Firstly, let's get the stereotypes out of the way. Not everyone is blond; they don't all drive Volvos; and life there is not that expensive. And shock horror - I did not so much as hear a note of Abba in my week in the country.

Sweden is not an obvious holiday destination for the British. Our image of it is one of snowbound log cabins, £5-a-pint bar prices and any food you like, as long as it's smoked fish.

But you may be surprised to know that you can picnic on the beach in March (I did), pay prices that are roughly equivalent to those here for most things, and yes, there are alternatives to fish.

One of the most attractive things about Sweden, particularly to someone who lives in a cramped terraced house in York and battles daily with our beloved city traffic, is the wide-open space. There are nine million people in a country three times the size of Britain. That means your average Swede has infinitely more land to inhabit, much more space on the road, and your closest neighbours are so far away as to be specks on the horizon.

The climate in the south of the country is more or less the same as we have here, although this spring they seem to have hijacked all our good weather (my girlfriend's parents, who live near Malmo, on the south coast, have been reporting temperatures in the 80s on and off for at least a couple of months now).

The coast is blessed with the sort of beaches you would not expect to find in Scandinavia. There are dunes and fine, white sand and a short walk along any beach will give you at least a hundred yards or so to yourself. And in the summer the otherwise icy Baltic Sea warms up nicely to allow even the most timid to have a paddle.

So there must be a downside to all this and well, there is. Of course this is not the type of holiday destination where the aim of the holiday is to drink, drink, drink, but then again it's nice to have a glass or two when you are in the mood. But the Swedes don't make it easy.

Like some throwback to 1980s Britain, strict licensing laws seem to be there to stop you doing what you want to do, when you want to do it. Supermarkets can only sell booze up to 3.4 per cent alcohol by volume, and while stronger stuff is available if you can find an off licence, these are not open all day and close at around 6pm, even on Friday and Saturday. And what's that? You want to buy alcohol on a Sunday? Sorry, it's not going to happen. And strangely, there are very few bars, except your universal "Irish pub".

With perhaps the exception of Stockholm, Sweden's cities are not geared towards tourists (which is by no means a bad thing). So if you are looking to have a range of guided tours, trips and entertainment laid at your feet like some package deal you may be disappointed.

But it seems to be the ideal country to tour at your leisure. Thousands of miles of unspoilt coastline, isolated and untouched lakes and pristine mountain ranges are there for the discovering. And you can be fairly sure you will be the only ones there.

And don't worry about the language difference. I tried, and failed, for a week or so before going to pick up some words and phrases off a native Swedish speaker. The three words I could remember came in useful as a token attempt at politeness, but the Swedes' grasp of the English language is second only to, well, ours.

The temptation is already with me to visit again and to drive north and keep going until I hit the Arctic Ocean. Or maybe I'll wait until retirement and save up for a house in the woods. Where else could you buy a five-bedroom house with a few acres and a babbling brook for around £30,000?

David Wiles travelled from York to Manchester Airport courtesy of Northern Spirit.