August 1, 2007
Today we went to Multen. We had been there for the first time back in the spring with our home Bible study group, which has been going to Sixtorp, a house near Multen, for many years – an annual houseparty. Then it was blowy and cold. But the children braved the waters of the lake while we marvelled at the scenery. Today we woke to blue skies and sunshine, and Maria said, “Let’s go to Sixtorp.” She got on the phone to Marianne and Anders, who agreed to meet us there around lunch time.
Multen is a lake in Kilsbergen, the range of hills that runs from south to north just west of Orebro. There are hundreds of lakes in the hills, a treasure trove of summer activities just waiting to be discovered. There is so much to do in Kilsbergen. A walking track called Bergslagsleden runs for hundreds of kilometres along the chain of hills, and passes beside the lake. About 20km south on the trail is Svartå Herrgård, the manor house turned hotel where Maria and I spent our first night of married life. 20 km in the other direction, northward, is another popular swimming lake called Leken, and the track that way passes by yet another mountain lake where we have swum in other summers – Lillsjön, “the little lake.”
But today was Multen, a little lake near the village of Mulhyttan in the Lekeberg district, south west from Örebro. Marianne and Anders and Daniel were already there when we arrived, but despite the sun it was unpleasantly windy. So blustery, in fact, that we quickly decided we would not stay long, but instead explore other parts of the area in search of some new “smultronställer” – special places. The kids still managed a quick dip, but they were all tired and grumpy, having all had sleepovers and consequently very little sleep last night. We all had lunch, and coffee, before packing up again and heading back to the cars, parked up the hill near the house, Sixtorp.
We drove further along the lake, toward Tryggeboda, a tiny hamlet in the forest at the end of one arm of Multen called Tryggeboviken. The dirt road ran through forest with intermittent clearings where we caught glimpses of the lake down to our left. Red wooden houses, once the homes of farmers and woodsmen but now rejuvenated as summer houses, dotted the landscape, several with magnificent outlooks over the dark, sparkling waters of the beautiful water below. Tryggeboda itself had a chapel and a green common with a maypole decked with the dried up leaves of the midsummer celebrations.
We turned the cars and headed back, taking a minor detour in search of another swimming place we had seen marked on the map, called Trumön. A sign nailed to a tree at the head of the trail where we parked the cars warned us that it was, in fact, a nudist beach, much to our disappointment, since we felt hesitant to wander further through the forest toward the lake shores when we knew we had no intention of swimming. We returned to the cars and drove back toward Mulhyttan, stopping on the way to peer through the windows of a little summer house on the edge of the forest which had a for sale sign outside. We drove down another dirt track toward another swimming spot, close to the little house, but by now the sky was getting greyer and the wind was rising, ruffling the waters of Multen. That spot would have to wait for another visit. The kids were tired. It was time to go home.