Aarhus, Aalborg & Odense

Denmark

The original plan had been to visit Rostock and Berlin before heading on up to Denmark, but that meant having to go back on ourselves, so we decided we'd do those two on the way back round next year instead. We needed to get north as quickly as we could now that the weather was turning colder.

Twenty mintues beyond the Germany-Denmark border was a little camper stop just off the main dual carriageway. A really pleasant little place which we had all to ourselves for the evening. It was actually someone's private property that they'd decided to make into a campsite. It worked on an honesty system - you just put your money into an envelope, marked on the envelope what you'd used and how long you'd stayed for and then posted the envelope into a lockbox when you left. They even had a little unmanned, uncarred, unbooted car boot sale in one of the garages. We had a look around it after arriving, at all the random nick nacks on offer. We stole as much as we could fit in the van and went on our way.

Not really. I did step on a dead mouses head as I walked into the garage though. After alerting Rach to the news she casually informed me that she had stepped on it as well, as she inspected a little ashtray priced at 40Kr.

The picturesque garden that we'd parked next to had an orangery which I sat in listening to England fuck up the 4th Ashes Test.

We had a spliff left over from Amsterdam. Rach started making some bizarre sense. She also revealed just how hilarious she really thinks she is, cackling at her own unfinished sentences. She may come across as fairly modest when sober, but I'm afraid it's all an act.

Aarhus

''Aarhus, in the middle of aar street...''

This is how my song about Aarhus goes, to the tune of Madness's 'Our House'. The original song was ''Aaaarhus, is a very, very, very fine house...'' to the tune of Crosby, Stills & Nash's 'Our House', but Rach didn't know that one so she angrily demanded it be changed to the Madness one. Stamping on animals, giant ego, constant furious demands, this is what I have to live with.

When we arrived in Aarhus we parked up at a free stop for motor homes, next to an American style diner with a real Cadillac perched on it's roof. Then the rain started. The first evening we stayed in the van while it rained, only venturing out to the shop for bananas, and for a traffic light photo opportunity. To explain, I'm building a portfolio of all the different styles of green man from around Europe. It's an exciting project. The style of the green man says a lot about a country's character. More on this in due course...

The traffic lights in Denmark are frustrating. Firstly, there's millions of them. Secondly, they only seem to stay on green for about three seconds. Especially the ones signalling a right or left turn. When waiting to turn left into the street with the diner, the green light changed back to red so quick I didn't actually move. And I was the first in the queue. As you can imagine, lights this rapid made getting my green man picture rather difficult. After about the fourth time of walking into the middle of the road, aiming my phone up at a traffic light, then walking back out onto the pavement after I'd missed yet another opportunity, I did start to wonder whether the green man project was worth the hassle.

When we went to explore the town the next day we really regretted not going out the night before. It's a great little city. We weren't too upset though as we were coming back down this way after Aalborg, so we would have another opportunity.

Aalborg

On Day 69 we stopped at a quiet rural location about half an hour outside of Aalborg centre. We were right on the sea edge surrounded by fields of long grass, deer, cows, wind turbines and little wooden boats bobbing in the water.

I kept nipping out of the van to gaze out over the water / take photos of the deer / have a slash. This turned out not to be very wise. I woke up the next morning with a couple of bites on my left forearm, although I thought nothing of it.

It was still raining. Just non-stop. We hung around the van playing games, watching films, and desperately needing shits, until we fell asleep.

The next day we made our way into Aalborg city. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't think of a song for Aalborg. So I kept singing the Aarhus one instead. Aalborg was another lovely place. Picturesque streets filled with multi-coloured terraces, great bars and quirky little bits of street art and statues to be found everywhere. It was just a shame it was STILL raining.

We stopped for a drink in a locals', where four punters and the barman were sat around the little bar, totting, smoking and watching a domestic football match on the TV. After sitting down, I peeled my coat back and found my forearm had developed a big red swelling. An oval-shape, about five inches long and a few wide.

