Swedens

Paddling through the inky blue water in Stockholm’s outer archipelago, all I can see is scattered islands and birds. Some of the islands are mere skerries – rocky outcrops and reefs so small they can host but a single cormorant drying its outstretched wings – while others, such as our target Bullerön, can be a mile or more in length, with historic fishing huts, summer cottages and wooden jetties sitting among their smoothly weathered rocks and windswept forests.

I’m on a two-day sea kayaking tour of Nämdöskärgården, a newly established marine national park, which is a vast 25,000 hectares (62,000 acres) of protected, mostly blue space – it is 97% covered by water – beginning on the outer reaches of the archipelago and stretching well into the Baltic Sea.

It is Sweden’s second marine national park, alongside Kosterhavet on the west coast, and its creation was approved by Swedish parliament in June this year, a summer in which the country also banned bottom trawling – the destructive fishing practice that Sir David Attenborough has likened to “bulldozing a rainforest” – from its marine national parks and nature reserves by July 2026. It’s the first European country to do so (the UK appears to have rejected whole-site bans in more marine protected areas, despite its earlier pledge to extend these – much to the dismay of conservationists).

One of the challenges in getting people to care about ocean conservation is that it’s hard to engage with what we can’t see or experience directly, and the idea behind Nämdöskärgården is not just to preserve the area’s unique ecological diversity, but also to make it accessible to visitors in a low-impact way. Sea kayaking – a popular pastime for Swedes throughout the archipelago – is the perfect way to do that.

My guide Johan Montelius, from Stockholm Adventures, and I get dropped off by taxi boat on Jungfruskär, which, like many isles in the outer archipelago, is uninhabited. We haul our narrow yellow sea kayaks up on to rocks splattered with grey, green and bright orange lichen, and after a quick safety briefing, Johan shows me our route to Idöborg, an island just outside the marine national park, where we’ll spend the night. It’s a journey of around 5 miles, but he assures me the wind will help push us along in parts and we’ll make plenty of stops along the way.

We set off, and after a tricky first 50 metres of paddling into the wind, find ourselves nicely sheltered between two long islands. We settle into an easy, slow rhythm – perfect for tuning into the surrounding natural wonder. There is plenty of birdlife, mostly cormorants, gulls, herons and geese, but we also spot at least five different white-tailed eagles over the two-day trip, as well as a pine marten and a seal. The thing that excites me most, though, is the seaweed, which comes in a host of shades, even the russet colour of autumn leaves. It’s a sign of healthy waters, with the seaweed providing a great nursery for young fish as well as a vital carbon sink – something that absorbs more carbon from the atmosphere than it releases.

We paddle over wonderful seagrass meadows, which glisten when the sun breaks through the clouds, and extensive belts of bladder wrack, or blåstång, a dark green seaweed with air pockets. Because the water is so clear, I can see it is also home to lots of periwinkles and other shellfish.

We see no other boats or kayaks, partly because it’s a slightly wet and windy day in September – sunny days in July and August are a lot busier, Johan says – but also because with kayaks we can navigate narrow passages between islands that sail boats and other watercraft can’t. At times, we paddle through fields of high reeds, our route no more than the width of a footpath.

We stop for lunch on another deserted island, feasting on a delicious fish stew made by Johan the night before. Mindful of leaving no trace in an archipelago where I’ve not seen a speck of single-use plastic all day, we check the spot for litter meticulously before we head off.

The islands are beautiful, but they all look the same to me, so I’ve no idea how Johan is navigating so effectively – he only uses the GPS on his phone once, to check our final crossing to Idöborg as the wind picks up. We stash our kayaks in a sheltered sandy bay on the island and check into our cosy forest cabins, which have full A-frame views of the increasingly agitated ocean. Stockholm Adventures offers wild camping when the weather allows, but tonight I’m glad of a roof over my head.

Idöborg is a private island with dense forest, a range of cabin options, and a restaurant that serves tasty, seasonal local food – the jerusalem artichoke soup with seagrass pesto is incredible. It also has a sauna facing the water, with a wooden jetty that invites dipping in the soft, brackish water in between the waves of heat.

