The lightening struck and the thunder came immediately. We saw it through the tent, on the other side of the grass where we had put up our small camp. The rain started to pour down and I read a book loud to Emma, almost screaming because of the heavy rain smattering on our tent. As she started snoring lightly I lay down to get some sleep as well.
We were awaken by a man telling us we had to move our tent, but he didn’t say why. So in the rain we had to carry everything to the other end of the camping, and the rest of the week we had to sleep in a soaking tent. The next day we learnt that 17 people got hurt when the lightening struck, because their tents were right next to the fence. So was ours, but lucky for us we had chosen the other fence.
That was not our first misfortune though. It was almost midnight and we were on our way to the festival. Listening to the radio, laughing, the windows fogging… we didn’t even know where we were. There were many signs pointing towards Falun, but none to Borlänge where the festival would take place. As we realized we had gone too far we stopped the car by an information point, rolled ourselves up on the seats and spent the night in the car. Stiff and with aching bodies we turned the car around the next day and drove the few kilometers to the city we had not recognized the night before.