I looked up what could've bitten me on Google. Search: ''bite red swollen Denmark''

The first result came back:

''Denmark's most dangerous animal. The Danish tick can carry bacteria that can be transmitted to humans. The most well-known bacterium is Borrelia, which can damage the nervous system if left untreated. If bitten, wash the bite area with soap and water. If the bite area becomes swollen and red, you should seek medical attention as soon as possible...''

At this point, if I wore glasses, I'd have moved in closer, lifted them above my eyes and squinted at the text.

''Deer are the preferred host for nymphs and adult ticks, and therefore there are many ticks in areas with deer. Ticks prefer humid conditions and are often found in forests, scrubs, meadows, bogs and fucking vans if dopey bastards keep getting in and out to take photos of the local wildlife.''

Excellent. I'm going to die.

Aarhus again

I fell asleep that night praying that I didn't have Lyme Disease. That's a first. I've got to stop photographing animals - it just doesn't end well. One plus from the day was that Rach had come up with an Aalborg song, inspired by the 'Friends' homage bar we came across in the town (and the relentless rain) - ''Aaaalborg there for youuu, when the rain starts to fall...'' Genius.

After waking to (thankfully) find I had no more bites, we headed back down south for Aarhus again.
In the evening we ventured into the centre to see it in lights. We had some drinks in a couple of really classy bars. One was a wine bar with walls completely shelved and packed with wine. There was some kind of event going on down the spiral stairs but we couldn't quite work out what. There were speeches, presumably in Danish, but no laughter. It was either a very dull work do, a suicidally dull wedding reception, or a reasonably engaging Danish lesson.

We had a pretty bad but very filling meal at a pizza restaurant where they didn't allow diners to use their phones - an extraordinarily charming, fun and annoying gimmick - then staggered back to the van, dissatisfied and fat.

Overall, I really loved Aarhus. One of my favourite places yet.

Odense

The arm seemed to be okay. The redness had gone. The blue line Rach had drawn around it to monitor the swelling hadn't though. We were in need of a shower.

After arriving in Odense, we parked up next to a river with a strangely attractive power plant looming over the otherwise green scenery in the distance. We were each going about our general business in the van when all of a sudden we looked up to see a massive ship gliding by the windows. It was quite a shock to see something so big floating down such a small waterway. It was obviously a shipping route despite it being so narrow.

The Crash

We witnessed something quite shocking on the morning of Day 73.

Four female rowers were rowing up the river past the van, in the opposite direction to the ship the previous evening. We watched them as they went by. Then I turned my attention to something else.
Rach had carried on watching them - ''They're going to row into that ship in a minute if they're not careful.'' There was no panic in her voice, so I thought nothing of it.

''Come on girls, you're gonna have to move.'' At this stage I walked back over to the window to have a look. There was a large ship heading straight for them. It slowly became clear that they didn't know it was there. They were rowing with their backs to it, and were going to hit it in seconds if they didn't realise and move. But they didn't.

About half a second before the collision, all four girls screamed. They'd finally noticed it, but it was way, way too late. Then bang. The row boat richocheted off the ship, which just ploughed through the middle of them like they weren't there. All four oars went clattering into the air. The boat capsized, and all four women fell into the water. Me and Rach sat there open-mouthed. It was difficult to tell what damage had been done. At least two of the girls appeared to be swimming back to the shore but it was hard to tell from so far away. The ship had just kept on going up the river. There were no warning horns or anything to suggest anyone on the ship had noticed what had happened.

I exited the van and saw a cyclist coming up the river path on the other side from us, heading towards the girls. Thank God, as there was nothing we could do from where we were - there were no bridges anywhere.

Eventually the cyclist rode on, which signaled that all was probably okay, although we could tell from the body languages that they were all still shook up and upset. I couldn't help but think it was all very avoidable. It was a shipping route and they were rowing down the centre of it, facing the other way. Crazy.

After a day in the very pleasant Odense we parked up further up the river where there was a free, outdoor public shower. Happy days. Rach lathered up in her swimming costume as I conducted a photoshoot with 20 wasps huddled around a leftover cup of lemonade.

Recommended park up in Odense (with a free shower!):

http://park4night.com/lieu/88980/