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For the last few weeks before I returned to the US, I worked in Copenhagen (København). I flew there every Monday morning, and home to München every Friday afternoon.

A bicycle tour from København to München

Dave Hood
2004-02-19 20:21:47

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flurry. Definitely pheasants.

It was 2:00 by the time I reached the bridge at Vordningborg and left Sjælland. Wind-powered generators at the bridge, idle: I’m glad it’s a quiet day; clearly it isn’t always like this.

This is a long bridge – it was 2:20 by the time I reached the other side. As I rode across, I heard a repetitive metallic swishing sound. Thought it might be something scraping against the bridge, until it came abreast – off to my right, over the water, a pair of swans. Amazing that one could hear their wingstrokes! – and that they would sound metallic!

And I see a sign for Rødby, 60 km to go! The computer says I’ve already done 130. Now, I might push it up to 160, an English century, but 200k is more than I signed up for. I’m not in that kind of shape, and I need to ride again tomorrow. So I decided to go as far as I could, find a place to spend the night, ride on tomorrow. No early-morning ferry for me.

Rode straight across the second island, Falster, rather than taking the roundabout bike route. Stopped for munchies, but I’m clearly about to bonk. Tired, sore, probably a little hypothermal. The information kiosk said there was a hotel at Guldborg, and I decided to stop. This at least gets me onto Lolland, the last of the Danish islands.

The motel was nothing to write home about, but the people were friendly and it was a welcome sight nonetheless. Bath down the hall; but the season is over; if I’m the only guest, and I think I am, it hardly matters. Nap, half an hour. Hot shower, much better. Then out for a little walk to see the town, two blocks wide and about three blocks long.

Took a Blind Vej, one block east to the shore. Everything white, still, vague outlines of the other side. I see the water as a white film on a vast black lake of cocoa, or maybe cappuccino – and floating like puffs of whipped cream, the largest flock of swans ...