May 13, 2024

After another freezing night, I wake up with the sun on my tent. For the first time, there’s quite a bit of condensation, but with the sun, my little castle dries in no time. The zipper of my tent gives out—very annoying—but luckily there’s Velcro too, so I can still close it. I sit down at the picnic table to write and start dreaming of this as an office. Wouldn’t it be amazing to work somewhere different every day? Well past eleven, I hit the road again, in good spirits.

Today’s route is pretty boring—long stretches along the E4. There’s not that much traffic, but the trucks that thunder by aren’t exactly pleasant and I forget to refill my water. And wouldn’t you know it, I don’t come across a single source. Luckily, I bought a cucumber earlier, so I munch on that to fight the thirst. It’ll be fine.

My mind is still very busy. A few days ago I even had a kind of mini-outburst thinking about an email I received during my final days at work—about some policy change. I had raised questions, but the reply clearly came from someone who’s never set foot on the actual work floor. So short-sighted. I was furious. And now I find myself getting worked up about it again. Should I ask the deputy principal, who was CC’d, to respond instead? My God, Marnix—let it go. You’ll figure it out next year… Even today I notice my thoughts are still spinning. Rationally, I know it’s pointless, but still. What does help is coffee. When I finally find water, I make a cup and am able—just for a moment—to enjoy the flavor, the landscape, and a quiet mind.

At the ruins of an old church, I spot a campervan. A woman is flipping pancakes and—yes!—a yellow Dutch license plate. I wish them a good meal and we start chatting. Turns out they’re from Hoorn—fellow West Frisians! Instant bond. I meet the whole family: Marissa, Mark, and their enthusiastic boys Stan and Maik. Marissa asks if I want a pancake with bacon. I’m hesitant to say yes, but it sounds delicious. “Just say yes!” she urges—and I do. It’s lovely. The youngest excitedly tells me about their adventures here in Sweden. One of his highlights? A giant tractor drove past on a dusty road, kicking up so much fine dirt they couldn’t see a thing—and it even got in his ears. What a great kid. And such a sweet family. Their first holiday in a borrowed camper, and wild camping is still a bit of a thrill for them. These are the encounters that make the journey. We exchange Instagram handles and I move on.

But finding a campsite today isn’t easy. There are houses nearby, or the ground is too uneven, or too close to the road. I think I’ve found a good spot—but the “grass” turns out to be a thin layer over solid rock. No way I’m getting my tent pegs in. With my flatland brain, I didn’t think to check. Lesson learned. I quickly pack up and keep going. Luckily, just under a kilometer later, I find a spot. I pitch my tent in the half-dark. Just in time.