I Keep Pinching Myself

We have officially arrived in Denmark. I mean officially because we had to go through an official border check which we haven’t had to in any other country. There is generally no official sign or gate or any indication that you have crossed into another country – merely just a feeling that you are somewhere different.

We had grocery shopped up a storm in Germany beforehand because everything suggests Denmark and Norway will cost heaven and earth which proved right today when we parted with just under 20€ for 2 coffees and a slice of apple pie. Lesson learnt.

I generally don’t like to travel that far when we arrive in a country, ( listen to me like I’m a professional traveller), because you can miss out on too much. We still can’t comprehend that we are in Denmark. It seems such a big deal when you’re sitting in little old NZ but here it doesn’t appear real and I keep saying to myself “you’re in Denmark”.


After lunching by The Baltic Sea we headed to our first campsite about 30 km from the border.

The blurb on it had said “grassy area, picnic tables and bbq pits near a lake perfect for hiking and biking”. I expected the place to be packed but as we approached down what looked like some farmers driveway, (yes I was getting the sideways glance from the driver), we discovered that we were the only ones there.

This is us parked into our little designated area complete with picnic table, water and a pile of precut firewood. What else to do but light a fire.


We also managed to forage from the fields around us blackberries, apples and plums growing in abundance. Not one to waste free produce it was quickly turned into Blackberry and Apple Pie washed down with another bottle of cheap vino infront of a roaring fire. Welcome to Denmark.


Today we have discovered the medieval town of Ribe, Denmark’s oldest town. Its charming.



The cathedral which stands in the middle of the Centrum is beautifully restored.


We visited the Viking Museum for a taste of Viking history.


However the real jewel in the Nordic crown is The Nightwatchman.


For hundreds of years the Nightwatchman has patrolled the town looking after the streets, watching for fires and threats of floods with his lantern and his spiked mace keeping trouble at bay.

Nowadays he is just for show but as he wanders the streets telling tales of long ago and singing his songs he is truly the towns greatest asset.


We thoroughly enjoyed his history tour of Ribe with his delightful humour. The tales of the floods anf the fires that have ravaged the town, the stories of the houses and the Nightwatchman’s many responsibilities.

Tonight there are no roaring fires, we are sandwiched between other motorhomes in the town carpark in Ribe but its been a fantastc introduction to Denmark thus far.




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