It happened in contemplative Småland on Sweden's east coast. And to be honest, it's a double murder. Salmon and plaice lost their lives in an amateur bloodbath.
It all started quite harmless.
We were on the small island of Hasselö (the islands carry so all sonorous names: Mjödö, Krokö, Örskär, Hamnskär) in the archipelago not far from Västervik to visit Tomas Liew and should have actually gone with him to fish on the open sea; but the weather was miserable and even the fisherman did not want to leave.
Thomas Liew used to work for the Red Cross, always on site in the crisis areas. Since he was 65, is employed by the state and his salary is pension, he lives his dream in Sladö.
His wife came from this mini-island and after they had possibly actually seen the whole world, they returned.
Thomas learned the craft from his father-in-law and took over his fishing grounds. Today, he fishes more or less for self-consumption and takes curious travelers (for children - but not only - a huge highlight) with pleasure on his boat. Whereby the guests hand on. Thomas only takes over the narrative part and explains how to pull in nets, search for pots and take out fish.
he asked in our round, which could not go at sea. My hand, immediately above. I've done that before, watched anyway, no problem. The huge oil suit that I should cover myself, I felt as a complete exaggeration, after all, he confirmed to me it would be about palm-sized fish.
After I dumped a net with at least 15 kilos of fish out of the water into a bucket, there were not hundreds of small fish, but rather a handful of big ones. Eels, plaice and something that looked like salmon.
I got a wooden club in hand, put the salmon (about 50cm long, 4kg heavy) on the slaughter, apologized to the fish and did my best to hit the head with the first blow. (I did not hit with the first punch, I'll save you all further details.)
The second fish, a plaice, learns the death by the way by directly separating the head. My fellow travelers colleagues were shocked, Thomas was excited his dinner was prepared and I had the oil suit but not in vain attracted.
On the island of Idö we met the next city escapist. Back to the roots , seemed to me to be quite common on Småland's coast. The archipelago islands offer themselves for a Robinson Crusoe existence but also somehow, abandoned fishing villages, sparsely populated islets, which are sometimes even completely uninhabited.
Helene and her husband Lasse Nilsson have opened a restaurant café on such an island , set up a few small holiday homes, built an irresistible whirlpool on the shore and serve their guests with fresh, home-made delicacies, such as cardemummabullar.
I knew Kanelbullar, clearly from Ikea, but I did not know that the yeast snails with cardamom instead of cinnamon make even more addictive.