Leisure

Winter Wonderland

Posted on by Hanna

There are strange and mysterious sounds
When the winds of winter blow,
The long nights are crystal clear and cold,
And the fields and meadows are covered with snow.
The stars are frosty against the sky,
And the wind’s whistle is shrill,
As the snow blows against the house
And drifts against the hill.
Yet, I like to see during the winter
A white carpet on the ground,
To plod aimlessly in the deep snow,
where deer tracks abound.
I like to feel the stillness
Of a crisp winter’s night,
Watching a full moon rise over the horizon,
Exposing a winter wonderland beautiful and bright.
Joseph T. Renaldi

DSC09789

Tell me about Sweden

Posted on by Hanna

A dear friend of mine asked me about Sweden. What is there to say? What is special about the country?
I like their high moral. The Swedish friends I have might say that the moral is hypocrisy but I like many of their views.
Sweden is the third-largest country in the European Union by area, with a total population of over 9.8 million inhabitants.
Sweden has a low population density of 21 inhabitants per square kilometre, with the highest concentration in the southern half of the country. Approximately 85% of the population lives in urban areas.
Southern Sweden is predominantly agricultural, while the north is heavily forested.

We stayed for Christmas Eve in Sweden this year and had a very cosy Christmas. As usual we went for beautiful walks in the countryside and along the coast.

Sweden has great nature. There are many nature reserves and national parks. Furthermore is the establishment of Sweden’s first national tourist bicycle route – a 370-km-long bicycle route in a unique coastal setting. The route runs all the way through Halland, connecting Helsingborg in the south and Gothenburg in the North.

En af mine kære venner spurgte mig om Sverige. Hvad er der at sige? Det særlige ved landet?
Jeg kan godt lide deres høje moral. De svenske venner, jeg har, vil måske sige, at deres moralbegreber er noget hykleri, men jeg kan godt lide mange af deres synspunkter.

Sverige det tredje største land i EU efter størrelse, med en samlet befolkning på over 9,8 mio indbyggere.
Sverige har en lav befolkningstæthed, med den højeste koncentration i den sydlige halvdel af landet. Ca. 85% af befolkningen bor i byområder.
Sydsverige er overvejende landbrug, mens den nordlige del er stærkt repræsenteret af skov.

Vi holdt juleaften i Sverige i år, og havde en meget hyggelig jul. Som sædvanlig og med stor glæde gik vi enestående ture i Haverdal Naturreservat.

Sverige har stor natur. Der er mange naturreservater og nationalparker. Desuden er etableringen af Sveriges første nationale turist cykelrute en realitet – en 370 km lang cykelrute i et unikt kystnære omgivelser. Ruten løber hele vejen gennem Halland, der forbinder Helsingborg i syd og Göteborg i nord.

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Kattegatleden

My Rescuer was a Ghost

Posted on by Hanna

I’ve told this story before but today it recurs on my blog once more.
A friend in Ireland told me to take care if I was going out in the storm this morning. But it’s only a moderate gale at the moment and it was on such a day we went for a walk on Samso, a tiny island in the middle of Denmark:

I thought of the last time I was here. The sun was shining, we laughed, told stories and had no problems passing the narrowest place on the reef.
But now, now it is different. It is an early November morning, and it’s freezing cold with a gale coming in from the stormy sea.
We are heading home after a night out on the reef. We are weary and cold. The storm, which meteorologists cancelled, came in after all during the night. I am not terrified, but the experience is frightening because the elements are raging on us.
We are in a hurry. The tide is coming in and it might be difficult to pass the narrow piece of land.
Finally, we reach the place called ‘Draget’. It starts to rain, and the prickly feeling in my face tells me that hail is mixed with rain. Strong winds cause us to lose balance on the stony ground. I have feared this moment but we dare not wait for low tide of fear of getting hypothermia.
I feel uncomfortable now that I can see big choppy waves over the crossing place.
The water will reach far up the legs. I get an eerie sight before me, like a flashback. A man is struggling in the water to save himself. I push the sight away.
Now it is important that we stay focused.
My friend goes first, he is about to lose his footing, the waves crash around his waist. We are much too late to avoid the tide.
Now it’s my turn. I walk out in the sea and I can feel stones and holes in the seabed. The water is ice-cold, and my breathing becomes paralysed by the shock of the cold. One moment of distraction gives a gust the chance to topple me over in the waves. I get my head under water, and the only thing I think about is not to panic, while I feel the current carry me away from land.

