The last few weeks have been lonely, despite the many wonderful encounters with people. It tires me to have to make so many decisions alone every day, to be solely responsible for my safety, my food, my joy.
I assume that northern Sweden is even more remote, with hundreds of kilometres of nothing but forest. The idea of following the European Divide Trail into this solitude doesn’t appeal to me at the moment.
I start the day with a slightly more diffuse version of these thoughts. A little listless about continuing to cycle, about getting ready for it.
On my way to pack my bike, I meet Manni at the hostel reception. He is from Franconia and has been to the North Cape by motorbike. We exchange plans and experiences. We decide to spend the day together in Gothenburg. I still have a few errands to run and need time to organise my thoughts. I tell him that I’m not sure whether I want to stay on the European Divide Trail. What for him was nothing but forest for days on end on his motorbike would be weeks of nothing else for me on my bike. After seeing his photos and listening to his stories, I really want to go to Norway. I also expect that the Eurovelo 1, which runs along the Norwegian coast, will be a little busier. What originally deterred me is now attracting me.
Manni and I continue to walk through Gothenburg, I buy mosquito repellent, we eat bao buns. In my head, the decision to leave the EDT and turn towards Norway is taking shape.
I set off at four o’clock, leaving Gothenburg. I’m still on the EDT - I have to go north anyway, even if I’m going to Norway. I buy a high-visibility vest, screws and superglue at the DIY store.
I head for the first shelter after Gothenburg. My suspicion is confirmed: this is exactly where we were with the scouts five years ago. There is a new shelter now, but we had squeezed fourteen of us into the old one when it was pouring with rain (it might have been possible for six people). Like sardines in a tin, nobody could turn around. This time the shelter is full (allegedly, there are only three of them ;)), but I find a campsite 100 metres further on. I manoeuvre my bike over the hiking trail, and strike up a conversation with the Belgians camping next to the shelter. I invite them to visit me later.
For the first time, I put up my tent completely. And for the first time, I make a fire. Vlada and Nick join me, they bring blueberries, and we warm up cinnamon rolls over the fire. A relaxed evening.