A Swedish Cut And Colour.

RUNGSTED KYST.

We're on the road by 10am. It's 115 miles to the ferry, a little further than we thought. However, again the roads are excellent and we make good progress. Twenty miles in, Rosie suggests that we stock up on provisions at a town called Smalandsstenar. A walk around the town throws up a hairdresser who can fit Rosie in immediately. Paul wanders around town for an hour or so. Observe junior school practising their cycling proficiency. Or, rather, the girls do. The boys seem more interested in climbing the trees in the playground. Rosie reappears sporting a new hair style and we are back on the road.

We stop for diesel just before Halmstad. There is also water available at the station on the other side of the road. We can park alongside and fill up unobserved. Paul traps his arm in the door. Retribution for not buying fuel at this garage. It's a good job that we chose there because we immediately join the motorway and head south.

It becomes a repeat of Tallin, no sooner have we arrived at the port than we are on board and sailing the 20 minutes across the sea. We just have enough to spend our coins on a coffee before we are called back to the van. A Dane asks how we are travelling home. He used to sail from Esbjerg but this has stopped. We explain that we are using the Hook to Harwich route.

We pull into a car park to plan our night's stop. We look up and the ferry is already on the way back to Sweden.

We settle on Rungsted which is about 20 kilometres along the coast. It is a busy harbour with multiple shops and restaurants.

A walk around town before dinner. The centre is about a kilometre away. There are a couple of supermarkets, the normal service shops, a railway station with bus connections and, most importantly for us, an ATM.

I'm sure my friend Phil is standing in the European elections. He doesn't agree when I send him a copy of the following: