In the sparsely populated province Värmland in the northwest of Sweden there’s a square kilometer for every twenty or so Swedes. The region encompasses about ten thousand lakes, with the remaining terrain consisting solely of woodland. Värmland has, in short, no lack of wilderness. The province is unsurprisingly a sought-after destination for hikers and freshwater fanatics, forest nymphs, birders and fly-fishermen. The famous Swedish allemansrätt or every-men’s-right grants visitors the freedom to roam, to leave the beaten track and to set up camp wherever. Adventurers are allowed to pitch their tent under any evergreen they fancy, given that they’re not in someone’s immediate backyard, that they travel on after one night and that they erase all traces of their stay. ‘Leave the land more pristine than you found it’, is the informal rule of thumb. But an on spec venture into the woods, equipped with a tent and a backpack filled with freeze-dried meals, is not everybody’s definition of fun. For all vacationers who want more no-man’s land than available at the family camping but who prefer to delegate the planning: here are some suggestions for well-organized yet unadulterated Swedish friluftsliv — life in the open air. Sober luxury Obscured by the coniferous expanses around Säffle, in southern Värmland, lies Naturbyn — Swedish for nature village. Owner Thomas Pettersson single-handedly built six huts on a piece of woodland, inherited from his father. Three cottages are on land; for two you’ll have to look up into the trees; the last one floats some hundred meters off-shore, and can only be accessed by canoe. Or swimming, for travelers who forego bringing any luggage. I spend my nights in the highest of the two tree-houses at ten meters above ground. The hut, rocking in a summer storm, has been ingeniously built around the pines. A glass facade offers a broad view over the lake. The entire structure, including its interior, is Pettersson’s creation. One could dub the outlook as ‘Scandinavian design’; I’d just depict it as simple yet charming. Practically everything here has been forged from timber: the walls, the bed and the tree trunk seats. Pettersson approaches his affairs prosaically. Responding to the question if he has made the furniture himself, he comments dryly: ‘I didn’t feel like spending a fortune.’ The hut has no electricity, no running water, no wifi; it does, however, have a terrace, a wood stove, a paraffine lamp, an endless amount of tea lights. And, thank goodness, a fire extinguisher. Peeing happens in the forest or on one of the two composting toilets hidden between the bushes. Bathing happens in the lake. Open fire Pattersson has also assembled an outside kitchen. All necessities are available: firewood, matches, cooking pots. Fresh drinking water flows directly from its source. The only things left to do are lighting the fire and preparing your fare. After several days in Naturbyn I proudly designate myself the master of ignition. For every cup of coffee, for every bowl of oats, for every sauna visit: first kindling that fire. Without help of petrol, needless to say. A piece of cake when the sun is shining; less piece of cake after 48 hours of torrential rainfall. I gaze awe-stricken at the couple occupying the floating hut. They manage to keep their fire burning throughout the days of pouring rain. Mushroom picking What could possibly be more satisfying than foraging the ingredients required for your feast yourself? My chances of survival would be slim had I been left to my own devices, so I ask friluftsliv-guide Max to take me food-picking in the woods. We don’t have to look far: late summer plus a pine forest equal endless mushroom supplies. Between the mosses we find yellow hats of chanterelles in such quantities that they soon pile over the rims of our baskets. And although Augusts in Värmland are known for their abundance of red fruits, we fail to find a single lingonberry. 'I blame it on the late frost', Monsler concedes. In his organic garden, my guide has foraged some potatoes and onions, as supplements to our otherwise mushroom meal. Some might call this cheating; at least we haven’t set foot inside a supermarket.