Category: Blogs ENG

#throwback – 9 June 2024

Yesterday we went to bed very early, especially David John, and that’s why we wake up very early today. I follow D.J.’s example and by 7:30 a.m. (yes, you read that right) I’m packed and on my way. I’m not really in the mood for a proper breakfast— a banana and some coffee make a perfect alternative. My roommate has already left quite a while ago. Some people do like to overdo things.

It’s chilly and a strong wind is blowing. Not exactly pleasant, but as long as I keep walking, it doesn’t bother me too much. At least it’s still dry.

Fortunately, the route is easier again, and after about an hour and a half of walking, I reach the Navsjöns Nature Reserve with a huge lake. This place must get pretty crowded in summer, because there’s a picnic table every fifty meters or so. There are also lovely little beaches and easy access to the lake for swimming. I actually see quite a few people—which doesn’t happen often. Most of them are fishing.

I try to find a table where the wind doesn’t blow too hard, but that’s easier said than done. I want to fry some eggs, you see. The flames go in every direction and I lose a lot of heat, but in the end I devour my version 2.0 breakfast as if I haven’t eaten in weeks. Absolutely delicious!

The weather stays changeable, but I get lucky. Most of the rain falls just after I arrive at my shelter around 3 p.m. There, I can cook out of the wind, go for a swim (read: give myself a proper wash), and calmly do my laundry. All in all, it’s a lovely afternoon with alternating rain and sunshine.

At one point, it really starts pouring, while the sun shines brightly at the same time. That must mean there’s a rainbow somewhere! And yes— I step out of the hut, turn right, and see a stunning double rainbow. A breathtaking gift from nature.

#throwback – June 6, 2024

All my electronics are charged again, my clothes are clean—I’m ready to hit the road and get out of this hotel as fast as I can. The room price includes breakfast. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve let go of fixed mealtimes—and wouldn’t you know it, today I don’t feel like eating early at all. But I force myself anyway, because hey, it’s “free.” What a dummy. Typical Dutch, right?

The start of today’s route is awful—an endless industrial zone and a busy road. Suddenly I realize I no longer have my trekking poles with me. And just like that, I remember exactly where I left them: in front of the cold-looking church in Norrköping. It had started pouring rain, I was distracted and just trying to stay dry. So incredibly stupid! I hadn’t missed them until now, because the terrain’s been flat and paved, and I haven’t needed my tent. You see, my tent is set up with one of the poles.
Going back makes no sense—it would mean walking 20 km, and who’s to say they’d still be there after a day and a half? I could kick myself.

Checking the map, I see there’s an outdoor shop 1.5 km ahead, still on my route: XXL, the Swedish version of Decathlon. And there I find beautiful carbon fibre poles—the kind I’ve always wanted. In the Netherlands they’re insanely expensive, so I never bought them. These are super lightweight, foldable in three sections, and €100 cheaper than at Bever. In the end, I’m honestly quite happy, even if it sucks that I had to spend €81 unexpectedly. But I really wanted poles like these.

The rest of the day is amazing. After a gorgeous hike along a winding forest trail, I cook dinner with a stunning view (rainbow included), and find a spot to sleep by a lake full of swans.
So… let’s not whine about those €81 anymore.

#throwback – June 4, 2024

As strange as the place seemed, surrounded by all that felled wood, it’s wonderful here. The sun filters through the trees, and the strong scent of wood continues to enchant me. I sniff to my heart’s content. Around noon, after some writing and daydreaming, I head toward Söderköping.

The trail follows the Göta Canal, with its many locks. A serious difference in height needs to be bridged here, and it’s fascinating to see the locks lined up like steps in a staircase. As a Dutchman, I’ve seen plenty of locks in my life, of course—but I still find them beautiful. Such an outstanding example of craftsmanship. At one of the locks, I have an extended lunch at a picnic table, thinking about times long past—how the canal was dug, how the locks were built. To be honest, I can’t picture it properly. All I know is that it must have taken a massive amount of manual labor, without the techniques we have today.

Söderköping is a lovely, welcoming little town, with a town square, charming streets, and colorful buildings. The ice cream shop on the square is doing well. People are dressed for summer and full of good cheer. One of the streets is decorated with flower-shaped spheres—truly stunning, and the contrast with the steel-blue sky is phenomenal.

I would have loved to stay much longer in Söderköping, but I still need to walk a bit further to get away from the houses and find a quiet spot for the night. From the 30%-off bin at the supermarket, I pick up burgers and vegetables. I am Dutch, after all—even if I feel like a citizen of the world.

At the end of a dead-end road, I finally find a place to camp. It’s hard to find a patch of ground where I can actually get my tent pegs into the soil, but eventually I manage. No rocks or stones this time—just rock-hard clay.

