Soon enough, you learn to spot them from a distance, becoming almost frantic when none appear for two or three kilometers, and suddenly overjoyed as soon as they come back. These rectangular burgundy signs, marked with the inscription "Kattegattleden" (named after the Kattegat Strait that the trail follows) and an arrow, show cyclists the way. Missing one means having to wander through cornfields and fir forests. Following them allows you to boldly pedal along Sweden's west coast. Of the country's vast network of cycle paths, the Kattegattleden is the queen. It covers 390 kilometers, from Gothenburg in the north to Helsingborg in the south; a coastal route that follows the beaches and sometimes veers off into the fields and forests, and it's remarkably well-signposted.

The first day of our trip – just a warm-up – took us some 60 kilometers through the streets of Stockholm, the capital, a superb collection of islands and canals, and on to the royal castle of Drottningholm, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The serious business began further on, after a train journey to Gothenburg. Sweden's second most populous city is not its most beautiful, despite the charm of the old Haga district. No matter: We were in Gothenburg, but only to quickly leave it. What's more, the way out, via the harbor and under a very large bridge, was quite enticing.

At Jernholmen, we got our first glimpse of the sea, gray and calm like in a Jacques Brel song. The path passes close to an easily accessible beach. We decided to stop here, knowing there would be fewer opportunities thereafter, as the water often becomes separated from the track by marshes or long stretches of grass. Roses, purple lupins and buttercups grow along the verges. Sometimes, the path runs alongside the actual road for cars, but it is rare for the two to merge. Sharing with pedestrians is much more common. If you didn't leave the path, you might think that Swedes only did three things: run, walk with strollers and walk dogs.

Just before Kungsbacka, where the first leg ends, a few hills really made us struggle. As if to mock our efforts, without warning, the sky suddenly darkened, there were the claps of thunder and an almost tropical rain poured down on us. We looked for shelter, but we were surrounded by fields devoid of any buildings. Fortunately, it was not cold rain, and this sudden fury lasted only a (long) quarter of an hour. Kungsbacka is a small, peaceful town where old houses and a pretty church are clustered around a central square.

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