Nimis in Ladonia

In Sca­nia there is a coun­try that is not listed on any offi­cial map — Lado­nia. The enor­mous drift­wood com­plex ‘Nimis’, which sits on the steep north­ern slopes of Kullen Penin­sula marks the cen­tre of Lado­nia. Already in 1980 the artist Lars Vilks, began build­ing his work of art. Two years later his activ­i­ties were dis­cov­ered by the author­i­ties and resulted in a bit­ter dis­pute over the legal­ity of the con­struc­tion – after all it is built in a nature reserve.
Nimis is unique and a proof of the fact that it is worth not to give up. Demo­li­tions, arson, and court bat­tles have not stopped Lars to build fur­ther and he keeps on fight­ing for the preser­va­tion of Nimis. In 1996, he declared the inde­pen­dence of the micro nation Lado­nia and just recently we had the chance to visit this amaz­ing and spe­cial country.

It’s week­end and the weather is nice, so we get up at 6:00 am, have a quick break­fast get on the way towards Mölle. We fol­low the signs to Him­mel­storps Hem­bygds­gård, an old farm which located close to Lado­nia. Our drive ends in a small for­est car park. We take our back­packs with water, food and pho­tog­ra­phy equip­ment, and off we go. Pass­ing the idyl­lic red and white farm house of Him­mel­storps Hem­bygds­gård, we fol­low the yel­low “N” (for Nimis). We hike slightly uphill over the top of Kul­laberg and after half a kilo­me­ter we enter a dense decid­u­ous for­est. The path leads steeply down­hill over gran­ite rub­ble over­grown with moss, tree roots, and slip­pery soil. Occa­sion­ally, we catch glimpses of the blue Kat­te­gat which glis­tens in the morn­ing sun. Sturdy shoes are required, and we are no longer sur­prised that it took two years before Nimis was dis­cov­ered.
The slope is get­ting steeper and impas­si­ble – we sup­port our­selves off of trees, to climb safely over boul­ders. Sud­denly we dis­cover a sort of por­tal in front of us — a door­way which marks the entrance to Nimis. Behind the por­tal starts a tun­nel which steeply grows down the slope like a sore con­sist­ing of count­less pieces of wood. First we just watch in awe and amazed.
After enter­ing the tun­nel, we climb, slowly fur­ther down, con­sid­er­ing each sin­gle step. But the con­struc­tion, which is held together by old rusty nails is amaz­ingly sta­ble and appears to be en-rooted with the uneven ter­rain. The tun­nel seems to have no end, but after about a 10 m descent, we slowly begin grasp the extent of Nimis. After find­ing the exit of the wooden labyrinth we can see sev­eral drift­wood tow­ers and build­ings before us. We decide to “con­quer Nimis” and to climb to the top of the high­est tower. The whole com­plex stretches almost to the waters of the Kat­te­gat. Huge gran­ite peb­bles form the beach and we spend the next hours to explore Lado­nia.
We open our senses to the won­ders of this spe­cial place and take in the many impres­sions, the beau­ti­ful colour con­trasts made from wood, pale green decid­u­ous for­est, grey rocks and the blue of the sea. Lado­nia is really is a unique coun­try and we are lucky to have for us. After a while more vis­i­tors arrive and we slowly get on the way back.
We are not sure about what is more stren­u­ous, the climb or descent. One thing how­ever is cer­tain, all the effort, the hike through the for­est and the explo­ration of Nimis is worth it in any case. Have fun in discovering.

After­word:
Nimis is a proof for the human imag­i­na­tion and cre­ativ­ity, and that we all are able to make our dreams come true. Lars Vilks shows us that it is worth­while to stick to our ideas. No mat­ter what the dif­fi­cul­ties, if we stay flex­i­ble and use our cre­ativ­ity to find solu­tions, we will always succeed.

Thanks Lars, for build­ing Nimis as a reminder for us!