Stenungsögården => Bomstadbaden

Good morning from Stenungsögården Camping Site

After a magical night, we awoke between the reception and the parking lot on our coveted pitch WITH electricity. Among the cars, several guests from the wedding were milling about. We immediately recognized this by the pallor of their faces, especially the men, which lay somewhere between RAL 9022 (Pearl Light Gray) and rigor mortis. But they all moved more or less, so we didn’t feel the need to intervene.

Since it was drizzling a bit, none of the fellow travelers had much interest in embarking on the arduous journey to the sanitary facilities. But what must be done, must be done. When I finally arrived at the establishment, driven by the first wonderful coffee, and was grateful that I still remembered the access code, a little kid was standing at the door, tapping on the keypad in super slow motion. His apparently French-speaking mother was assisting him with similar placidity in his endeavor. I tried to translate the conversation with my seven hours of French lessons (in seventh grade, we had to learn with the proletariat during the first two weeks of school since our Latin teacher was not yet available). “Don't get nervous, my boy. Just try again. The impatient uncle behind you won’t hurt you. Take your time.” And the little one started again with stars, nine, five… My bladder and I were about to burst when the little Napoleon finally got it right. When I returned to our rolling home, the captain took a hearty swig from the Pastis bottle and then made his way as well.

The journey today was to Askersund. However, as the onboard navigator, I of course kept checking the pages of the Alfred Wegener Institute and various international weather services. I concluded that we needed to change our route. Just like that, I typed the new coordinates into the device. I’ll spoil it for you here: at the end of the day, I received a thankful look from the captain for this decision. Not beaten is half praised. In this context, it was somewhat of a knighthood for a simple crew member aboard such a vessel.

We refueled in the small town of Åmål and used the stop for lunch at Mickans Grill. A small joint with a few seats and two very busy but overwhelmed ladies at this time. We chose the “Kebab menu” twice. Once with bread, once with strips. The results were excellent. Since all seats in and around the bistro were taken, we sat at a table along with benches made of granite that appeared to be especially built for us and enjoyed this typical Swedish meal. We were not at all bothered by the sympathetic dogs peering out from a trunk. The food was delicious. Since Kadir is good to birds, in the end, some crows also got a bit of his bread.

Upon returning to the green beast, a family steered directly towards us. The question from the voluminous patriarch of “Where are you going?” we answered simultaneously with the line from the Serbian border guard from last year: “We are going to war.” We immediately clarified that, especially considering that it is anything but funny in these times. Given our Crocs and Birkenstocks, no one would have believed us anyway. We exchanged a few words with the young man and the rest of his family about burst tires and potholes just before the Nordkapp, and then the wild ride continued.

The captain himself steered the stealth vehicle along the modified route towards Karlstad. The camping site Bomstadbaden would be our destination for today. Located directly on the northern shore of Lake Vänern, it seemed perfect for our purposes. Upon arrival, our eyes immediately spotted the tennis and padel courts. Here we could perfectly pursue our daily sporting activities after having set the heaviest weights in the in-house gym.

During check-in, we experienced several surprises. The first was that there was still at least one spot available “of course with electricity.” Plus, we could even choose a spot. We opted for number 401. From there, we had to cover a distance of about 35m to both the beach and the bistro. Furthermore, the VIP showers, which were highly praised by the very articulate staff member, were also only about 41m away. Check. The biggest surprise, however, was the fact that the really very friendly and eloquent (younger) woman didn’t know Depeche Mode. No idea how we got onto this band, but neither of us could remember ever having met someone who didn’t know this band. So not at all. Never heard. Never seen. She was still looking for information online and stuck to her statement.

All manual tasks are now fully automated, and we had our plot set up in no time. The welcome beer tasted exquisite in the sun. Yes, sun. Here, I received the already mentioned appreciative glance. I had spared us the expected rain. Our new neighbor from Emsland greeted us very warmly, so we were already counting on an inevitable friendship. But he and his wife had enough to do with the poodle they brought along, for which they even had a specially designed outdoor lounging area with sun protection. There’s nothing that doesn’t exist.

We moved our seats to the beach by the lake. Even though we had seen much prettier beaches, we felt comfortable with the view of the sun and the sparkling water all around. The bartender suddenly left and returned a few minutes later with two glasses and a clear, sparkling liquid. Now it was all about gin.

We enjoyed this moment to the fullest and pondered once again the meaning of our existence and celebrated our friendship. When the solo entertainer in the camping site restaurant began, we were pulled from our thoughts. When he then belted out “I wanna do bad things with you”, we retreated to our quarters. Kadir conjured an amazing array of snacks for us, so we didn’t have to go to bed hungry. The onboard cinema still had a few documentaries in the program, but especially my eyes were getting heavier. We trudged the few steps to the VIP restroom to give our bodies some care. A beautiful day came to an end. Thank you, dear life.

Good night from the edge of Vänern