Day Forty Nine Tuesday 6th September

A chilly night, although snug enough in the camper,but we woke to glorious sunshine. In fact sitting outside I thought I might need sunscreen for the first time! After spending the morning just soaking up the beauty and peacefulness of the place, we ventured out in the camper to do some gentle exploring. First southwards on along the rough road to Degersand. The lovely beach was deserted, and here there is a campsite which runs right up to the beach. All the beachside pitches were empty. We keep having our breath taken away by the views , all brilliant blue water and green wooded shores. It is impossible to describe the quality of the light. Being here out of season has its disadvantages, but the stillness and emptiness makes up for them. It would all be quite different in season, but still lovely I'm sure. We then went in search of a supermarket and bank/hole-in-the-wall. After several red herrings we went back to the ferry terminal to see if they could help. The nearest is 10 miles away - fourteen or so from the campsite! The lady there was very helpful, and searched high and low, eventually finding us a lovely little booklet about Eckero in English. We went to have a look at the huge, cream coloured and impressive Old Mail and Customs house - the outside only of course! During the season it houses exhibitions, a cafe and craft stalls. It was built in 1828, as the Russian border station with Sweden and, as I read somewhere, would not look out of place in St Petersburg. It is very strange to see such a building here, but it was built not only for administrative purposes, but to show off Russian wealth and power of the time. The building has remained intact through all the wars and other crises since. Having located the Supermarket , and failed by 2 minutes to get to the bank before it closed (no matter, there's always tomorrow,) we drove back to the campsite enjoying the country lanes, farmland, and tiny hamlets of scattered houses, and stopping off at Eckero church. Much of the church is over 700 years old, although you wouldn't think so. It is stone, with a wooden roof, very different from the white-painted Swedish churches, but as in Sweden, everything is so well looked after that age doesn't show. We had to satisfy ourselves with a walk round the graveyard, and peering through the windows for glimpses of the interior. Geoff has just discovered that he picked up some sort of yoghurt drink instead of milk this afternoon. Tricky when everything is in yet another new language. Good job we have powdered milk with us for emergencies.