One might say that travelling a long distance across Europe to go on a specialist bear watching holiday in Sweden and then not to see any bears is particularly unlucky, but sometimes good things come out of bad, which is the true nature of this story.
The Eurasian Brown Bear is not a common creature in Sweden and is also largely nocturnal, so is not easy to see in the wild. Generally, you employ the skills of an experienced wildlife guide and camp-out in the middle of the night near the smelly carcass of decaying elk (moose) and hope a hungry bear might lope-in for a feed. Bears have an amazing sense of smell, but they are also very frightened of humans, so you have to avoid anything that has the scent of people, like deodorant or toothpaste.
No bears turned-up in ten days of hanging-out in the woods, but others in my group did get a good view of a Lynx; I also glimpsed this elusive, wild feline, but it could have been a ginger moggie for all I saw of the critter as it disappeared into the gloom of the forest.
It was my obvious disappointment, coupled with the gift to our guide Markus of a bottle of excellent Springbank whisky from my homeland in Scotland that allowed me the opportunity to visit Sweden again later that year, this time in winter. You can't see bears in the wintertime, as they are usually hibernating, but it's a great season for tracking wolves and to hear them howling in the wilderness. Markus invited me to come out wolf-watching over Christmas, allowing me to stay in his little cabin in the woods, next to a pristine and beautiful lake.
When I arrived in December, the Swedish countryside was a winter wonderland of snow covered pines and frozen lakes. I spent a few excellent evenings out with Markus searching and listening for wolves on snow-mobiles and dog-sleds, which was a first and amazing experience for me.
Markus had to return to his family for the Christmas holidays leaving me alone in the cabin, but looked after by his cousin Lilly, who lived in a house nearby with her friend Elsa. Both were fabulous-looking, young women in their late 20s, tall, fit and slender; Lilly a brunette with striking blue eyes and Elsa a classic Swedish blond with long, golden hair.
The girls invited me over to their place for home-cooked meals and copious amounts of Absolut Vodka, a strong enough vintage to fuel rockets. Both were amazingly fun company and they seemed to love my British humour, as I considered it my patriotic duty to keep them constantly in stitches of laughter and giggling. Swedish men might well be handsome, but maybe I had the edge on them in the personality stakes, as both Lilly and Elsa seemed to take a very strong shine to me.
Near to my cabin and on the very edge of the lake, Markus had built a little sauna house, with an outside hot-tub and a wooden pier that went-out onto the lake with a ladder at the end. The Scandanavians are a crazy bunch and the idea here is to lounge in the sauna or hot-tub in almost unbearable heat and then every now and again, run naked down the pier and jump into a hole you had dug in the ice of the frozen lake. Readers, yes I know, these folks are as mad as ferrets on Speed! I can now vouch however, that if you don't die immediately of a heart attack, then it's incredibly invigorating, apparently even more so if you beat yourself with birch twigs beforehand to further stimulate your circulation (err, no!).