The next sight that greets me are two horses coming towards me. On one of the horses is a big man in oilskins. He throws a rope at me with a bottom loop. A new wave washes over me, and everything disappears in a seething sea. I swallow large mouthfuls of seawater, but finally managed to breathe.
Pull the rope down on you, the man shouts through the storm and the roaring sea. I managed after several unsuccessful attempts, because my fingers are stiff with cold.
Hold on to the rope, he shouts, as he pulls me towards the shore and safety. My friend is standing on the shore, he helps me with dry clothes and wraps me in a blanket. My rescuer nods approvingly, and begins to ride away with his two horses. Wait! What’s your name? He turns around, laughing and then he shouts, my name is Soren.
Thank you, Soren! He waves and in a glimpse he disappears in a sea spray.

We look at each other, shocked and relieved at the same time. It is hard to understand our luck. Where did he come from, Soren? How could he know that I needed him desperately, and why did he disappeared so quickly.
We walk the last kilometres of the reef and reach the car.
After a rest we drive back to our Bed and Breakfast in Nordby. When we pass the pond, we cannot believe that we have only been away for a day. I’m still in shock after the incidents on the reef.
We order breakfast with our hostess and tell our story.
She is appalled at our accident and asks to my rescuer. What did you say his name was? Soren, we only got his first name.
It’s a mystery who he might be, and she wonder about how he could be there when we so desperately needed him.

On our way home to where we live, we took a stroll in the town, Grenaa. As we pass the Market Square, I perceive a glimpse of a drowning man, the same vision I got on the reef.
I look around, and the image of the drowning man disappears quickly, but it is eerily lifelike.
My gaze wanders to a statue, and my legs almost fail me.
There he stands, my rescuer, Soren Kanne, died in 1860, drowned in a stream when he took the wrong way in the dark.
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This a real Tall Tale. However, I have been on the northernmost point of Besser Reef, and I have even rowed to the cemetery on the tiny island, Kyholm.
I have also been too late and had to wade the crossing, but in good weather.
One spring we had scheduled the trip to the northern point of Besser Reef, but as we stood at the narrow forager we reconsidered our choice. The current was strong and the water deeper than I liked.
Previously drowning accidents occurred here, according to the Nature School on Samsoe and to Le Drake.

I would like to have met Soren Kanne who was known as a lively and likeable man.

Soren Kanne has made his name known by a heroic feat. When a ship from Hornbæk stranded outside of Hessel and the Captain Ole Jensen Jyde couldn’t save himself, Søren Kanne swam, despite the raging storm with his horses out to the ship and brought him safely to land. This incident occurred 02.16.1835.

Jeg tænker på sidste gang, jeg var her. Solen skinnede, vi grinede, fortalte historier og havde ingen problemer med at passere Draget, selvom strømmen hev og trak i os.
Men nu, nu er det anderledes. Det er tidlig morgen, det er November, det er isnende koldt, og det stormer.
Vi er på vej tilbage til bilen, efter at have overnattet ude på revet. Vi er forfrosne og trætte. Stormen, som meteorologerne aflyste, kom alligevel i løbet af natten. Jeg er ikke bange, men oplevelsen er voldsom, fordi elementerne raser om os.
Alt det ekstra tøj vi havde med, har vi taget på. Natten har vi klaret ved at rulle os ind i vores vindtelt og tarp, og ligge os tæt sammen for at holde varmen. Nu går vi ad den besværlige vej tilbage til Draget. Rullestenene er svære at gå i, fordi vi er trætte og forfrosne, og fordi vi skal skynde os, inden vandet igen begynder at stige.
Endelig når vi Draget. Det er begyndt at regne, og den stikkende følelse i ansigtet fortæller mig, at det også hagler. Kraftige vindstød får os til at miste balancen i det usikre underlag. Jeg har frygtet det her sted. Men vi tør ikke vente på, at det bliver lavvande af frygt for at få hypotermi.
Det er med stort ubehag, jeg kan skimte, hvordan havet står i krappe bølger henover revet. Helt tæt på ser vi strømmen drive rask igennem revet. Vandet vil gå os langt op ad benene.
Jeg får et uhyggeligt syn, ligesom et flashback. En mand kæmper i vandet for at redde sig selv. Jeg skubber synet væk. Det er nu, vi skal over, og det gælder om at bevare fokus. Min ven går først over, han er lige ved at miste fodfæstet, bølgerne slår op omkring livet på ham. Vi er alt for sent på færde til at undgå tidevandet.
Nu er det min tur. Jeg går ud i vandet, og mærker sten og huller på havbunden. Vandet er iskoldt, og mit åndedræt bliver lammet af chokket fra kulden. Et øjebliks uopmærksomhed giver et vindstød chancen for at vælte mig omkuld. Jeg får hovedet under vand, og det eneste jeg tænker på er, ikke at gå i panik, mens jeg mærker strømmen bære mig væk fra land.
Det næste syn der møder mig, da jeg får hovedet over vandet, er to heste der kommer galoperende, svømmende imod mig. På én af hestene sidder en stor mand i olietøj med en sydvest på hovedet. Han kaster et reb ud til mig med en bunden løkke. En ny bølge slår ind over mig, og alt forsvinder i et sydende hav. Jeg sluger vand, men kommer op i den næste bølgedal.
Træk tovet ned over dig, råber han gennem stormens og havets brølen. Det lykkes mig efter flere forgæves forsøg, da fingrene er stive af kulde.
Hold godt fast i rebet, råber han, og trækker mig ind mod land og sikkerhed. Min ven står parat inde på land, han får det våde tøj at mig, og hyller mig ind i hans uldtrøje og et tæppe bliver viklet rundt om mig.
Min redningsmand nikker bifaldende, og begynder at ride væk med hans to heste. Vent! råber jeg, hvad hedder du? Han vender sig om, griner og råber, Søren. Tak Søren! Når jeg at råbe, inden han forsvinder væk i et skumsprøjt, og væk er han.

