The very first room I checked was located 13 km south of central Gothenburg in the cozy neighbourhood of Hovås, a suburb comprising of houses seemingly scattered among forest, next to the sea.
After an evening fika (brief translation: having coffee/tea with an option for sweet and or savory snacks, talking included) they offered the room. I accepted.
They quickly adopted me as their own. Educating me in Swedish culture and traditions. Inviting me to their family Christmas celebrations – including gingerbread making night, family birthday dinners, and the night they cooked over a bonfire in May. I ate Swedish black pudding, liver paste from a tube, expensive mushrooms and most meals included their home brew of elderflower cordial and homemade bread. As an added bonus, it was always a joy coming home after months of travel with nothing in my fridge to be welcomed with a meal and a chat.
They were my family when I needed one, they gave me birthday card only weeks after moving in and a Christmas present to unwrap. We shared many great meals full of laughter, joy and in depth conversations, they told me their local secrets and shared the prospers of their fruit trees. They have been the kindest, most generous landlords I will probably ever have and I cant thank them enough for making my stay in Sweden a genuine one.