View from the hotel restaurant during our breakfast. Sunlight on a distant east-facing mountain but nowhere near us yet; icicles dripping nevertheless.

This afternoon Ingrid and I flew up to Hemavan for a three-day skiing trip.

Well, flying was the plan. But our flight stopped in Vilhelmina. We were informed that it was too windy to land in Hemavan and put on a bus, for a three-hour ride up to Hemavan. (I wonder how the bus driver kept awake: the drive was incredibly monotonous.) Instead of reaching our hotel just after at 9 in the evening, we got there at midnight. Dumped our things in a corner and went straight to bed.

From one extreme to the other.

First, Pico do Arieiro, Madeira’s 2nd highest peak. The peak was completely enveloped by a cloud, and therefore so were we. Wet, and no view whatsoever. But the drive there and back was beautiful.

Then, Madeira’s only sand beach, with sand imported from Morocco. Swimming, splashing, and sand castles.

Ingrid was disappointed by the lack of waves. The beach (like all the others at Madeira I believe) was enclosed by breakwaters because otherwise the waves would probably be too hazardous, so we could see them out there but almost nothing reached us.

We rented a car and went for a drive around the island. Incredible views that my photography really cannot do justice. Near-vertical cliffs with waterfalls, winding roads, picturesque white houses perched in improbable spots, lush subtropical forest, vast seaside views, etc etc.

Mountains, greenery and water is an unbeatable combination. And then maybe a touch of fog or dramatic clouds for added atmosphere. All the most beautiful places I can remember combine these. (Past favourites include Cornwall and Scotland.)

We went on a forest walk today. Ingrid climbed a huge tree.

Last week was Easter break at school. We all took the week off and had a mini-vacation at a farm. I had been longing for greenery and nature, and we also wanted the kids to see farm animals up close.

I grew up in the city but we spent all our summers at my grandmother’s cottage. It was very much a city-dweller’s summer cottage rather than a farm. But one of the neighbours had hens, and there was a sheep pasture nearby, so I got somewhat acquainted with some animals at least.

The farm we visited now, Kullagården, was a proper working farm. Small-scale, not one of those giant places of industrial-scale food production, but still a working farm rather than a hobby. Mostly they grow organic crops (wheat, oats, spelt and beans) but crop farming is pretty boring to look at, especially in April when nothing has been planted yet… But they also had a whole bunch of cows, both for meat and for the manure they produce. There were also horses and ponies, hens, rabbits and goats.

I liked the cows. They turned out to be much more inquisitive and nosy than I had expected. And they were beautifully hairy. The kids found them noisy and stinky and boring, and weren’t even interested in the week-old calves. Too large I guess.

Ingrid enjoyed feeding the hens. Adrian preferred to keep a fence between them and himself. I learned that hens find cheese a treat and prefer it to breadcrumbs. (I guess nobody would normally feed cheese to their chickens – these were leftover scraps from the bed & breakfast end of the farm.)

After some initial shyness, the rabbits were also pleased to be fed. Even Adrian came into the rabbit coop and hand-fed them dandelion leaves.

But the kids’ absolute favourite was the Totte the Shetland pony. They went out riding (on horseback or in a cart) every morning.

When the pony tired, they pulled the cart themselves.

We also took a walk along a nearby creek (Stjärnorpsravinen).

It was a very varied walk with lots to do: there was mud to splash in, fallen trees to climb over and under, bridges to cross, sticks to throw in the water…

On Monday and Tuesday we went on a bicycle ride.

I’d been making vague plans for a longer bike outing since the beginning of summer – Ingrid not being much of a walker, and somewhat too young for climbing mountains, biking seemed like a good way to get us all outdoors. Initially I had thought of maybe being away three or four days, but since the weather forecasts have been promising rain and yet changing all the time, and Ingrid hasn’t been in the best of moods lately, we cut it to just two days, with one night of camping. (We wanted to be as sure as possible that rain wouldn’t ruin Ingrid’s first camping experience, so that we can convince her to do it again next year.)

To keep it simple, we went for a local ride: a combination of Sverigeleden and Mälardalsleden, two marked and mapped bicycle routes. From our home in Spånga we headed east, via Kista towards Edsviken, where we hit the Sverigeleden. Then we followed that route north, past Sollentuna and Upplands Väsby, up to Märsta. After dining in Märsta we made camp at the beach at Steningebadet (with a view of Steninge castle across the water). On day two we cycled to Sigtuna, had a bit of a walk around the town centre, and continued to Bålsta. From there we took the train back home in the afternoon. In total I think we covered about 45 km on day one and perhaps 35 on day two. Ingrid sat on a child seat behind me, and Eric got the trailer with all the food, clothes and camping gear.

The weather was just about perfect for cycling. On Monday it was about 20°C and overcast but dry all day. On Tuesday there was a bit of sun, which made for a sweatier ride, but still not too hot. There was some wind to cool us off but not so much that it would be a hindrance.