Vi kigger på hinanden, chokerede og lettede på samme tid. Det er næsten ikke til at forstå vores held. Hvor kom han fra, Søren? Hvordan kunne han vide, at jeg havde så hårdt brug for ham, og hvorfor forsvandt han så hurtigt.
Vi går den sidste kilometer, ad revet og når frem til vores bil. Her finder vi tørre uldtæpper og lunken te.
Efter en god pause kører vi hjem til Nordby til vores Bed and Breakfast pension. Da vi kører forbi gadekæret, kan vi næsten ikke tro, at vi kun har været væk et døgn. Jeg er stadigvæk lidt i chok efter mødet med Draget på Besser Rev.
Vi får morgenmad af vores værtinde, og fortæller vores historie.
Hun er rystet over vores uheld, og spørger til min redningsmand. Hvad siger I, han hedder? Søren, vi fik kun hans fornavn. Det er da en gåde, hvem han kan være, og hun undrer sig også over, hvordan han kunne være på pletten, da vi havde så hårdt brug for ham.
Der går nogle dage, med vandreture i Nordby bakker, men vi kan ikke glemme det dramastiske øjeblik på Draget.

På vejen hjem fra ferien går vi en tur igennem Grenå by. Det er, da vi går over torvet, at jeg i et glimt får et syn af en druknende mand, det samme syn jeg fik på Besser Rev. Jeg ser mig omkring, og billedet af den druknende mand forsvinder hurtigt, men er uhyggeligt livagtigt.
Mit blik strejfer statuen, og mine ben svigter mig næsten.
Der står han, min redningsmand, Søren Kanne, død i 1860, druknet i Grenå-åen, da han gik forkert i mørket.

Søren Kanne har gjort sit navn kendt ved en heltemodig bedrift. Da et skib fra Hornbæk strandede ud for Hessel og skipperen Ole Jensen Jyde ikke ved egen hjælp kunne redde sig, svømmede Søren Kanne, 16.2.1835, trods forrygende storm med sine heste ud til skibet og bragte ham frelst i land.

I kan læse mere om Søren Mikkelsen Kanne her.

Efterskrift:
Som jeg hentyder i overskriften, er det her en rigtig røverhistorie. Jeg har dog været på nordspidsen af Besser Rev, jeg har endda roet over til kirkegården på Kyholm, og jeg har været forsinket og måttet vade Draget, men i godt vejr.
Et forår havde vi planlagt tur til nordspidsen af Besser Rev, men da vi stod ved Draget, ombestemte vi os. Strømmen var stærk og vandet dybere, end jeg brød mig om.
Der er tidligere forekommet drukneulykker her, ifølge Naturskolen på Samsø og LeDrake

Jeg har desværre ikke mødt Søren Kanne 🙂 der var kendt, som en livlig og sympatisk mand, men det kommer jeg nok til en dag, men det haster ikke 🙂

A True Story about Unexpected Visitors

Posted on by Hanna

Old quarters are second to none when twilight is approaching.
Just before Christmas we went for a stroll in Hamlet´s old Helsingore. A visit in the harbour area was a necessity for me.

