Day 6: Struer to Hirtshals Denmark 255km

We are beginning to get into the groove of being on the road.

Maybe we were a bit jet lagged when we left London.

We can see and think more clearly now. 

Being on the road can have that effect.

 

 

A Danish breakfast to start the day.

 

We're enjoying the companionship of being on the road again.

 

We'd rather be in this Paris, today. We have heard the news of rain and flooding in Paris in France.

Notice the red tape on the visor. Attached by my driver to remind himself to keep to the right.

 

Wind turbines close to houses. They must have conquered the noise issues that beset the turbines in New Zealand.

Queens Anne's lace borders the road. Farms are verdant. 

We spotted a large tanker with beam sprays spraying liquid effluent/fertiliser on some recently mown fields. That explains the smell and perhaps the lush growth.

 

Wind turbines marching out to sea.

 

Looking ahead...

We met Heidi from Switzerland and her friend on the ferry. 

Heidi's bike is the same model as Mella who took us from Alaska to Patagonia.

 

Cows outside. What's so remarkable about that?

We are used to our cows being raised outside on pastureland in New Zealand. 

We haven't seen many cows outside on the farms as we have ridden through Denmark.  Later when we chatted to a lady in an organic food store she said that cows that produce organic milk are likely to be seen outside. Otherwise cows will be inside until perhaps a little later in the summer.

 

 

Downhill! The farmland near Thisted is rolling country. Large barns house stock.

 

A joyful abundance of flowers.

Arif has been in Thisted for five years. He is a long way from his Kurdish homelands. 

We are glad to have a chance to chat with him. He has a friend in New Zealand but doesn't know where, he has lost touch for now. Arif is a reminder of how life can be changed when we least expect and how many people's lives are being changed by war.

Normal?

Reflections in Thisted harbour...

 

Young men lounging, hanging out together.

 

Wild roses perfume the air. 

A lovely welcome at the Sea Front Hotel and herrings for lunch.

Dick is in herring heaven.

 

Home for the night...

As the sun sets a lone trumpeter is out on the Seawall playing Louis Aarmstrong 'What a wonderful world'

I see trees of green,

Red roses too.

I see them bloom.

And I think to myself,

What a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue,

And clouds of white.

The bright blessed day,

The dark sacred night.

And I think to myself,

What a wonderful world.

Oh yeah!!! 

And I think to myself of my father. 

This was one of his favourite songs.

He played the trumpet sometimes.

His mother was Danish.

I know so little about my Danish heritage. I want to know more.