As a shy 18 year old living in a small Northamptonshire village, who's only experience of 'Abroad' was a weekly glimpse of foreign climes in the company of Cliff Michelmore and a swoon of Hollywood films full of glamorous people, leading fascinating lives in faraway places; I was keen to check-in to this exotic thing called travel and in the summer of '82 my chance to step out into the big beyond fell at my feet in the form of an invitation to stay with a family in Sweden.
Frenzied packing ensued, fond farewells and an excited but extremely nervous teenage arrived in Stockholm.
Meet Henrik (dad - businessman, inclined to road rage), Christina (mum - English teacher who opened my eyes to Apartheid), Martin (big brother - soon to leave for his National Service), Anna (enthusiastic 16 year old who was my 'exchange') and Rufino (scruffy black terrier with a penchant for hedgehogs).
I was ready to be romanced and quite prepared to fall in love with everything and everyone - this was far, far away from my provincial life - I had escaped onto a film set with me as the leading lady!
My opening scene was spent discovering Stockholm - the stunning 13th century Gamla Stan (Old Town), the gargantuan Royal Palace, the 18th century Drottingholm Court Theatre and the Grona Lund amusement park.
While I would like to say that I fully appreciated the diverse culture, sublime architecture and watery beauty of the setting: it was my first experience of a fun park which gave me the biggest buzz!
Without a copy of the script, nothing prepared me for the second week however, spent at the family's summerhouse on Faro.
Taking a car ferry to Visby on Gotland, a drive North to Farosund and another ferry to Faro, one could see why this small 18km long Baltic island is called the Traveller's Island.
Driving off the car ferry we were stopped by the military police as Faro at that time had a strategic military installation and was strictly off-limits to foreigners. I was rather nervous when my 'special papers' were presented to the officer, who on quickly scanning them, waved us through.
We drove through the flat, scrubby landscape with huge Norfolkesque skies to arrive at their white wooden summerhouse surrounded by a beautiful wildflower meadow with a sprinkling of fir trees.
The weather was hot and we walked through flower-flexed pastures, picking huge mushrooms, rode bikes through cool forests and explored the rocky beaches to the West with their ancient Ice Age Monoliths known as Rauks patrolled by the military police and the sandy beaches favoured by nudists to the East of the island.
I was enchanted by this idyll and it seemed fitting that Ingmar Bergman also had a house on the island where I loved every minute of the beauty, mystery and allure - a heady mix for an impressionable teenager!
I was a real traveller and my adventure had just begun!
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