When the profile of Kronborg Castle grew bigger the vintage train came by with Christmas travellers heading for Helsingor.
The windows in the red wagon were misted. Noses were pressed against the cold glass to catch a glimpse of this tantalizing vision of the Castle Kronborg, the sea and the life on the harbour.
The misty look in the red train wagon turned my thoughts towards ghosts and their domains. That was appropriate because soon Restaurant Kronborg appeared with its beautiful yellow walls and warm lights in the windows.
Here were the old residences for the castle soldiers before the rebuild in 2005.

Maybe that’s why the restaurant was haunted by so many ghosts. Or did they come from the sinister case-mates under the castle? Endless dark tunnels that echoed with deep sighs and screams from defunct prisoners.

It’s hard to say, but the fact is that back in 2005 the doors of the restaurant were unlocked at night. Tables were covered and candles were lit to great despair for the guards, who thought the staff had forgotten to turn them off.

A strong feeling of being watched was sometimes so unpleasant that the staff avoided specific rooms.
The stories were fun and exciting when people were assembled, but the fun was over when they went alone to lock at night.

There was a stench of dead people and papers disappeared to reappear somewhere else.
Eventually it was too much for the restaurant manager, who asked for help by Birgitte Graae, a clairvoyant.
She guids ghosts over to the other side, but all the time there were new ghosts.

I hope they found their right place by now, or have found peace.
There have been peace about the ghosts, at least before this post. May it continue this way!!

Gamle kvarterer er uovertrufne, når tusmørket sænker sig.
Lige før jul gik vi en tur i Hamlet’s gamle Helsingør. Et besøg i havneområdet var et stort ønske hos mig.

Da konturene af ​​Kronborg Slot blev større kom veterantoget kørende i samme øjeblik med julegæster på vej mod Helsingør.
Vinduerne i den røde vogn var duggede. Næser blev presset mod ruden for at opfange et glimt af dette forjættede syn af Kronborg, havet og livet på havnen.

De slørede ansigter i den røde togvogn fik mine tanker til at gå i retning af spøgelser og deres domæner.
Det var passende, fordi snart viste Restaurant Kronborg sig med sine smukke gule mure, og varme lys i vinduerne.
Det var her de gamle boliger til slottets soldater lå, før genopbygningen i 2005.

Måske var derfor restauranten var hjemsøgt af så mange spøgelser. Eller kom de fra de skumle kasematter under slottet?
Endeløse mørke tunneller, hvor dybe suk og skrig genlød fra hedengangne ​​fanger.

Det er svært at sige, men faktum er, at tilbage i 2005 blev dørene til restauranten låst op om natten uden menneskelig indblanding. Borde blev dækket, og stearinlys blev tændt til stor fortvivlelse for vagterne, der troede personalet havde glemt at slukke dem.

En stærk følelse af at blive overvåget, var nogle gange så ubehagelig, at personalet undgik specifikke rum.
Historierne var sjove og spændende, når personalet blev samlet, men det sjove var forbi, da de gik rundt alene, for at låse om natten.

Der var en stank af døde mennesker og papirer forsvandt for at dukke op igen et andet sted.
Til sidst blev det for meget for restaurant chefen, der tilkaldte en clairvoyant, Birgitte Graae.
Hun hjælper spøgelser over på den anden side, men hele tiden var der nye spøgelser.

Jeg håber, genfærdene har fundet deres plads, eller har fundet fred.
Der var fred om spøgelserne i Restaurant Kronborg, i hvert fald før dette indlæg. Jeg håber, det forbliver på den måde!!

En vandretur fra Kastrup til Øresund

Posted on by Hanna

Jeg tog Metroen til Kastrup Station, og gik en frisk tur på 5 -6  km til Øresund Station. Turen behøver ingen planlægning, og er et godt valg, hvis I trænger til lys og luft. Der er flere redskaber I kan træne i undervejs. Der er også mulighed for en dukkert 🙂

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Nyheder og aktiviteter på Guldkysten? Guldkysten er det navn Politikens Per Thiemann giver postnummeret 2300 Sundby, efter priserne på nogle boliger ligger højere end på Strandvejen nord for København.

Outside my Window sat a Woodpecker

Posted on by Hanna

Today it is a week ago.
It started with rain that turned into snow.
It continued to snow. Large snowflakes there sat on wet logs.
25 – 30 cm of snow soon covered all surface.
Precipitation that fell in a short time.
But the spectacular weather was not over yet.

