FURTHER: A TRAVEL BLOG: Skagen, Denmark

Independent travelers know that everything is not always perfect. There are missed connections, misplaced bookings, and sometimes you just get the date wrong. Our first twenty-four ours with out Dodgy rental van was one of those days when a combination of circumstances, some beyond our control, made for a day that was not one of our favorites but in the end turned out pretty darned good.

I wake in the middle of the night to a flapping sound on top of the camper. The wind is howling outside but we are mostly sheltered by low trees to the south and reed cloaked dunes to the north. I step outside and look up at windblown clouds racing across the stars. The giant flash from a nearby lighthouse startles me; then another. I walk around the camper just as another brilliant beam blinds me. I watch as the beam sweeps across the low dunes…then out to sea… then whirls back around illuminating the land. The trees rustle around me dancing in the stiff wind. I crawl back into the camper and lay wide awake still jet lagged yet tired and long for sleep.

Staring at the ceiling, my mind churns over a challenging and tedious day. It started with a city bus ride to a street corner in south Malmo to pick up a campervan. I stepped down from the bus and followed the directions I was given, but there was no sign of the campervan we had reserved months ago. At first I though I had been had, but I continued down the street to find a giant scruffy Viking standing by an equally scruffy van. Built in 1999 it was obvious this camper had seen better days. Its’ body was dented and dinged with faded paint. A crack zig-zagged across the top of the windshield. I had expected something better from the description on the website but rationalized that at least I would not have to worry about damage from our impending trip over the graveled roads of Iceland. The giant Viking introduced himself as Jarmo and quickly started to explain the camper’s systems and idiosyncrasies to me. Having arrived the night before, after a long drive to San Francisco and a long flight to Copenhagen, I was tired, jet lagged and not processing the information as well as I normally woud have. Nevertheless, I was soon on my way.

After a few stops to outfit the camper we spent the night at a campground near Aarhus, Denmark. Following a quick breakfast, I fired up the motor which clanked and clanged and spewed clouds of white smoke. To the not so bemused looks of the other campers, I roared up the hill and...the engine died. After several tries at starting the engine, it finally caught. Then I remembered that Jarmo had warned me to let the motor warm up to 50 degrees Celsius. After about ten minutes the gauge read 50 so I roared off again. This time I got about 400 feet and…..the motor died again. No amount of coaxing, swearing or starting fluid could revive the dead beast. Then finally…the battery died and the motor would not even turn over.

We called for road service and a knowledgeable young Dane had us up and running in no time. Somewhat chagrined and questioning the viability of the old camper, we headed up the road. Our destination for the day was the town of Skagen at the northern tip of Denmark. Along the way, we made our second stop in two days at Ikea (they are all over Sweden) to buy some things to stock the ill equipped kitchen in our van. The kitchen was short a few essential items like pots and pans and, most importantly, a sharp knife.

After a rainy night in Skagen, we woke to a sunny yet still blustery day. After a quick breakfast we were off on a walk to the very northern tip of Denmark to see the confluence of the North Atlantic and the North Sea.

Hangin' at the northern tip of Denmark

The two seas meet in a maelstrom of crashing waves with currents going every which way. Signs on the beach warn the unwary not to swim in this swirling cauldron of white water. We stroll back up the beach past a bird filled saltwater marsh and climb up on the dunes for an overview of the northernmost tip of Denmark. We continue past several World War II bunkers; hulking masses slowly deteriorating in the salt air. The blustering winds bring clouds to darken our sunny day. As we reach the parking lot, drops of rain begin to fall and we rush to our camper congratulating ourselves on the well timed return.