You can paint your countryside home in Sweden any color you want as long as it is barnyard red with white window and door sills. If they feel extremely rebellious (like the teens above) they paint the house yellow and the barn is the traditional red. Our day began on a dirt road winding through the forest past cute little country casas with new Volvos, Saabs and BMW's parked in the driveway. Seemed incongruous to see this fancy machinery in front of places where they raise cows for a living. The morning route was intended to take us past a string of lakes, but somehow we missed a turn and the lakes.
Our next segment sent us charging up-and-down hummocky topography through forests, past red little houses and by little lakes. (beginning to see the pattern?) After 45k I'd grown tired of the very little steep routes (my shoulder aching from exertion) while Andy was quite happy with them. We agreed to split up for 40K until Tingsryd. Andy's path (he reported) sent him charging up-and-down hummocky topography. While mine sent me over rolling hills through forests, past little villages and lakes. I'd thought that I'd be on a relatively busy road, but the information signs revealed parallel routes through the forests and parks on a gravel biking trail.
It was only the last few kilometers that forced me onto a busy road. The towns I passed looked like pictures from postcards with their structures in the traditional colors resting by little lakes and streams. I made it to Tingsryd before Andy and went shopping for lunch, which we ate together in the churchyard. We had a revelation at lunch and decided that we'd meet Olivier a week earlier than planned in Helsinki. We set out to find a phone to talk to Olivier. We'd decided that we'd take a train this night to Stockholm and be in Finland the next day riding.
After calling we made our way to Lessebo (whose name we joked about endelessly) to catch the train. We arrived at the station to find that the next one arrived in two hours. At the station there was a troop of scouts sleeping on the platform. We tiptoed over them and made our way to town to have a coffee, snack and shop for a train meal. For our snack we stopped at a waffle shack in the city park. Appropriately we ate waffles with strawberry jam and whipped cream. Our server at the shack was fascinated by our tour and bikes and mused about being able to take such a trip himself.
His questions \"how can you afford this\" reminded us of being in the States. We were both beginning to find Sweden a little boring. We were happy that we'd be on a train to Stockholm this night and be in Finland (to which we are both virgins) the next day. After collecting some bread, crackers, two types of fish products, dessert and some water at the market we went back to the train station. There the scouts were still sleeping and the train was yet to arrive. We waited on the platform and jumped up and readied to board as the coach arrived.
It was a sleek new train without any baggage cars and the conductor unceremoniously denied us entry and the train pushed on without us. I was furious. My shoulder ached and I didn't know what to do. Andy wanted to push to the next town, but I was not feeling fit to do so. I was so enraged that I found the energy to pedal onward over more rolling hills through the forest. Off in the distance about halfway to Kosta Andy yelled \"moooooossseeee, stop\". We pulled out the binoculars and watched him graze in the distance looking up at us when we yelled at him to come closer so we could photograph him.
He ignored us and continued his evening meal.