Sunday night arrived a new low pressure with gale force winds.
It got big old trees to succumb.
Old trees that had survived all sorts of storms, but now had to give way because of the large quantities of snow, sleet, that would not let go of the branches.

Branches blocked roads and railways
Large amounts of snow had to be taken away little by little.
There was no room for the packed snow.
Now it began to rain, and triggered large amounts of surface water.
The roads were hardly accessible, but then –
two days after the snowfall, there was joy.

Nothing is better than insects, caterpillars and beetles in broken trees and branches.
When I looked out my window on Monday morning a woodpecker sat on a broken branch, and enjoyed a great meal.
The woodpecker sat on the remains of the branch that beat against my window most of the night.

As of this writing another storm entering the country.
Take good care of each other ❤

I dag er det en uge siden.
Det startede med regn, der blev til sne.
Det fortsatte med at sne. Store snefnug der sad på våde træstammer.
25 – 30 cm sne  dækkede snart alle overflader.
Nedbør, der faldt i løbet af kort tid.
Men det spektakulære vejr var ikke slut endnu.

Søndag aften ankom et nyt lavtryk med kuling.
Det fik store gamle træer til at bukke under.
Gamle træer, der havde overlevet alle mulige storme, men nu måtte vige på grund af de store mængder sne, slud, der ikke ville give slip på grenene.

Væltede træer og afbrækkede grene blokerede veje og jernbaner
Store mængder sne skulle tages bort lidt efter lidt.
Der var ikke plads til den pakkede sne.
Nu begyndte det at regne, og udløste store mængder overfladevand.
Vejene var næppe tilgængelige, men så –
to dage efter snefald, var der glæde.

Intet er bedre end larver og biller i stormramte træer.
Da jeg kiggede ud af mit vindue mandag morgen, sad en flagspætte på en brækket gren, og nød et festmåltid.
Flagspætten sad på resterne af den gren, der slog mod mit vindue det meste af natten.

I skrivende stund er endnu en storm på vej ind over landet.

Pas godt på hinanden ❤

Walk softly when you walk among Hawthorns

Posted on by Hanna

Walk softly or you might intrude the fairies.

A Hawthorn is considered a fairy tree, it is believed to be extremely bad luck to cut one down, remove branches, or even hang things upon it  in case you disturb the little folk.

The Hawthorn symbolizes fertility peace prosperity and binding. This tree is associated with sexuality and destruction. It was though that sleeping in a house with hawthorn blossoms would cause great misfortune.

Although on May Day the blossom are placed at the based of the May Pole.
The gathering of hawthorn blossoms was known has “goin a maying”.

In the legends of Cu Chulain a goddess pronounces a curse on him in crow form and flys to a thicket of hawthorns known has “hawthorn of the crow”. ¹.

¹. Ireland Calling

Happy weekend to all of you ❤ …and a joyous walk 🙂

The Sea and the Ferry

Posted on by Hanna

Overfarten mellem Hundested og Rørvig er altid fuld af forventning. Rørvig er unik dansk natur, og sandstrandene hører til blandt de bedste i Danmark.
Vejret var flot for en uge siden. Vinden var tæt på stormstyrke, men med solskin.
Det var min plan at gå ud på Hov Vig Nakke, men vejret slog om undervejs, og sorte skyer lovede masser af regn, da færgen nåede Rørvig.
Jeg besluttede mig for en kortere tur, og tog færgen tilbage.
Det var godt det samme, da det bliver tidligt mørkt 🙂

Hvor er vi henne?  Hundested – Rørvig

Isefjord Hundested i solnedgang

‘I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in’
By John Muir

A Danish Kiterunner

Posted on by Hanna

Swimming and sailing in Copenhagen

Posted on by Hanna

This summer has been short and cold in the Nordic countries because of a weakened jet stream in the troposphere. But during the weekend everyone went berserk in the wonderful summer weather. Fascinating topics were used for sailing.
The harbor bus 992 sails from Teglholmen to Refshaleøen for a very small amount.

Denne sommer har været kort og kold i Norden på grund af en svækket jetstrøm i troposfæren. Men i weekenden gik alle amok i det vidunderlige sommervejr. Fascinerende emner blev brugt til sejllads.
Havnebussen 992 sejler fra Teglholmen til Refshaleøen til almindelig zonetakst.

De 5 havnebade i København