I get up very early. My sleeping place is uncomfortable enough that I don’t turn over again. I had soaked my oats in the evening, so I don’t even have to cook them. Within an hour everything is packed and a route for the day is planned. It will be along the big roads again, but mostly on cycle paths. Yesterday I crossed the border. The Norwegians overtake more respectfully, leaving me 1-2 metres of space, and I don’t feel as if I’m being pushed into the ditch by the next lorry. In the middle of the day I see deer and even a fawn in the distance. ...

The warm chicken broth (vegan) with the ramen noodles is the highlight of the day. Salt, flavour enhancers, fat – what more could you want from life? Today was a similarly frustrating day to yesterday. As soon as I leave my lonely campsite with its vast quantities of blueberries, I find myself wandering across many large roads. If the path does not lead across the road, it often turns out to be impassable or barely passable. ...

The first thing I do in the morning is jump into the lake. With the golden morning sun shining above it, I can’t resist. It’s cool, but very pleasant. After just one day of rain and grey, I’m already enjoying the strong sun that dries my tent. Daniel is already awake and offers me coffee. I pick some fresh blueberries for my porridge and share some with Daniel. Today I leave the European Divide Trail to make my way to Norway. I quickly question this decision when I get stuck between cars, lorries and the roadside on a federal road. I am grateful for my new hi-vis jacket, thanks to this over-fashionable accessory at least nobody can claim to have overlooked me. ...

In the morning, I only leave my tent when it is absolutely necessary. I listen to the raindrops pattering on my tent and spend as much of my morning as possible inside. I cook my porridge (keeping as far away as possible from the heat-sensitive tent walls), catch up on a few blog entries and laboriously start packing my bags. At some point I hear Nick, who has swum across the lake to me, calling out for me to come to them. ...

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 wake up at 4 a.m. I didn’t sleep well because of all the mosquito bites and period pains. At least I have plenty of time to find the ferry. It’s worth it. The signs on the ferry only show where bicycles are not allowed, but none show where they are actually supposed to go. So I follow the car signs and have breakfast in front of the barrier. We’re not allowed in yet. ...

The frame of my bike digs into my shoulder. It slips a little. I tense up to keep it and myself stable. My legs are shaking. My heart is racing. I’ve already climbed an estimated 20 metres in altitude, and I still have 10 metres to go. I can’t turn back. If I don’t keep myself and the bike under control, we’ll fall. Most of the bags are off, but my bike still weighs at least 15 kg. ...

Apparently the Danish equivalent of “Oh, well”. I’m practising this attitude today. I only practice “Pyt” because of the heat. When the asphalt stores it and gives it back to me, 26 degrees are unbearable for me. “Pyt” is the only right answer when my tyre is flat and I try to patch the tubeless tyre. Pyt, when the temporary solution doesn’t hold, the tool is not the right one and I’m sewing the casing with needle and thread at the roadside. ...

I’m still going strong until a quarter to three. Then I stop. I realise that the shop where I want to pick up my e-reader only opens until 7 p.m. That means I have four hours if I want to pick it up today. I still have 80 km and a few hundred metres of altitude to go, so I really get pedalling. It’s fun to fly through the countryside, but I’m only sad once, when I don’t stop for a lake, and once for a kiosk. I have music in my ears, which has accompanied me for years during sports, the rhythm drives me forward. ...

Day 15: 24.06.24 Sometimes the only way to get around is to hop. That’s how I feel right now. Since I arrived at my sleeping place, I’ve been bubbling over with joy and happiness. Now I’m going for a walk in this heath landscape. Unfortunately, I can’t pronounce the Danish word for it, but I really like it. The woman who filled my bottles for me in the early evening (and gave me a free lemonade) advised me to use this heath as a place to sleep. ...