Following our noses with no known destination we head down a track. Debating whether it is really a road or just someone’s garden we continue, ready to reverse at any moment. We know the ocean is on our left. It is never far away on this stretch of coastline. The houses are cosy, their gardens colourful with the remains of summer colours still hanging on, waiting for the first frosts of the winter to take them. Painted wood in colourful shades makes the houses stand out against the green of the lush landscape and the dark brooding mountains behind.
At a fork we decide to go left again. With the track becoming more lumpy (thank goodness we are in a hire car!) we eventually come to the end of the road.
A small harbour, basking in autumnal morning sunlight is carved into the rock. Protection from every direction of weather the landscape can throw at this small corner of the planet is provided in this man-made harbour. It sits silent, waiting for the summer fishing visitors to return. The buoys and weights are hung over the supports, slowly rippling in the breeze. Rusting in the salt air as the seasons move forward. The ropes are twisted and worn, even the life buoy is tied, a tangle of ropes, secure as if it is determined to remain in place even in the wildest weather.
Tucked away from the ocean, buried deep into the hillside rocks is a shelter, turfed and forgotten in the winter months. It is hard to believe that this small jetty at Julshamna was once a thriving port with boathouses, breweries and fish processing.
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