I’ve been googeling on Brandskär, the small little island outside Lysekil. I can’t find anything on the internet, but my theory is that from the main land the island looks like it is on fire when the sun goes down over it. Directly translated the name is Fire Island, but very little is growing there that can catch fire, so until any local comes with another story, we go for my theory. I’m not sure (but most likely) the small island has given it’s name to a boat brand that, in my eyes, design very beatiful boats (powered by Volvo Penta). Judge for yourselves.
Next follow up is the meaning of Käringön, directly translated to “Bitch Island”, but in reality it has another meaning. On the official home page of the island is the most likely history of the name explained. It comes from the Scottish word “Cairn”, which aparently means a pile of stones. These pile of stones where historically build by local sea farers and fishermen to find their way at sea (sometimes painted in white and called “Kummel” in Swedish). The correct translation of Käringön should then be “Cairn Island”. It sounds logic as fishermen back in time had connections with fishermen from the big islands in the west and the local dialect contains alot of expressions with Brittish (or Scottish, Graham) influences.
Final follow up is on the small puppie that we visited some weeks ago. The rational decision was not to get another dog at this point in time. I belive Lotta still hoped for that no one else would have mercy over the little fellow so we had to come and recue it. However, during our visit to Portugal he has got a new home and will live a happy life with another sight hound somewhere in Sweden.
I have to include a little funny story as well. Edwin, our dog, has stayed with my parents while we where in Portugal. They have a small summer house on the country side and as Edwin has very strong instincts to hunt after rabits, cats, deers, etc., they keep him in a long, thin rope when they leave him unattended outside. One day my father came home from one of his many biking events. Edwin was very happy to see him, so he ran around him a couple of laps and then decided to inform my mother that my father had arrived. Edwin is quite strong, so despite the fact that my father has an extra kilo or two, he managed to sweep my father off the ground. He fell on his thumb and got a crack in it (båtbenet). My father picked us up from the airport today with a plaster up to below the elbow. He missed the big cycling event of the year, to do Vasaloppet by bike (90k on dirt roads). He claims he was happy to miss it as he has not trained enough, but the only one I believe was happy was my mother that could have him at home an extra weekend!