At the end of March '98, Ernst and me decided to have a holiday, on the PP. We had only 5 days.
Legoland in Denmark seemed a nice goal (maybe we could see the new robot-Lego).
We came there in vain (as you will find out), but we had a great time in Jutland anyway.
Things started really well. On our first stretch (to Lochem, Holland, where my sister lives), we found "Huize Avondrood", the obvious place to live when we will be old...
Next day, we were really on the road. First in Holland, then in Germany, trying small, sometimes off-road-type roads, taking a ferry over the Elbe, reaching Denmark at night, in the rain.
At the border, there was kind of a problem: I had tried to find the green (insurance) card for my bike, but had been unable to locate it (anyone
seen it?). Ernsthad, of course, forgotten his pasport. So we were hoping to be waved along, but the Danish guy wanted to see our papers.
I had told Ernst it would be better if we switched places (at that moment, it was his turn to ride), but somehow, we had forgotten to do so.
What I did was give the guy my whole wallet-with-important-papers. These papers include a lot of green cards (for my good old R3B, my Mr Bean,
and long forgotten green cards from previous years), but not the right one.
The man took a look at the papers, stared for a while, rather puzzled, at the only pasport it contained, and then smiled, gave me my wallet, and said it was OK. Thank you, Denmark... On to Legoland.
Well, as you see, getting into Legoland appeared to be slightly complicated as well, because it wasn't open until the 4th of April...
We found the one person who knew everything about it, and received press information. According to him, we were the only tourists who had come so far into the Lego offices and to find his office ("You meet Dutch people at the strangest places".)
Well, Denmark, or even Jutland , is more than Legoland, so never mind. We hit for the beach, in the West of Jutland.
By ignoring some Danish signs, which might have the meaning that the small path was meant only for bicycles, but on the other hand, our Danish is not that good, we actually really hit the beach.
We rode for more than 50 kms along the beach, and through the water (which, as I noticed, is very entertaining when you sit in front, and wear your Goretex boots, while Ernst sits on the back, without socks in his non-waterproof shoes...).
The people we passed wove friendly, with the only exception of a policecar, driving the opposite way.
They looked angry, and did not answer my smile and wave. However, they did not try to turn and get us...
I saw my very first Guillemot here, but it appeared to be dead :-(.
And the wind created art.
Getting off the beach proved more difficult than riding on it. Here, you see Ernst trying to steer the PP with the handlebars instead of with his weight....
And here, the poor PP is stuck completeley, standing on her own, with her back wheel buried in the sand, on top of a sandhill.
How is Denmark, or rather Jutland, for a motorcycle trip? To be honest, not very exciting, apart from the beach. The East (undulating, trees here and there, curvy, small roads) is far more enjoyable than the West (straight roads, very flat).
They really have picturesque houses and farms, but they keep everything too clean, the Danes.
As for the Danes themselves (the Danes of Jutland, I mean!): they are friendly, really friendly, but slightly (this is a gross understatement) reserved.
They should be fierce and frightening of course, because the Vikings are their forfathers.
The only thing they left is this "VikingBurcht"; they took their character along...