Without waking Cristoffer up I leave, Stockholm-bound. For a still undefined mistake of some sort I run out of gas along the motorway. Luckily I’ve got my spare tank.

After an hour from the event, a police car comes driving alongside me and tells me to pull over. They tell me I can’t ride on the motorway, but I tell them my engine size is 150. After a few phone calls they tell me I’m right and I’m free to go. We take a few minutes to keep chatting about my trip and after a customary picture we say goodbye and they wish me good luck.

I’ve got no news and no message from the couchsurfer that should have hosted me for tonight. I have to set camp somewhere. I find a lay-by near a lake along the motorway.