उजवाडाक आयलां: 11.10.2021
I hesitate for a moment... Then I simply get out. The barking of the dogs doesn't get louder but remains audible. There's no one here. The small customs house to my right is empty, at least. But where there are dogs, there must also be people. So I follow the barking until it gets louder. I turn around once more to look at the camper, where Chris remains sitting unperturbed. The barrier in front of me is down, and to the right I now see the sign facing the Swedish side: 'Border is closed'. That's it. But this sentence is not facing Sweden. We are EU citizens who want to re-enter. Hm... A few steps down the road, I see someone working on a house. I wave to him and he stops. 'Hello! Do you know about the border? Why is it closed? We'd like to enter!' I don't know if he hears me. The barking of the dogs gets louder and somehow everything here seems a bit strange and foreign. The audio book narrator was just talking about the end of the world. Somehow, I'm also a bit hesitant now. 'Ah! You want to come into Sweden? No problem, you can go ahead. Just lift the barrier yourself. It's only closed in the Norway direction.' Then he turns around and continues working on his house.
Okay, I'm glad. I've resolved it once again. Very good, no problem.
I quickly and proudly walk back to the cinnamon roll, only briefly open the door to get my phone and signal to Chris that he can go through. He just looks at me questioningly. 'Come on, Chris, start driving!'Chris doesn't start driving. 'There are cameras everywhere, Steffi!' And you can't just cross a national border on your own when the barrier is down just because the neighbor with a few dogs says it's okay. I hesitate for a moment. What could happen? But this is actually about principle and somehow I understand it as well. Chris doesn't cross the border.
And now?
We drive somewhere else and twenty minutes later we arrive at an official crossing. 'That's how it should be!'
So we're back in Sweden. Nice. Well, it's dark, it's raining, and the narrator of the audio book 'Der Schwarm' is getting more and more worked up about the report of the tsunami that sweeps through half of Norway and takes everything with it. A very, very uneasy atmosphere as we arrive in the darkness in Venjan. The campsite is located by the lake, it's night and no lights are on. The toilets are obviously locked, and after a short consideration, we just stay here and will probably report our arrival tomorrow. As so often on our journey, we experience that there is a very big difference in which light, which temperature, and with which mood one is in a place.
And I know that and I can perceive even more than that. 'Chris! This is a very special place here! I can feel it! We're staying here!'
And then I lie down in front of the camper on my jacket and let the endless starry sky unfold above me. I fall into it and swim in the endless darkness, which sparkles so magically and wonderfully calming. We are a small, tiny part of this universe and we have our place in it. Our worries may be big or small, but here they are tiny and there is so much more that exists. How nice that we are allowed to be a part of it. Chris lies down next to me and looks in the same direction.
The next morning, it becomes apparent what a wonderful place this is where we have settled down. Right by the lake, a sky as blue as steel, wide green meadow, and only a few scattered other campers around us. Otherwise, a pretty Swedish wooden house with a small reception.
I start a conversation with the friendly owner, who moved here with his family from the Netherlands just a year and a half ago. Ah! Someone who also had a dream of owning a campsite and then turned it into reality?! We chat for a while and what he says sounds good. In Sweden, there are numerous places waiting for tenants or buyers, and at least here in Venjan, in the west of the country, where it feels like you're by the sea because the lakes are so huge, they were warmly welcomed by the community and embraced as new residents. Interesting...
Well, for now, we enjoy all of this as vacationers because in the conversation it quickly becomes clear that, as a campsite owner, one naturally doesn't have much time to explore the country or let the soul dangle by the lake. Of course.
We have wonderful days here in Venjan. During the day, I focus on work, Chris reads and repairs and tinkers with the camper. We cook and paddle with rented kayaks on the endlessly huge lake, stop at a deserted island, and let ourselves drift. Chris goes for a run, once we also cycle to the smallest supermarket in Sweden, and at night it's so freezing cold that we actually turn on the heating once. For that, we also sit under billions of stars and both spot the same shooting star. And during the day, we sit under billions of mosquitoes, which fortunately have a special preference for Chris. I can't blame them.
Soon it's the weekend again and I wish that we truly enjoy Saturday and Sunday and don't drive again, so we stay a little longer and just lie around on the blanket, read, and rejoice in the abundant free time together. Chris cooks delicious fish that we brought from Norway for us, and while doing the dishes, he gets into a conversation with a bikepacker. He is cycling from Gothenburg to Lapland and is adjusting his saddle here. Quote: 'Pit stop' Finally, a real vacation feeling sets in. There are also always rolls in the morning and delicious coffee (not so delicious, much too thin). We wonder if we really want to be in Tampere, Finland, in a week? My boss and most of my teammates are waiting or working there. For a week, I wanted to breathe office air again and, above all, benefit from working together in person. Somehow I can't really imagine all that yet, and working in the camper office is going really well. We also want to see much more of Sweden, and Lapland is supposed to be so beautiful in the autumn. Just one more week... that seems too short for the long journey to Tampere. The shortcut via ferry from Umea is possible, but the word 'shortcut' doesn't fit our vacation demand. Alright then.
Since I have a great job with a great boss, a phone call is enough - and we find out that it's not a problem if we show up a week later. Suddenly, the vacation extends again, and we still have two looong weeks ahead of us on the road.
Yippee!
As we leave Venjan, I'm, as always when it's time to say goodbye, very sad. But if you want to experience a lot, you also have to let go a lot and always look forward and go on. Or drive on. And that's what we do. It's Monday afternoon after my morning meetings, and our 'European Outdoor Playlist' plays from the speakers as we set off again, further into the Swedish Nordic interior. Our next destination? Uncertain...