previous nights toxins. However, the misguided shots from our kick about unfortunately aggravated the travellers there for the horse show week, so work on your aim a little beforehand.
With that in mind, I insisted on seeing what the fuss was about and we attending a show jumping event. Not my particular cup of tea, but a good local turnout provided an entertaining spectacle.
For those who are after a bit more than just kicking back and enjoying the great scenery and activities I mentioned, Malmo is just 40 minutes away. There you can visit the immense St. Peter's Church, the Kallbadhuset sauna and swimming pool, the famous Lilla Torg outdoor cafe and restaurant area; or for the more adventurous the Stapelbaddsparken (Skate Park).
After a week, I was incredibly reluctant to go home, although my budget was dwindling; the only down side in what was an incredible holiday. With that said, you definitely pay for what you get. Plus I could go home knowing that the legend about the beauty of Swedish women isn't just a myth.
*This article was written for the style of Nowhere Mag
The trip was booked to coincide with the area's famous horse show week, which draws in tourists from all over Sweden, as many of them have summer homes there. I'm not a horse enthusiast or anything, but it sounded a little bit like the equivalent to my experiences of Cornwall, which always conjures fond memories.
On the journey, I had to take a detour via Copenhagen; flights were fairly reasonable at around £100 from Manchester, with a cheaper alternative involving an undesirable overnight bus journey from Oslo. Having never flown alone before, and with limited knowledge of Scandinavian culture, I was a tad apprehensive. But on arrival in Copenhagen airport, that immediately changed.
My first impression was of how culturally diverse the place was; granted I only spent an hour there, but it was long enough to get a sense of equality. The other main observation was that everybody spoke English far better than I could dream of speaking Danish/Swedish. As a typical Brit, what a relief.
It was also incredibly easy to travel across to Sweden, from literally underneath the airport. A cheap train ride on the Malmo line across the engineering wonder that is the Øresund bridge brought me swiftly to Hyllie, to meet my friend. The public transport puts ours to shame: it was prompt, clean and spacious.
However, the car mechanics do not. Question: How many Swedes does it take to change a tyre? I don't know either, but it took them six days to do so, which is absurd. No matter, I got to experience another of their superior transport systems - the bus. The one downside is it requires a jojo card to purchase tickets (think Oyster card), no krona allowed.
Another shock to my system was how good looking everyone is, not to mention how fit and in-shape. There was a seemingly complete absence of obesity, which I'd later learn is due to everyone cycling everywhere. Oh, and the guys all tower over me; I'm over 6 foot myself, but my neck was constantly craning upwards.
Observing, the place itself it was as beautiful as the people. The week of sunshine quashed my misguided opinion of year-round tundra. A preference of cycling to driving kept it quiet and clean and the houses were rustic yet stylish. It came as no surprise when I was informed that Freddy Ljunberg and Leo Tolstoy's ancestry had houses there.
I was eager to experience my first night out; although buying alcohol could only be done in specialist stores, and under 21s could only buy lower percentile beers - a wise approach in retrospect. Upon reaching Strandbaden, the local night club, my British bravado had caused me to drink far too much beforehand and I barely made it through the doors. The cyclists seemed to make it alright though, I’ve never seen so many inebriated people operating bikes in a small area; clearly there is no protocol for drink riding.
However, I was sensible in latter visits and the club had a unique, classy yet liberal vibe. It attracted local DJ's and world renowned names of the Swedish progressive house movement alike; including excellent performances from Adrian Lux and Albin Myers. The experience was euphoric and unparalleled - with a distinct lack of substance abuse that accompanies this music scene back home.
Entry to the club was the equivalent to similar nights in Blighty (£12-20), although alcohol wasn't cheap - with pints costing around £5. Later I learnt to my surprise when counting the change from two shots of Sambuca that it amounted to roughly £19. The food wasn't particularly cost effective either, but with numerous pleasant cafes and bistros, the experience is worth it to sit in tranquillity and enjoy the passing views.
Another recommendation is to avoid opening conversations with "Hey", as Hej is hello in Swedish and you will be forced to nod politely as you are bombarded with words you've never heard before. Although, upon discovering you are English, the females will take a particular interest and you will be asked to repeat "banana" amongst other phrases.
After heavy nights of consuming, the best way to relax was to head down to the quiet beach, swim and enjoy the sun. There was also football pitches nearby for the more sporty individuals, which was the best way to sweat out the previous nights toxins. However, the misguided shots from our kick about unfortunately aggravated the travellers there for the horse show week, so work on your aim a little beforehand.
With that in mind, I insisted on seeing what the fuss was about and we attending a show jumping event. Not my particular cup of tea, but a good local turnout provided an entertaining spectacle.
For those who are after a bit more than just kicking back and enjoying the great scenery and activities I mentioned, Malmo is just 40 minutes away. There you can visit the immense St. Peter's Church, the Kallbadhuset sauna and swimming pool, the famous Lilla Torg outdoor cafe and restaurant area; or for the more adventurous the Stapelbaddsparken (Skate Park).
After a week, I was incredibly reluctant to go home, although my budget was dwindling; the only down side in what was an incredible holiday. With that said, you definitely pay for what you get. Plus I could go home knowing that the legend about the beauty of Swedish women isn't just a myth.
*This article was written for the style of Nowhere Mag