When we came to Råå (pronounced Raw) we were in high spirits as this is a town that captured Lars-Göran's imagination since it was featured in a popular boating magazine a couple of years ago. The description of the town itself and the old fishing harbour area, which was along a stream in the centre of town sounded really inviting, so it was pencilled in as a stop months ago.

I was also looking forward to also having Lambi looked at by a vet and to dropping in and seeing the older parts of Helsingborg. It had been somewhat of a wild ride towards the harbour as we were hit by a large rain squall with strong, gusty winds. Fortunately we had been keeping an eagle eye on the black, rapidly advancing clouds and had seen the approach of the front and only had the storm sail up at the time. We still managed to do 7 knots even with that tiny sail. It was with some relief that the harbour bollards came into view and we were able to slide in to the entrance of what was once one of Sweden's biggest fishing ports.




We sailed up the river, but there was no room in the old harbour where Lars-Göran really wanted to stay. As had been the case at Mölle and Höganäs, it was full of German and Danish boats. In fact, the very last spot was taken by a Danish yacht that Lars-Göran very kindly let in before us at the entrance - see, it doesn't pay to be a gentleman! So, we turned and went back to the entrance and tried at the adjacent boat club. Here one must go up and down the rows of boats and look for a spare space, then make sure that the marker on the pier is green (a red marker means it it is occupied). We found a narrow space and managed to squeeze our boat in next to a Danish boat.

The weather cleared and so we went to the tourist stand at the harbour to pay our fee and to ask about the vet. We had consulted the coast register which said there was a vet in the town. All I can say it that trying to get any information was like drawing teeth, not helped by the fact that they speak the ugliest dialect of Swedish that I have ever heard. I have trouble with the Danish-influenced Skåne accent spoken in this southwest region anyway but Helsingborgska was ghastly to listen to - the aural equivalent of scraping your nails down a blackboard.




We were given the vet's number and went back to the boat to ring and book a time. They were very pleasant and offered to see Lambi the following morning, which was great. We asked where they were located as we were from out of town. It turned out that the tourist bureau's assurance that "yes, we have a vet in town" really meant "in the town of Helsingborg". Okay, I thought, no drama. It's only a few kilometres away, so there must be a bus service and we went back to the harbour office to see about that. The girl there had no clue whether there was a bus or not. She said she knew nothing at all about the area and was just filling in for someone in the summer. She saw her tourist office role as handing out maps and taking the harbour fees. We asked the other person in the office if he could help and his response was "Don't look at me. I'm from Stockholm. I'm just keeping her company" Any internet café we could use to investigate ourselves? Nope. They suggested that we go to the local restaurant and ask for help.

So we did that and discovered what the local bus service was called and they loaned us a telephone directory to look up the number. Neither they nor us could find the number listed anywhere, though one of them said she remembered it contained a lot of sevens. Is this a bad dream?

Okay, plan three - go to the bus stop and see if there is a timetable and/or number for the bus company. But where is the nearest bus stop? No-one was really too sure, but they thought that if we walked approximately three kilometres up to the main road we might possibly find a stop along there somewhere. Right......

Not to worry - try plan four. Is there somewhere we could hire a car? Yes, certainly. In Helsingborg! Lars-Göran was ready to slit his wrists by this stage, so we went back to the boat and I suggested we forget it, cancel the consultation time and try to find a vet in a decent sized place like Malmö. Instead we set off to enjoy looking at this pretty town. We consoled ourselves with making snarky remarks about "getting a råå deal".




It had warmed up in the afternoon and poor Lambi was feeling the heat again, so we made numerous water and shade stops and ended up carrying her most of the way. While it is only a small town, it does have an interesting history. Råå was Danish until 1658 and the Danish style of buildings are dominant here. It has also been under attack from various countries in its history, with the worst being by the Russians in 1788, when the entire town was razed to the ground. So the pretty looking doll-house like homes and cobblestoned streets are from a much later date.




Because of it's location on the border to the rest of Europe, Råå's inhabitants were deeply involved in the lucrative smuggling trade that took place in the so called lurendrejartiden, in the mid 1800s. The most widely smuggled goods were spirits and tobacco (hmm... nothing has changed in 150 years I see!). The smugglers would load the goods onto rowing boats in Denmark and row them across the strait to Råå. The fastest of these boats had 16 rowers, and when customs agents finally captured it, they sawed it in two.

Apparently the whole community was actively involved in smuggling, with even the kids enlisted to spread false rumours about which night and exactly where on the coast the contraband goods would land. The women sold both fish and smuggled spirits in the main square in Helsingborg, with the alcohol being hidden in kegs secreted under their skirts. By the end of the nineteenth century the smuggling trade died out due to a combination of factors, including an increase in religious influences and the fact that fishing became more profitable.




Today, it is very quiet. The central part of town runs in a north south direction along the main street you see pictured below (Rååvägen). This picture was taken in the middle of the day and you can see that the street is lined with a variety of shops and restaurants. While there are cars parked here and there, it was really quiet and peaceful and you could happily linger and window shop without feeling like you could choke on exhaust fumes. I sometimes feel that way in parts of Stockholm as the footpaths are very narrow and you feel like the cars are about to drive right over you.




You are never far from the sea here and a short glimpse down the side streets gives you a water view. In some ways it reminded me of walking along some of the older beachside suburbs in Adelaide; places like Largs Bay or Semaphore, where you could glimpse the sea from a block back as you made your way up along the beautiful streets lined with Norfolk Island pine trees to the esplanade. The coastline around here is known for its fine, sandy beaches, so it is very popular in the summer.




Because of bad weather we stayed two days and hoped to go on to the island of Ven, just across the water. But bad weather is forecast again today and we know that nobody will leave their port in this, which poses a problem. It costs a great deal of money to stay in harbours and we are facing having to stay in many places until we reach an archipelago again. We really can't afford to spend more than a night in each, so we have to leave today. But where to? We already know that the smaller harbours south of here are full, as several other boat owners around us are also trying to find somewhere else to moor. We dare not risk going across to Ven in case the same is true there and then we face the trip back, with no guarantee of a space here when we return.

I can see that the strain is starting to get to all of us. It is no fun to be rubbing fenders day after day with strangers in a harbour and this constant juggle between what we can afford and what is available (or more often not available) is making us tense. I can also see that the boat is not sailing as well as usual, which means the barnacles are getting worse and this will mean slower sailing and longer days on the water.

This is not how we like to sail. We are used to just sailing in a particular direction, then turning in to the nearest place when we are ready. Apparently this is not possible in Skåne. One must plan the week with military precision. You have to have a decided goal, then head there as early as you can and jostle and push for a space. It has taken all of the fun out of the trip and we have decided that Skåne is a place we shall avoid in the future. We have friends that we want to see at Malmö, but after that we plan to sail away as fast as we can back to the peace and beauty of Sweden's east coast.

It's decided. Malmö here we come.