When we enjoy it at dusk, the sea still has plenty of energy, but the next morning things are calmer. Our 2.5-mile paddle out to Bullerön, the main island of the Bullerö archipelago, and one of the last islands before the open sea, passes in an easy, meditative haze.

The sun comes out, and we visit the former cottage and studio of the influential Swedish nature painter Bruno Liljefors, which now serves as an information centre for Nämdöskärgården, and walk the island’s stunning circuitous footpath. From the highest point, looking out east to the expanse of the Baltic Sea, it feels good to know this stretch of glistening ocean and all that lies beneath it will be protected.

Over breakfast on Idöborg, I chat to Ylva Tenselius, a Stockholm resident and consultant here on a work team-building trip. When she was growing up, her grandfather used to go out and catch cod all the time. “We would groan and say, ‘No more cod,’ when it was served at the dinner table,” she says, adding that she used to catch perch easily herself with a line, but now both are far less common. She welcomes the new marine park and its conservation goals. “We’ve seen the changes and now it’s time to protect it.”

When I get home to the UK, I call Charles Clover, co-founder of Blue Marine Foundation, an ocean conservation charity, which is campaigning for bottom trawling to be banned from all UK marine protected areas, to ask what he thinks about Nämdöskärgården. “Anything that protects breeding grounds for fish is a positive step,” he says. “The sea is in such a bad state, particularly the Baltic Sea, so I think these protected areas will bring enormous benefits. They will help repair the sea and help nature help itself.”

And he believes low-impact tourism, such as sea kayaking and hiking, can help with that process. “It creates a different use of nature, which is to enjoy it rather than to exploit, and that can only be a good thing.” I couldn’t agree more.

This trip was provided by Visit Sweden. A two-day kayak tour of the Stockholm archipelago with Stockholm Adventures costs 10,490 kronor (£830) for a group of up to four; other itineraries available. Idöborg forest cabins sleep two, from 2,000 kronor (around £160) a night.

Sam Haddad writes the newsletter Climate & Board Sports

If you came to stay on the tiny island of Styrsö (steer-shuh) in the Gothenburg archipelago in the late 19th or early 20th century, there was a good chance it was because you had tuberculosis. The island had already begun to appeal to city folk who came here for fresh air, sea baths and peace, but the sanatoriums set up by the renowned Dr Peter Silfverskiöld gained such a positive reputation that the isle became known as a health resort. Those glory days have long since faded but Kusthotellet, a new hotel dedicated to wellbeing, aims to tap back into the restorative vibe.

The conditions that first drew health-seekers to the island still pertain. It’s tucked away and protected from winds, but the lack of high ground nearby means the sun shines on its southern coast from dawn to dusk, and there’s no pollution. “This island is such a peaceful place – you can really relax and recharge your batteries,” Malin Lilton, manager of Kusthotellet, told my companion and me. “As soon as you get on the ferry your pulse rate goes down and you start breathing in the good air.”

In the spirit of slowing down, we had come by train from the UK with Interrail passes, stopping for the night in Hamburg. Arriving in the late afternoon in Gothenburg, we wandered the old town before heading to Styrsö via tram to Saltholmen harbour and speedy catamaran ferry. City centre to island hotel in just under an hour.

Right on the coast with views across to neighbouring Donsö island, the 40-room, 10-suite hotel is a sleek creation, decorated in the cool, calming colours beloved by Scandinavians, with a light-filled restaurant, wellness area and outdoor heated pool. Our room, one of the 20 with sea views – is a spacious, uncluttered affair with a balcony.

The hotel is designed with sustainability in mind – there are ground-source heat pumps and water-based underfloor heating – and it’s aiming for Green Key sustainability status. And everything has been kept as local as possible, from the staffing and food ingredients to the seaweed and salt used in the spa.

