The First Hideout: What Happened at Our Adult Summer Camp
In May 2026, a group of adults came together in Brandenburg for the first edition of The Hideout. Everyone arrived alone. Most did not know anyone else.
Over three nights, there was painting, archery, lake time, tie-dye, trivia, campfires, a murder mystery and a surprising amount of information about random facts such as wombats.
By Monday, people were exchanging photos, repeating inside jokes, and making plans to see each other again.
It was the first real test of an idea I had been working on for the last seven months: that adults still need places where they can step away from regular life, play, make things and spend time with other people without having it draining you.
Why I built The Hideout
I started building The Hideout because I wanted to create the kind of break I could not seem to find anywhere else. I wanted it to feel easy to arrive alone. I wanted enough structure that nobody felt lost, but enough free time that the weekend did not feel like another tightly managed schedule. I wanted people to be outside, make things with their hands, eat together, laugh a lot and forget about their phones, and “the outside world”.
Mostly, I wanted people to feel comfortable enough to simply be there.
Until the first campers arrived, I did not really know whether that feeling could be designed—or whether anyone else wanted it as much as I did.
Then Friday came.
Friday: bags, first hellos and slightly awkward energy
The first afternoon had the kind of energy you would expect when a group of strangers arrives at the same place carrying bags, work-week exhaustion, traveling, and no real idea of who anybody else is.
People found their rooms. There were introductions, polite conversations and the natural awkwardness of figuring out where to stand and what to do with your hands.
After dinner, things started to loosen up.
We walked into a field full of flowers at sunset. It was one of those moments that made everyone naturally slow down without being instructed to do anything and just be in the moment.
Later, we lit the bonfire and introduced s’mores to a few campers who had never encountered them before (!!!).
One person had brought a guitar, which turned the evening into an acoustic mini-concert with off-key singing, scary stories and people staying up later than planned because nobody wanted to be the first one to go to bed.
The weekend had started doing its thing.
Saturday: painting, lake time and a useful wombat fact
Saturday began with optional morning yoga for the early risers. From there, the day moved into painting, wandering around the property and a trip to the lake.
One camper had brought a book and fully intended to spend part of the afternoon reading it. Later, she told us she never opened it because “the company was just too good.”
There was also trivia, where two campers revealed themselves as absolute trivia queens. This was also the moment the rest of us learned that wombats produce cube-shaped poop. Did you know that?
I did not know that. I know it now. Personal growth comes in many forms.
Sunday: tie-dye, arrows and very committed acting
By Sunday, people were fully committed to the weekend :)
We made tie-dye, tried archery and took part in team challenges. Later, everyone dressed up for a murder mystery dinner featuring terrible accents, surprisingly serious acting and some very strong costume choices.
Awards for best acting and best costume had to be given. Once people commit that hard to a bit, I believe in rewarding it.
The venue also came with a few unexpected woodland characters. There were giant chickens with feathered feet, fresh eggs at brunch and a very wholesome deer-feeding moment.
None of that had been included in my original experience design, but I am happy to give the local animals partial credit for the weekend.
Monday: back through the portal
Monday arrived far too quickly. We had one final brunch, packed our bags and prepared to return to Berlin and regular life.
It had felt as though we had stepped into another little world for a few days and now had to walk back through the portal carrying tired but smiley faces, leftover snacks and considerably more tie-dye than we had arrived with.
The group chat quickly filled with photos, memories and plans to meet again.
A few weeks later, we did.
What mattered most
The activities were an important part of the weekend.
There was painting, archery, tie-dye, trivia, lake time, games, food, a bonfire and many small surprises, but the part I loved most was watching the feeling between people develop in its own way.
People cheered for one another. They created inside jokes. They made room for both the chatty people and the quiet ones. Someone could join an activity, disappear for a while, return later and still feel part of the group.
That mattered to me because I designed the weekend with a great deal of care, but this part cannot simply be written into a schedule. You can create the conditions for people to spend time together, you can remove some of the awkwardness, you can give them things to do and reasons to laugh but you cannot force a group to click.
When it happens naturally, it is better than anything you could have planned.
What the campers said
One camper described the weekend like this:
“It felt like stepping into a whole other world. I tried things I wouldn’t normally do, like archery and intuitive painting, and somehow ended up bonding with strangers who quickly felt like friends.”
Another said:
“Everything felt incredibly thoughtful and intentional, and you could really tell how much love and care went into every little detail.”
One camper explained that the experience gave her more than she had expected:
“This past weekend wasn’t just relaxing. The throwback summer camp vibes tapped into all these other things I didn’t know how much I needed: friendship, ease, playfulness, nostalgia, creativity and joy.”
Someone else told me:
“Everyone should experience something like this at least once in their adult life.”
I am obviously not an unbiased observer, but I agree.
What happens next
The full Hideout will return in Summer 2027.
Until then, there will be smaller ways to step into The Hideout world through our
Side Quests: one-day pop-up events in and around Berlin built around adult play, unusual activities and meeting people without another round of awkward networking.
The first Hideout began as an experiment. A group of people trusted the idea before there were years of photographs, reviews or proof that it would work. They helped turn it into something real.
To that first group: thank you for showing up, committing fully to it, and helping create a weekend I will never forget.
And to anyone reading this who feels a small spark of recognition: I hope you will be part of the next chapter.
Join the next Hideout
The Hideout returns in 2027. In the meantime, explore the Side Quests and join the list for dates, first booking access and upcoming Side Quests.
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