I think Ingrid found the camping experience exciting: outdoor meals, sleeping in a tent, cooking porridge on the portable stove, washing up in the lake…

Well, the actual sleeping in a tent part was better in theory than in practice. At about 11 o’clock, prime sleeping time, we were interrupted by some yobs joyriding and skidding a van back and forth across the beach. It made an awful lot of noise and the headlights came close enough to make me worry they’d hit the tent. Fortunately they stopped when Eric went out and gave them the evil eye. Then a few hours later the early morning light started bothering Ingrid, and all her tossing and turning kept waking me. (And, predictably, sleeping on the ground is not at all comfortable when you’re 7 months pregnant.) We were all pretty tired in the morning.

The bike ride itself was, I think, rather boring for Ingrid. Sitting still, doing nothing… There was a fair amount of complaining about “I wish it was evening already” and “Are we almost there yet”. On Monday, in the more inhabited areas, we could at least stop at a few playgrounds on the way. On Tuesday it was mostly countryside.

Of course, the countryside had wild raspberries, and fields of wheat and oats (“flour for bread and cakes, and oats for your morning cereal”), and grazing horses, sheep and cows. Horses aren’t uncommon around the outskirts of Stockholm but there aren’t many who keep cows and sheep here. “Normally it is horses who are in pasture” Ingrid told me, somewhat surprised.

Next year I think we will try something a bit more ambitious – Åland perhaps, or Gotland. Baby 2 should be the perfect age: young enough to not be bored by the bike ride, old enough to not be too fragile.

Snacking outside Skånela church

This whole vacation felt like an experiment. We hadn’t been on any particularly adventurous trips with Ingrid – only visiting friends and relatives, and that’s quite different from a week of hiking. We weren’t exactly nervous, but quite unsure about how it would work.

It worked out perfectly all right. Ingrid was OK with sleeping in a strange house and a strange bed. She was OK with being carried on someone’s back most of the day, and spending anything from 1 to 3 hours in a car every day. She was OK with eating strange food at somewhat unpredictable times. She was even OK with two 4-hour flights.

I suspect that she was quite bored much of the time, because she slept more than usual. Or it may just have been due to all the new impressions. But she accepted the boredom quite well.

The only slight complication was that she wouldn’t drink enough water (and did not produce enough wet nappies). Of course breast milk was as popular as ever, but I don’t think the amount she gets nowadays is anywhere near enough to keep her hydrated. We resorted to giving her diluted peach juice instead of water, and that went down very well.

Speaking of nappies, that tends to be our main logistical concern when travelling. Cloth nappies are OK if we’re going somewhere for a day or two, but for a longer trip it has to be disposables because we usually don’t have anywhere to wash and dry the nappies. If we buy them at home then they take up a lot of space in our luggage, especially because it’s hard to know exactly how many we’ll need. If we buy at the destination then we usually get lots left over (they’re usually sold in packs of 60 or more) and then either have to give them away to someone, or take them home with us, which raises the issue of luggage space again. I wish nappies were sold loose, by the pound.

All in all a great success. It was certainly helpful that we were lucky with the weather, and travelled with a very helpful company. And I think we hit the sweet spot in her age: old enough to not be too “fragile” and sensitive to changes, young enough to accept days of boredom. We’ll see how the next vacation goes.

We had quite specific requirements for our vacation, mostly because of Ingrid. This was our first walking holiday with her, and we didn’t know how she would react. So we didn’t want to commit in advance to walking a certain amount each day, or following someone else’s pace. We certainly wanted self-guided walking rather than groups, and no full-day hotel-to-hotel walks. At the same time we wanted the whole thing to be as easy and convenient as possible. I didn’t want to have to think and plan too much, so putting together our own itinerary armed with just maps and books (which is what we’d normally) was not ideal either.

It turned out that there is a company offering holidays of exactly that kind. Upland Escapes, a small travel operator, offers flexible walking holidays in several locations in Europe. (Do the Canary Islands count as Europe?) Their packages include accommodation, a hire car, and a set of maps and instructions for local walks. The walks range in length from one hour to a full day (8 hours or so). Just what we wanted!

Near Roque Faneque, taking in the view and Ed’s biscuits

We were very happy with Upland Escapes, and would absolutely recommend them if you’re looking for a walking holiday. I really only have good things to say about them – there wasn’t a single case where we thought they could have done better.

Normally all guests are cared for by their local manager, who also doubles (triples) as walking guide, translator, and cook. But because we happened to be their only guests in Gran Canaria at the moment, and because Darren, the local manager, had hurt his leg and couldn’t guide any walks, we got the personal attention of Ed, one of the founders and managers of the company. Ed helped us choose our walks, and accompanied us for walks on some of the days. He also answered all our questions about the islands’ nature, culture and history. And how many guides surprise you with home-made biscuits when you reach the peak of your walk?

In addition, because Ed had been personally involved in scouting out the walks, he knew all of them well and could advise on details like which walks would have most shade, and propose a selection of walks that would be as varied as possible. There were walks through and between the neighbouring villages, walks on exposed ridges, on wooded slopes and in quiet valleys, and in (extinct) volcanic craters.

The walking handbook was not quite as good company as Ed, but the descriptions were all very clear and we had no trouble finding our way on our self-guided walks, either.

(To be continued.)