A Belt Excavator and the JCB Song

I was heading towards the lake today. There are road works in many places, and as I passed a belt excavator it reminded me of this song; The JCB Song.
Have you ever passed a construction site with a five-year old child. They are able to stand there for hours checking every little detail.

Today wasn’t a day for standing still. The cold weather is here to stay for awhile.
I met a man at the lake. It is very refreshing, he greeted me. Fie! What a cold, and I forgot my hat.
Remember your Beanie or your hat! Your head emit a lot of heat – in fact, up to 75% of your body heat.

Happy Walk ❤


Frozen lake - Lyngby SøJeg var på vej mod Lyngby Sø i dag. Der er vejarbejde mange steder, og da jeg passerede en gravemaskine, mindede den mig om denne sang; The JCB Song. Har du nogensinde passeret en byggeplads med et fem år gammelt barn? De er i stand til at stå der i timevis, og ingen detalje er for lille.

I dag var ikke en dag at stå stille. Det kolde vejr er kommet for at blive i et stykke tid. Jeg mødte en mand ved søen. “Det er meget friskt i dag, men fy! Hvor er det koldt, og jeg glemt min hat”.
Husk din Beanie eller din kasket! Dit hoved udsender en masse varme – faktisk op til 75% af din kropsvarme.

God tur ❤

“The days are short,
The sun a spark,Athene and me
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.”
From the poem; January by John Updike

‘The summer was lovely and a light breeze made the walk enjoyable for my friend and I. She has a high metabolism like me, like a hobbit, and we didn’t get far before we had our first meal on a bench in the garden of Frederiksborg Castle.’

Today the temperature is slightly difference to put it mildly. There is frost in the air and severe wind but the sun is shining.
I have layer upon layer until there are no more space under my jacket. Nevertheless, I take a short break on a bench beside Athene.

My walk is about 15 km long and I don’t have much time before darkness set in.
I bought water in a shop but I cannot open the bottle. My fingers are already stubbornly frozen. I pack the bottle into the rucksack and continue the walk past the spectacular little castle, Badstuen and Louise’s Island.
The small buildings on the Island in Ødammen was built by Frederick 7. as a miniature version of a Norwegian manor.
I went out through the village Gadevang, and soon I was on the way up towards the mountain, Fruebjerg, inside the forest. The sun was setting and the sight towards the coast was magnificent. I love this view. I hurried down the mountain and trough the forest to the train station.
I had to wait 10 minutes. I can not remember the last time I’ve been so cool. Well, maybe when I skated as a child 🙂

Curious to learn more? Frederiksborg Castle


‘Sommeren var dejlig, og en let brise gjorde vandreturen behagelig for min veninde og mig. Vi har et højt stofskifte, ligesom en hobbit, og vi nåede ikke langt, før vi indtog vores første måltid på en bænk i parken ved Frederiksborg Slot.’

I dag er temperaturen anderledes for nu at sige det mildt. Der er frost i luften og hård vind, men solen skinner. Jeg er iført lag på lag indtil der ikke er mere plads under min jakke.
Alligevel tager jeg en kort pause på en bænk ved siden af Athene.

Min tur er cirka 15 km lang, og jeg har ikke meget tid, før mørket indfinder sig.
Jeg har købt vand i en kiosk, men jeg kan ikke åbne flasken. Mine fingre er allerede stivfrosne. Jeg pakker flasken ned i rygsækken, og fortsætter turen forbi det spektakulære lille slot, Badstuen og Louises Ø.
De små bygninger på øen i Ødammen blev bygget af Frederik den 7. som en miniature udgave af en norsk herregård.
Jeg går ud gennem landsbyen Gadevang, og snart er jeg på vej op mod Fruebjerg, inde i skoven. Solen er ved at gå ned, og synet mod kysten er storslået. Det er højdepunktet på turen bogstavelig talt, og i overført betydning. Min vandretur fortsætter i hast mod togstationen, Kagerup.

Her må jeg måtte vente i 10 minutter. Jeg kan ikke huske hvornår jeg har været så nedkølet. Jo, måske dengang, da jeg løb på skøjter som barn 🙂

Frederiksborg Slot

My Rescuer was a Ghost

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.

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.

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 🙂

The Tavignano Gorge on Corsica

We called it the Rain Valley, the Tavignano Gorge.
One day we drove through Corte, Corsica’s former capital and passed a view to a beautiful looking valley.

From the car I could see a path winding its way in the mountainside. The valley was sparkling green and beautiful. That kind of sights inspires me and as soon as we got back to our base I began to study our maps.
Next day we found our way into the wilderness and the Tavignano Gorge was spectacular lushly.

