Welcome to Sweden: An Avid Solo Traveler’s Paradise

Sweden is my paradise. I have tramped and/or camped in Sweden three times in the last year alone. It is my oasis of calm and solitude.

It is a physical challenge, a validation of myself and a testament of my independence, courage, strength and tenacity. In short, it brings out all the good qualities within myself that my negative core beliefs often have me overlook.

My love affair with Sweden

My love affair with Sweden began in 2021, in a post-pandemic world that had slowly and cautiously reopened to tourism. As a public health student and a worker in the hospitality industry, I was skeptical about travelling, so I knew I wanted my first trip to be solo and involve sleeping in a tent.

For introverts like me, a break from civilization is necessary, especially after a pandemic. I figured this would be quite easy. I would just hop on a train to rural Germany, somewhere out in the west far from my home in Berlin, and hike for 3 to 5 days and camp in the evenings.

Unfortunately for me, this was extremely difficult to navigate regarding permits and permissions for the trails and areas I was interested in hiking. I thought to myself, “Well, this is nonsense. Why can’t I sleep in a tent on public land?” So, I googled exactly that: Why can’t I sleep in a tent on public land?

The “all man’s right”

Sweden has a law that protects the right for people to roam and have public access to land. The law is accurately called the “all man’s right” or Allemansrätten in Swedish. The right remains yours if you follow the simple rule of “don’t disturb, don’t destroy,” or as many in the tramping community say, “leave no trace.”

I was overcome to read that a country with such a gorgeous landscape would want to encourage folks like me to take a breath of fresh air (literally) and get out in nature and appreciate the rock we live on. It was a beautiful concept, and I was excited. To me, this was the ultimate freedom, the ability to explore anywhere without fear of consequence.

After my first tramping trip on the Vikingaleden (I walked 70 kilometers on the Viking Trail) I was fully in love with Sweden. The few people I encountered along the trail, when I went through farming communities, invited me into their homes for food, showers and coffee. The hospitality was as beautiful as the country. I knew I was always going to want to go back.

Sweden in all its seasons

I have experienced Sweden in all its seasons for the last two years. My first trip was at the end of September, when it was crisp at night. I camped in early April this year and had my first experience living outside in the snow for a week. Every time I have gone, it was more exciting and adventurous than the last.

I returned home to Berlin from my most recent trip to the fjords in Uppsala County on September 8 this year, and the only ones out, fully enjoying nature, were the mosquitoes.

I revisited Uppsala to hike the Upplandsgaleden. The first night, I pitched my tent by a church in Gimo that has an outdoor charger and water supply for trampers like me.

I noticed right away that there was a surprising presence of mosquitoes, but I figured this was easily explained by the fact I was very close to a lake. I figured it would get better when I went onto the trail and walked away from the water.

In the morning I made breakfast, had a coffee and packed up camp. I hiked for three hours, halfway between two villages and the mosquitoes swarmed. I was bitten all over my legs, through my pants.

Enter the rain

Things took an even worse turn when the weather did. As I was in remote Uppsala County, nestled between an old iron works village and a farming community, the rain came. I quickly set up my tent to keep dry and wait out the rain, but to my utter dismay, it consistently rained for 3 straight days. And with the rain, came more mosquitoes.

I found myself imprisoned in my tent, being driven mildly insane by the constant buzzing of dozens (hundreds?) of mosquitoes trapped between my tent and the rainfly.

When the rain broke, I put on a thermal pair of pants with waterproof pants over, a thermal shirt with a sweatshirt, gloves, a hat and a bandana around my face, anything at all that I could utilize to keep the mosquitoes from biting me.

I knew I had to leave the trail as the rain flooded the grounds and the mosquitoes were insufferable, so I decided to go back the way I came to get a bus to leave the apocalyptic-like plague of mosquitoes.

Under attack

As I was walking as quickly as I could back to the village, sweating bullets through my double-layered clothing, I became aware that I was being followed by a swarm of mosquitoes. Every time I stopped walking, they would swarm on me – in my face, my ears, my hair, my torso, legs, arms and backpack. Everywhere.

When I made it back to the town, my first stop was the grocery store. I bought a 75ml bottle of mosquito repellent spray and I went outside and sprayed everything down – my backpack, my clothes (I finally got the opportunity to remove a layer) and my skin. I sprayed it in my hair, on my boots and my tent. I then made the decision to take the bus out to the fjords in hope that salty, moving water would be less appealing to the mosquitoes than the stagnant lake water.

Making friends

Mosquito repellent in hand, I took my chances in Östhammer. I found a wonderful camping location and spent the last four days of my trip out there. The weather was perfect. I met Cecelia, a kind-eyed Swedish woman who took interest in my campsite.

She asked if I ever got lonely and I smiled and said I didn’t. She then asked me how I could put up with the mosquitoes and I told her I had nearly emptied a bottle of repellent in only three days.

“This isn’t normal for us” she said. “They arrived again about two weeks ago with the rain. It has been so humid that more keep appearing, but it’s not normal for the weather to be this warm nor this wet in September. They should be long gone.”

After a short chat, she wished me luck and went on her way, and the next day I returned to Berlin. As I waited for my bus, I read an article about Berliners protesting plans to extend the A100 highway through the city to meet demands for higher car traffic. I sighed and thought, “maybe I’d rather stay with the mosquitoes.”