#throwback – June 3, 2024

I sleep wonderfully in the roadside grass again. In fact, I’ve been struck by how well I sleep on this entire journey. Not that I never wake up during the night, but everything feels so peaceful and natural. Even waking up in the middle of the night feels that way. Every morning, I wake up completely rested, even though I usually rise very early and don’t sleep that many hours. Around eleven I set off, and not even two kilometers later, I feel hungry and eager to sit down again. And I can give in to that! I never could have done that “before.” I’d have thought it was ridiculous—who takes a break so soon again? But now it makes me feel proud. I even take the time to unfold my little chair and properly enjoy the moment. It feels so good to listen to your feelings and your true needs, no matter how odd they might seem. I feast on some bread rolls, my apple, the sunshine and the view. This was the only right decision. Period.

Water management fails me today. I used up the last of it with my morning coffee, and I don’t come across a single water source on the way. I pass a few farms, but there’s no one around to ask, and no outdoor taps in sight. A box of cherry tomatoes saves me—still 95% water, after all. I always thought “cherry tomato” was a silly word, but now it makes perfect sense. They taste like the sweetest candy and quench my thirst. Not having died of dehydration, I’m lucky enough to pass a church with a graveyard, where I can refill my water and cook my hot meal among the violets.

At my camping spot, I can indulge in sniffing to my heart’s content. Some people sniff glue, others cocaine—I sniff wood. My God, it smells amazing. I’ve pitched my tent in a half-cleared forest and I’m fully immersed in the pleasure of fragrant, fallen nature.

#throwback – June 2nd, 2024

In the middle of the night, around 1:30 AM, I wake up with a jolt. I hear people walking past my tent. It’s Saturday, and it turns out to be a group of teenagers who’ve decided to hang out on the viewpoint above. Fortunately, there’s nothing going on — they’re just chatting cheerfully, and by the sound of it, there’s no alcohol involved. Once the adrenaline fades, I fall back asleep after about twenty minutes.

In the morning, I eat my breakfast at the picnic table. I also write for a while, watch the birds, and let my thoughts drift. What a lovely way to wake up, and what a dream of a desk I have once again. I feel deeply happy.

The route that follows is a sharp contrast to the peaceful start of the day. I walk long stretches through industrial zones and alongside a busy road. At the end of the day, I discover that there was an alternative route — the one in the Swedish app Naturkartan was incorrect. Still, I happen to pass an Intersport where I manage to buy a new gas canister. A lucky accident, since I had almost run out.

When I arrive in the centre of Linköping, it’s so warm that I stick to the shady sides of the streets. It feels like Spain. The cathedral is covered in scaffolding, but inside it’s stunning — and pleasantly cool. Pride Month has begun, and rainbow flags are flying inside the church — as they should.

Sitting outside on a bench, eating an apple, I suddenly hear singing. The choir has started its rehearsal. It sounds beautiful, but what makes it even more special is how much fun they’re clearly having. There’s lots of laughter, and it’s a joy to watch the conductor gesture when something’s off and show how she wants it redone.

Much later than planned, I continue walking — not that it matters. It stays light for a long time here, and there’s still plenty of time to find a place to camp. I eventually settle in a grassy roadside spot in the countryside, overlooking some farms and fields.

You won’t hear me complain.

#throwback – June 1st, 2024

By seven in the morning, it’s already so warm in my tent that I have to unzip it for some fresh air. I truly love silence, but every now and then, I feel like listening to music. Often, it’s to amplify a certain emotion I’m already feeling. The music moves me. It even brings tears. All I feel is gratitude.

I’m travelling alone, but I feel completely surrounded and unconditionally supported by my friends — what an incredible gift that is. I think about them often, and they feel so very present. More than ever, I realize how important they are to me, and that with them, I can truly be myself — with all my quirks and edges.

Meanwhile, little boats are passing by, and unlike most people I meet on the road, they all greet me. A cheerful English captain even calls out from his sailboat, asking if I slept well. I’m still lying in my tent, sipping coffee and looking out over the water. And yes — I slept wonderfully. Exceptionally, even.

This intense feeling of happiness and gratitude stays with me all day. Gratitude for my friends, my children, my family, my ex, my colleagues — and for the life I live now. While some cows and calves look on, I set up my “kitchen” for the day. It’s such an idyllic little spot that it only intensifies my mood.

Suddenly, I get a kind of vision about what this journey of mine is really about. It’s still too early and too tender to put into words — the idea needs to sink in first. But wow, it fills me with joy and excitement.

Not long after, a wave of sleepiness hits me. And yes — there’s a bench waiting for me. I take a midday nap. Just because I can. And to top it all off, I sleep in a nature reserve that night, near a birdwatching point, and am once again gifted a spectacular sunset.

This day? A perfect ten.