"How was the trip?" my friend asks.
I hesitate. I exchange looks with my partner. He looks curious and not sure about what I would say.
"I think... 6 out of 10." I proclaim. Then suddenly the earth starts shaking and swallows me entirely, like it's a starving monster. A low voice echoes from the depths:
"How dare you, ungrateful!"
The plan was based on three key assumptions that formed the framework for our trip:
- OPPORTUNITY! Around the May holidays, my partner was able to extend his vacation—a break he desperately needed.
- STARTING POINT! Our camper had spent the winter in northern Sweden, with my friend Rolf (an elderly man, incredibly inspiring and colorful).
- TIME LIMIT! Before May 6th, I was required to get the camper inspected.
Before we set off, we read a lot about the Lofoten Islands between winter and spring. We read about the places we wanted to visit. We were perfectly prepared! In theory.
What we didn’t take for consideration was that Olsikowa tends to beat her chest and shout, “You think I can’t do it? CAN’T DO IT?! Just watch me—I’m strong, independent, and unstoppable!” In other words, I’m like a Powerpuff Girl created in a giant cauldron with ingredients like stubbornness, optimism, pride… and then someone’s hand slipped and added a generous dose of “couch-potatoing under a blanket”!
In other words: I overestimated myself.
We left home in Stockholm literally the day before spring arrived. Buds were appearing on the bushes and trees, the grass was almost turning green, and tiny flowers had started to bloom here and there. I was craving these sights and deeply disappointed to go back to a colder climate, but I stayed cheerful because the beginning of the trip was wonderful: we arrived in Skellefteå and stayed for a few days with Rolf. That area always fills my heart with joy—it feels like coming home. During that time, we met up with friends, listened to many Rolf’s golden insights, feasted on delicious food around an all-day bonfire, and relaxed in the sauna.
After we completed the camper inspection, we continued on our journey. We reached Abisko National Park in the far north of Sweden, near the Norwegian border. When I saw ankle-deep snow, I knew my personal survival challenge was beginning.
I had already discussed with my partner the theoretical topic of our differing limits of endurance and whether we needed to spend every second of the trip together. So, when after just ten minutes of walking in -3°C I said I’d had enough and suggested we go separate ways, Kamil didn’t even blink. I knew he didn’t mind such conditions and was really eager to see Abisko.
I returned to the camper, bundled myself up in two sleeping bags and a blanket, and he happily trotted deeper into the snowy wilderness.
After crossing the Norwegian border, we plunged even deeper into winter’s grip.
I don’t know if it was hidden masochism, but it still didn’t occur to me that maybe we should change our original plan. That plan involved continuing further north to see the island of Senja. The result? I spent my time there warming my butt in the common room at the Skoghus campground and heating up the camper using the site’s electricity.
One night later we were on our way to the Lofoten Islands. At last, we said “goodbye” to winter—though spring still remained out of reach. You could say we entered a sort of weather purgatory, but that stopped mattering once we laid eyes on the towering mountains, winding roads, and charming Scandinavian cottages. The Lofoten Islands were absolutely breathtaking.
Visiting this place outside of tourist season definitely had its perks. The area felt deserted, the trails were nearly empty, and the campsites offered lower prices. We spent a week soaking in the magic of this far-off archipelago. It was the kind of beauty that could make your head spin.
I regret not having more time to fully enjoy this wonder.
I prefer a slower travel pace—one that allows time to sit and sketch what I see. I like creating more memories in one place and giving it a special meaning that way. On a trip, I want time not only for hiking but also for laziness and rest. This time, though, we didn’t have the luxury for that rhythm. All the days blurred together in my mind, becoming something like a vivid dream packed with action. It inspired me to create a new poster, made entirely with a single line.
I must also admit that after leaving the Lofoten Islands, I was so desperate for spring and warmer temperatures that I quietly plotted to skip a few attractions. When Kamil realized, he couldn’t stop laughing. I probably reminded him of someone frantically searching for a toilet with a full bladder.
I drew two conclusions from this trip:
1. The Lofoten Islands are absurdly beautiful.
2. Before heading to a cold destination, first satisfy your craving for warmth and spring greenery.
