Biology student

My tent is located in a beautiful nature reserve. Unlike many other places, it is a 100% deciduous forest. The small leaves create a bright green canopy. It’s stunning to look at from my tent. Fifty meters away stands the small blue tent of a Dutch biology student. When I arrived yesterday, he was sitting in a chair reading. In my best Swedish, I said: “Hej.” He replied: “Hej.” I set up my tent, and he continued reading.

Cooking in the shelter

Because it was quite windy, I walked to the shelter an hour later to prepare my warm meal there. The biology student was already cooking. I said in English that I was joining him because of the wind. In Dutch, he replied: “Yeah, I had the same idea.”

Not another Dutch person

I wonder how he knows I’m Dutch. We barely exchanged a word. “I heard your app say that you reached your destination,” he says. Later, I laugh about this and ask him: “What did you think, oh no, another Dutch person?” He laughs but doesn’t comment further.

No unnecessary words

We have a conversation, just the way I like conversations. No small talk. No endless chatter or meandering on various topics, but straight to the point and getting into depth right away. Then everyone goes their own way again. When you’re done talking, you’re done talking. No need to keep the conversation going.

Why do we always ask for someone’s name?

What is the name of the biology student? No idea. And I will think about that for a while longer. Why do we even ask for someone’s name if you never see or speak to each other again? I find that quite amusing. And saying ‘biology student’ is enough. When I leave, and it’s late, the biology student is still in his tent. He already mentioned that he has read three books during his not-so-long holiday, and I think he’s well into the fourth one now. But yeah, that’s an assumption. I don’t really know what he’s up to in his little pop-up tent.

The church of Agnetha and Björn

The route that follows is varied. It nourishes me and feels good. In the tiny village of Verum, with 52 residents, there is quite a large church. I read that Agnetha and Björn from ABBA were once married here. It must have been quite a spectacle back then, almost unimaginable in such a small hamlet with almost no roads and where even drinking water is not available at the church.

Camping spots enough all day

As a wild camper, I constantly scan my surroundings for a suitable camping spot: flat, with a good ground, and where the stakes can go into the earth. Today I feel relaxed. I see spots everywhere. It should be a piece of cake. But I celebrated too soon. I had three spots in mind beforehand. One spot marked on the map as ‘nice resting place by the river’, another one by a picnic table, and otherwise somewhere in the woods. There are woods everywhere with large open fields. That shouldn’t be a problem, right? Well, apparently it is.

Where is the camping spot when you need it?

The resting place by the river is completely overgrown; at the picnic table, there’s only gravel, and the forest has suddenly changed entirely. Everywhere there are heath and bilberry bushes. Fortunately, I still have an option: a shelter 1.5 kilometers off my route. It’s starting to get dark. As much as I can, I run with Wheelie towards the shelter. I pass two barriers. Cars can’t get here, but pedestrians can. Eventually, I come across a dark and dense forest path. It has gotten dark, and when my app says ‘destination reached’, I only see a pile of stones. No shelter in sight.

Desperate

I am at my wit’s end. At such a moment, I could curse myself for always setting out so late, and now it’s getting dark quite quickly. I struggle my way back over the non-existent path and try to set up my tent on a piece of ground that seems suitable. A bit of bumpy grass, but that will have to do for once. Well, not really. I can’t get the pegs into the ground no matter what. I pack my tent back up and walk on.

An abandoned house becomes my salvation

Then I see an abandoned house. Made of stone, no less. You don’t see that here often. All the windows are boarded up, but the wooden barrier that was in front of the door is lying on the ground. I can get into the house. Should I just sleep here then? Some rooms are full of junk, but others look quite decent. I see no pests, and it smells good inside. A bit dusty, but nothing disgusting. The walls and the floor are covered in graffiti. That’s really all there is.

I can’t see a hand in front of my face

I lay my sleeping mat on a pentacle drawn on the floor. Whether this pleases the gods, I don’t know, but it’s late and I want to sleep. The house is pitch dark. Not a little dark, but truly dark. The windows are boarded up, and outside it’s night. I turn off my headlamp and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. But they don’t adjust to anything. I see absolutely nothing. Not even my hand in front of my face.

What is happening in the basement?

There is also a staircase to the basement. I’m curious about what there is to see, but I won’t go down. What if I fall or the wooden steps are rotten? I can’t raise the alarm because the internet signal is very poor. It must be nonexistent in the basement.

I hear something.

I’m just relaxing a bit when I hear something. It had been completely silent the whole time. What is it? Is there someone in the basement? No. Fluttering. I listen. It gets more intense. Something starts to sweep just above my head. It reminds me of how swallows fly: fast, agile, and elegant, but also incredibly quick, making all sorts of turns. I turn on my headlamp and see large shadows darting across the walls. Bats. At least, I think they are.

Bats and satanism.

And then it suddenly becomes clear how much influence you have from everything you’ve ever seen in horror movies. Creepy basements. Serial killers in the woods. Bats with sharp teeth. Bats flying into your hair. Bats that… what exactly? And also in an abandoned house with a satanic symbol.

No internet signal anymore.

I dive my head deep into my sleeping bag and want to look up on the internet what bats might do, but I have no signal anymore… I had some just a few minutes ago. Here I am. In an abandoned house, in the middle of the night, on a pentacle, with bats above my head and no internet.

The fear in charge.

I firmly talk to myself. Don’t act up! This isn’t a movie! Don’t let yourself be scared! What are the chances that something will happen? I decide that I can look up the answer tomorrow as well.

Overnight stay: Bodarp