The beehive of Duinhorst

After the grueling trek through the loose sand, I pitch my tent at Camping Duinhorst in Wassenaar. Everything is right here: neat fields, spotless sanitary buildings, friendly people at the reception. Really, that’s not the problem. But this… this just isn’t my way of being.

I notice it immediately. My body doesn’t relax. It’s looking for space, silence, the rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds. Wild camping is in my system now. And when that’s not possible, I look for nature campsites, places that come close to that feeling. Here, that’s impossible.

Caravans and campers are packed like sardines, there’s hardly any privacy. It feels like a beehive, even now in the spring. I hate to think what this is like in the summer, a carnival of crowds and noise. And then the road next to it, the N14, constantly present in the background.

As if that weren’t enough, I also pitch my tent right next to a lamppost. At nature campsites, such a thing doesn’t even exist, so I simply hadn’t thought about it. Luckily, I find my sleep mask in my sleeping bag.

A one-pot dinner and a protesting back

After a simple one-pot dinner and a warm shower, I crawl into my tent early. My legs are heavy and my back is protesting after a winter in which I’ve hardly walked. I fall asleep quickly.

The moment the tent became my home again

And then, somewhere between night and morning, it happens. It’s back. That feeling. My tent is no longer a tent, but my home. I sleep until half past eight, something that’s unthinkable at home.

When I lift my sleep mask, I see to my surprise that the sun is shining.

Lying in my sleeping bag, I make coffee. No rush, no plan. Just that moment. The silence in my head. The sun on my face. The birds singing. The wind is blowing in such a way that the road can’t be heard. Suddenly it feels right again. Here, like this, in my own way, this is why I walk. I stay lying there for hours. Because I can.

Force 5 winds to the Pier

Later, I walk through the dunes and the beach towards Scheveningen. Force 5 headwind, but it feels good: the wind in my hair, the sand under my feet, the wide beach ahead of me. In the distance, I can already see the pier, with the Ferris wheel getting closer, and at The Fat Mermaid, I wait for my boyfriend, a meeting I’m really looking forward to.