It was 20 km from Strukkamp to the ferry terminal at Puttgarden but it was 20 km into a headwind they made it seem longer. At least the weather (wind aside) was ridiculously good and the roads quiet. The only item of note was this telecommunication tower at Puttgarden which you could basically see as soon as I left camp.
Oversized Buddhist prayer wheel was one thought that came to mind when I first sighted it.
At Puttgarden I was told by a gruff German ticketing officer to join the queue of cars to purchase my ticket. And so I did. EUR 17.50 gets you and your bicycle a one way ticket on the only company (Scandie Lines) ferry that runs the 45 min crossing between Puttgarden in Germany and Rødby in Denmark.
There’s something about getting on a ship and going “away” that relaxes the soul. Sitting outside on a beautiful cloudless spring day watching the distant wind turbines planted on the ocean bed turn slowly in the breeze with the sun shimmering off the Baltic Sea that made me want the transfer to take longer. I know a man called Steve.J who has spent more time at sea than Salvador Avlarenga on various cruises. I can understand the attraction. Sort of.
German bureaucracy at its worst. One person and a bike and 5 dockets.
Goodbye Germany.
Hello Denmark.
Almost instantly the tempo felt different upon settting off In Denmark from the ferry terminal. The pace seeemd slower, he drivers more courteous than their German counterparts and certainly equipped with more patience. Even then the cycle way that ran alongside the main road had a middle strip to delineate sides. All very ordered and detailed.
At midday I stopped and plonked myself in the midst of a daisy field to do a radio interview for “Radio Jackie” back in the UK.
The grass was soft, the sun shone gently on the field and whilst I waited for the journalist to call I plucked a few Daisy’s and drew breath . Everything seemed to slow down. When was the last time you stopped to pick a flower or smell the roses? I’d advise doing it sometime soon and avoid finding excuses not to.
Solid Danish practicality on display at every junction where the cycle path crossed a road.
I had imagined this part of Denmark to be wide open expanses of flat farming land interspersed with bridges and long straight roads. I was right. This stretch was dead straight for 6.1 km and slightly uphill. Into a headwind. Of course it was . I can also testify to the fact that a recently fertilised Danish farm field smells just like its German counterpart. Rancid.
Storstrom Bridge that leads into Vordingborg. Built in 1937 it’s 3.2 km long and by far the longest bridge I have ever self powered myself across.
All that remains of the once impressive Vordingborg Castle. The castle once covered 4ha and was protected by over 700 metres of ramparts. Today the goose tower measuring over 36 metres in height is the best preserved of all such towers In Scandinavia.