I was reminded of the Tavignano Gorge when McEff published the post from Andalusia: Chasing the Storm.  A walk or some might call it a climb between the towns of Lanjarón and Órgiva. There are pictures in that post where you can see a trail, the GR 7 cuts across the cliffs of the gorge. I think our trail was paved, compared with the Andalucian GR7 trail.

Vi kaldte kløften for regnvejrsdalen, theTavignano Gorge.
En dag, da vi kørte gennem Corte, Korsikas tidligere hovedstad, passerede vi en meget smuk udsigt til en dal inde mellem bjergene.

Jeg fik øje på en sti, der snoede sig vej inde på den frodige bjergside. Sådanne syn inspirerer mig, og så snart vi kom tilbage til vores base begyndte jeg at studere vores kort.
Næste dag fandt vi vejen ind i Tavignano kløften, der var spektakulær frodig.


You can see more details in Walks on Corsica: 70 Selected Walks on the Coasts and in the Mountains of the “Island of Beauty” by Klaus Wolfsperger

The Tavignano Gorge is worth a visit even when it rains!!! Quote by me 🙂

The temperature is approaching freezing point, the sun is going down, and I’m in the middle of the forest, but where?

Rain gusts had subsided over noon. I can make it before darkness, I thought, as I sat in the train on my way to the forest, Gribskov.
When I walked into the shadows among the trees, the sun was low in the sky, and I decided a short cut down to the well and the horses. A few minutes later, I stood in front of a ‘mountain’ of fallen trees on the small path which was impossible to pass.

Huge trees were broken in the storm and shattered in the fall. Spruces, pines and apparently healthy beech trees lay helter-skelter. It was a sight that surprised me. What an Armageddon when the old giants succumbed. Earth must have trembled as they fell.
I went back down the path, and had a small detour to approach the well. There were no horses, the water ran out among the stones at the bottom of the well.
The hike would be without drinking and without a map.

I forgot the map in my bustle. Who needs a map here, I thought?
Well it turned out that a map would actually have been a great help. The landscape had changed. There were clearings, where before there were woods. And lakes, where before there were meadows. Dark forest roads had changed appearance because fallen trees did room for the sunlight.

A wider forest track enticed me with sunlight, but at the same time I knew that this direction would increase the length of the route. Reluctantly I went back when the desired side road didn’t materialize.

My second choice was better suited. Still, I felt uncomfortable. The cold crept up on me, and a long walk in the silent forest would be an exciting adventure, but unpleasantly dark.
My pace went up, and soon the landscape reminded me of a hike few years ago on a beautiful day when snow crystals glittered and shone in all the colours of the rainbow.

Suddenly I saw hills further up the road and I recognize the landscape again. The mist hid in hollows, the last sunlight set fire to the top of the fir trees and the horses came curiously closer to greet. To increase my excitement ravens flew over my head as to greet me as well.

From the forest guard house sounded cackling, and soon chickens and Muscovy ducks came running down the road. The hens disappeared between the horses’ legs as if they had to test their limits. Quicker than lightning they disappeared up the hill again.

I wonder if they do that every night? Run down the road to get an adrenaline rush and to tease the horses.

The rest of the way to the station was almost without problems. I had some doubt for a moment, but relied on my sense of direction, and soon I saw the station building appeared between the trees.

What a great hike this has been. I’m just as AD-hungry as the chickens at the forest guard house 🙂

Julemand ved Grønnekilde

Ulvedalene, Gribskov
Ved Kagerup station, Gribskov

Happy Hiking ❤ …and remember all your meals 🙂

Solen skinnede for første gang i lang tid, og en vandring langs havnebassinerne i København fristede endnu engang. Der, hvor der var læ, sad folk og nød solen.

Jeg gik ud på Kalvebod Bølge, et helt enestående badeanlæg med ‘gangbroer’ ude i havnen.

Overfor Kalvebod Bølge ligger Københavns Havnebad Islands Brygge. Der var besøgende i havnebadet, i badetøj naturligvis. Jeg tror, vandet var varmere end luften, for vinden var iskold. På kanten af et bassin stod der Las Palmas! Det eneste vi mangler er palmer.

Hørte jeg nogen tale om vikinger? Det er meget passende, fordi det snart er vintersolhverv. Om 10 dage, den 22. december kl. 5.48. Efter vintersolhverv bliver dagene længere, og  lyset vender tilbage.

“Vintersolhverv er en glædens dag, fordi den er symbolet på lysets tilbagevenden i vort liv. Vintersolhverv er vikingernes jul, hvor de ikke fejrede men drak jól og havde midvinterblót, en ofring for at sikre frugtbarhed.” Vintersolhverv

Jeg glæder mig, og jeg har tænkt mig at fejre dagen i naturen. Måske skinner solen også den dag 🙂

God tur i solen i morgen ❤

Havnebadet Islands Brygge

Kalvebod Bølge

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