Day 21: Lidköping to Göteborg | 138km
12 June 2026
I woke up to the sound of gentle waves just outside the tent, and the illuminated tent revealed that the sun was already high in the sky, even though it was only 7 am. I had planned to sleep in a campground, but when I arrived the previous night, the reception was already closed. So instead I checked Google Maps and found another suitable spot just a bit further away on the coast (Is it still called a coast when it’s a giant lake?). Unlike many days on this trip, I felt more excited about staying on my own than in a crowded campground, which I guess is a sign that I’m getting used to this way of life, three weeks in.
I knew I had a long day of riding to make it back to my hometown, which is why I had set the alarm for 7 am. After a quick breakfast at a gas station nearby, I pumped up the tires and started pedaling. Just as the previous couple of days, my legs felt heavy, and I questioned how my body could handle another day of almost 140km. But again, I kept at it, mentally dividing the route into shorter segments to distract myself from the actual distance I’d need to cover.
Although the early morning had been sunny, ominous clouds littered the sky in the direction I was headed. Now, I’m not one for checking weather apps, especially since it didn’t really matter. It’s not like I was going to stop if I saw a bit of rain on the forecast. However, three weeks in and perhaps learning this way of life, I feel like I’m starting to better predict what will happen just by looking up from my phone and into the sky. I knew which direction the wind blew, so the open landscape made it possible to predict the weather by the color of the clouds ahead.
One particularly dark cloud was headed in my direction (or I in its), but I didn’t feel like getting soaked, so I adjusted my route slightly to literally bike around the cloud. I wanted to see if I could escape nature, and for once, I could. It’s obviously not an exact science when I say I biked around the cloud, but visually, it looked like I had. Now on my left, I could see the thick rain a few hundred meters away while I pedaled on determinedly next to it. After my misadventures on the mountains in Norway just days into this trip, perhaps I’ve now accepted that it’s better to work with nature rather than force my way through it.
When another cloud eventually got to me, there was no alternative route to escape to, so I sought shelter in a bus stop to wait it out. Again, it seemed patience was the way through, because a few minutes later the rain subsided and I could continue without getting too wet.
The day went by quickly, and after a short but lovely lunch stop in a tiny town called Sollebrunn, I realized I had covered half the distance for the day. How perfect, almost as if I planned it that way. Fueled by potatoes with roast beef and the promise of a huge plate of bolognese when I reached Gothenburg, the second half of the day also felt surprisingly easy until I hit the outskirts of my hometown, where the sky started pouring down.
For the final 35km, thick raindrops beat me down, but if you’re from Gothenburg, you know this should not be surprising but rather expected. Seeing the skyline, which, unlike really big cities with actual skyscrapers, is not that distinct, felt weird. It was only three weeks ago I left from here, yet it felt like three months, and I was now a slightly different version of myself (more scars and skin aged 10 years).