Husabergsudde => Kärrasands Camping

Good morning from the Husabergsudde campsite!

When I woke up, this Henri was still shouting his slogans like Die Toten Hosen in my head. “More, give me more.” I told him that he was out of that game for now. Later, I learned from Kadir that he was having a very similar morning. Good thing the bottle was empty now and we couldn’t be tempted anymore.

I organized my visit to the nearby sanitary facilities and was curious if the poor soul from last night would still be sitting there. When we checked back around 2:12 AM, there was a completely soaked and exhausted bicycle traveler huddled on one of the benches, as I suspected. All the hooks were occupied with wet clothes, as were all the available sockets where power banks, smartphones, and who knows what other devices were being charged. I briefly considered offering him the second sleeping spot on the captain's lawn. However, I quickly dismissed that idea.

So, I set off and greeted the two neighbors in spot 37, who could only move in the deepest of gaits within their tunnel-like tent structure. Despite the Swedish license plate, the woman greeted me in German. After her greeting, she had something else on her mind. She asked me if we were the “music makers.” I hesitated for a second but didn’t explain that we were the Music-Maker. Before I could even respond, the question was at least 99.97% rhetorical, she explained that we “should please not play such loud music between eleven and two o'clock next time.” I was maximally confused. Did she mean to tell me that we should have started at 2:01 AM? Did she possibly actually mean the lunchtime, which could well be different here than in a conservative small town in our country? Or did she just want to vent her frustration that she had to stay in this tube with her companion or simply didn’t have the courage to knock on our giant and make a friendly request—one we of course would have responded to promptly? Anyway, I smiled politely, said “okay,” and moved on. I have really gotten old.

We chatted nicely with our neighbor on the other side over a cup of coffee produced by the barista (who by the way hadn’t really heard anything from us). Then it was time for us to move on. At the same time, that meant for Petra that she would have to manage without power from our cable again. We didn’t worry about that at all. All the best to you at this point.

When we left the site, we skipped the formal checkout with the caretaker and said goodbye. We hadn’t been received that warmly after all. As the onboard navigator, I suggested taking small roads to our destination for the day. Since it was purely a transfer trip, we didn’t have any impressive sightseeing spots planned for today anyway. The drive again generated great joy among all on board. Forest, water, gravel, very few cars, and even fewer people. Sometimes it felt like we were driving through the sets of Michel or Pippi.

Without any special occurrences, we approached our destination, Kärrasands Camping. The site by a large lake had excellent reviews in our favorite app and on Google. As the booking officer, I had already reserved a spot online for the Military-Benz and us during our journey. When we stopped in front of the entrance, we saw almost exclusively German license plates. So, they speak German. Upon entering the reception, the very friendly woman asked me “Swedish, English or German?” I decided to go with Swedish today. However, I had to immediately backtrack because only this one sentence came to mind, which the Swedish ladies had taught us back on Tjörn. We chatted comfortably in German and were again assigned our favorite spot number 36. My Captain rolled the stealthy Benz onto the campsite and was satisfied with the location choice as the washrooms were directly opposite. Finding the power connection for our rolling shelter was a bit tricky. We were close to firing up all the lighting of the green giant. However, Karl-Heinz from Bernau and Günther from Wanne-Eickel would likely have immediately reported us to the southern Swedish camping police, thanks to their existence as permanent campers with long-service medals for sixty years of loyalty. The connection was hidden in a hedge, so we briefly considered whether to just use our all-terrain tires to … but it worked conventionally as well.

When we exited the lump, we noticed a very specific smell. A sign confirmed our suspicion. “Latrine” was written there in big letters. After a brief discussion about the situation, the captain decided that a) it was bearable after all and b) that we would be staying in the living room of our villa due to the imminent rain anyway. We organized ourselves as usual. During a joint tour of the area, we noticed the special charm of this site. Located directly by a lake and somewhat aged, this camping experience still had a relatively urban feel. This impression was also confirmed when we looked into the wash and service areas. According to the description on their website, the German operators place great value on this.

Yesterday evening and the night with Henri still lingered a bit in our clothes. Therefore, there was only a large glass of white wine for each of us. Afterwards, cook Kadir conjured up another wonderful platter of delicacies on the tiled table. We lounged around for an hour on the lounge furniture in the west wing. Since we still had material on the electronic devices, the Music-Makers became active again. We produced and were very happy with the result. As the health coordinator, I emphasized the importance of self-care, so that all traveling companions still managed to attend to their obligatory dental and oral care despite the heavy rain. We bid farewell to the seventh night together and delighted in our musical products separately one last time.

Sleep well, my Captain