That spa – named Havskuren (“The Sea Cure”) – is split into two areas. The Salt Source offers foot baths, facial treatments and an area for relaxing. The Heat Source contains a sauna, steam bath and plunge pool. There’s also a small gym. “We’re planning to offer massages soon as well,” Malin said.

Malin also explained that cycling, walking, sea swimming and eating are also important elements in guests’ wellbeing, and presented us with two shiny new hire bikes. The 0.6 square mile (1.5 sq km) island is virtually car-free and as we explored over three days, the only vehicles we met on the smooth narrow roads were bicycles, golf carts and three-wheeled mopeds that resembled motorised wheelbarrows.

One morning, having stocked up at the island Co-op, we pedalled off for a picnic lunch on Lilla Lyngnskär, a tiny islet accessible from Styrsö by footbridge. We still somehow had room for fika – coffees with a cinnamon bun and a mighty chokladbollar (Swedish chocolate ball) – at Café Öbergska, formerly an inn owned by pickled herring barons.

Our walks on the island’s wooded southern side included a memorable crepuscular hike on a footpath to a bronze age cairn at Stora Rös, the island’s highest point with a 360-degree vista across the southern Gothenburg archipelago. We shared the path down in the dark with scores of frogs, some no larger than our fingernails. Doubtless many would find their way into the stomachs of the herons we had seen hunting during the day.

Back at the hotel, we dined in the high-ceilinged restaurant with views over the water. The menu features Nordic-influenced seafood dishes such as scallops, cured halibut, plaice and hake, as well as wholesome vegan options using locally farmed vegetables. We tucked into beetroot, chanterelle and oyster mushroom starters followed by charred cabbage and toasted hazelnuts over a mouthwateringly creamy potato base – all delicious.

One evening, after dinner we tried out the spa. Malin handed us a nose-pleasing set of creams and lotions she had made herself, and we luxuriated in the foot-baths, sauna and steam room, suffered in a freezing plunge pool, and relaxed again in the heated outdoor pool with a view across the ocean to the sparkling lights of Donsö.

A bridge has joined Styrsö with this neighbour for just over 50 years, so the next day we cycled over it for an al fresco lunch at the harbourside Popsicle cafe, owned by Donsö-born sisters Kristin and Klara. Their mixture of ingredients grown by friends, tasty bread and cakes made by Klara’s mother-in-law and weekly live music has proved a hit. We returned to the harbour for a delicious dinner featuring jerusalem artichokes, butternut squash and a cauliflower sauce at Isbolaget, a high-ceilinged building that was once an ice store for fishing boats.

Our final slow day was dedicated to a seaweed safari (£118pp) with potter-turned-naturalist Karolina Martinson. We began with a historical cycle tour of the northern part of the island, home to most of Styrsö’s 1,600-strong population. Karolina led us leisurely up and down miniature hills sprinkled with well-kept detached wooden houses, no two alike.

Arriving at Karolina’s chosen beach, we slipped into wetsuits and clambered over rocks into the pleasingly clear and even warm-ish seawater. So followed our introduction to finger kelp, sugar kelp, fork weed, dulse, mermaid’s necklace and good old bladderwrack – all of them good for us or the planet or both. We snorkelled around, watching as Karolina showed us how she picks the plants sustainably.

Our exploration done, we helped to prepare a homemade feast on the beach – traditional bread thins cooked on a stove, tofu wrapped in crispy mermaid’s necklace, light-as-air biscuits made with foraged meadowsweet, sweet bites of sugar kelp and much more besides. When we said our goodbyes, many hours later, we felt like old friends.

All too soon we found ourselves at the dockside waiting for the ferry back to the reality of the outside world. After a few minutes, a woman joined us – bare-footed and apparently clad in nothing but a Kusthotellet spa robe. For all our newfound relaxed state, we clearly still had a lot to learn from the Swedes about how to be laidback.

The trip was supported by the West Sweden tourist board and Kusthotellet Styrsö (double rooms from about £130). Rail tickets were supplied by Interrail; a Global Pass (four days of travel in a month) costs £187 (ages 12-27), £249 (ages 28-59), £224 (60+).