Desperately Seeking Sweden

It really helps to have a local on hand to show you around. And be your bodyguard. Especially in Borlänge, an industrial work-horse of a town and the biggest in Dalarna.

Had it not been for the lovely Anna-Maria, friend of a friend and voluntary tour guide for the weekend, I would have probably missed the opportunity to drink the pure spring water, said to be the best in Sweden, at Frostbrunnsdalen.

I might have also overlooked Ornässtugan, the house where former Swedish king Gustav Vasa escaped from the great Danes down a toilet in the early 1500s. And I definitely wouldn’t have seen the remnants of the world’s biggest ostrich egg at a local farm, which weighed in at 2589 grams.

Super-size egg-layer supreme

I probably would have made it the Jussi Björling museum to listen to the life and sounds of the internationally famed tenor and Borlänge’s most famous son. But I certainly wouldn’t have heard the story of the town’s most famous living resident – Skogshuggarn – who lived in his cellar after chopping down his house and using it for firewood.

Most importantly, I doubt I would have plucked up the courage to go alone to MidnattsTravet, the horse racing event which happened to be in Borlänge on my arrival. Horses are big in this county and the Dala Horse, once a simple carved and painted toy, has not only become a symbol of Dalarna, but Sweden too. So I felt obliged while in these parts not to eat horse sausage or an ostrich burger for that matter.

The races are an annual family outing with a fun fair, a flutter and a good few beers to boot. I had to watch my purse strings when I was on a winning roll. But I also had to watch my back from being whacked by kids with various inflatable items they won at the fair.

Now I’m not a gambling woman myself and chose my horses with careful analysis and strategy; on the basis of whether I liked their names or not. Coming from Classic Car Week in Rättvik I put my small change on Sandro Mustang in the 20.11.  Sure enough the stallion drove home smoothy in first place and I was already 179 crowns up for the evening.

In the 21.00, I opted for a horse named Hot Tub, because I enjoy a nice long soak and wanted to toast the youth hostel bathroom with the most enormous tub I’ve ever seen. But the filly ran out of steam at the final bend and my clean sweep came to an abrupt end. Still, with my 50 crown profit pocketed, I bought a burger which I fear was made neither from cow, horse or ostrich meat. Synthetic pig perhaps.

Away from the course, a danceband spectacular saw veteran group Sven Ingvars getting the audience swinging to ’Sommar i Sverige igen’ (Summer in Sweden again) as the umbrellas went up and the rain lashed down.

Me and Peter Larsson from Larz Kristerz: And yes the chest hair is real

Meanwhile, local musical heroes Larz Kristerz proved such a popular hit that fans stalked them off the stage and I followed suit in earnest, successfully scrambling through the crowd to get a picture with guitar-player Peter Larsson. I did, however, turn down the chance to have his signature scribbled on a bodily part.

Against all odds, I woke with a fairly clear head the next morning but soon realised I wasn’t alone. There was something big and squashy lying next to me. No, not Peter from Larz Kristerz but rather a large inflatable electric guitar I won at the fair.

I’ve become rather attached to it, quite literally, and have buckled it to my backpack as I venture onwards from Borlänge. My new travelling companion could prove to be a rather useful instrument in my forthcoming travels, I’ll bet. 

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