And so to the conclusion! Having left Odense in the last post, I was now on my way to Aalborg, one of, if not the, northernmost cities in Denmark. I’ll spare you the woes of engineering works and rail replacement buses and unexpected extra changes. I won’t spare you spending the last hour watching Mission Impossible 2 in my head while listening to the audio from a fellow passenger’s laptop (I couldn’t see the screen but I know that movie inside out).
So here I am in Aalborg. It had been a long day and I retreated to my room. Near the station and easy to find, as always. And it was wonky. After a long day on the move, having a wonky floor made me feel so seasick that I had to put a bottle down to check it really did roll away.
In the morning, I was ready to explore Denmark’s north coast. Cue more rail woes but eventually I reached Frederikshavn, where I had time between trains to see the Arctic research vessel RRS Ernest Shackleton in port. A part of me would love an adventure on a ship like that. A bigger part of me runs from the possibility of seasickness and the biggest part of me runs screaming from the almost-certainty of someone else’s seasickness. It’s still a very cool ship to suddenly encounter in the wild.
From here I took a private train to Skagen – and by private I mean that this route isn’t part of the national rail network rather than “I got my very own train with no one else on it”. It’s a very typical European electric local train, of the kind you’ll get between “haystacks” in just about any country except the UK. We passed huge sand dunes – up here, they’re a bit of a menace because they walk and a particularly big one is scheduled to block the railway pretty soon. But I got to Skagen without incident.
It’s a seaside town prone to a uniquely yellow light, which makes it popular with artists. 2020 Juliet would have therefore stopped to draw something and probably flood it with yellow paint later. It never occurred to 2012 Juliet who was heading for the beach.
My goal was Grenen, and specifically that point where the North Sea meets the Baltic, although Denmark uses the more specific seas Skagerrak (the strait between Norway & Denmark) and Kattegat (the “sea area” between Sweden & Denmark). It’s mile after mile of pale golden sand bordered by the sort of snake-harbouring scrubby grass that grows on dunes. Yes, I saw a snake. Yes, I shrieked and ran away. Yes, I remember it being ten feet long and as thick as my arm and yes, I accept that in real life it was probably both tiny and terrified of me.
I stuck to the sand after that. This bit of beach has hundreds of little bite-shaped bays, little rock-lined round pools cutting into the coast. Ideal for paddling or rockpooling, if only I’d brought my sandals instead of my boots. It was so pretty and so warm and going to the beach had absolutely been the right idea.
The tip of the peninsula was… well, I didn’t see the dramatic meeting of two seas, as everything from the Atlantic to the Baltic is one continuous body of water and the separating of seas is merely about names and territories. But it was interesting to see a kind of triangular beach. I’m mostly used to straight beaches, often with a cliff or headland to separate them from a neighbouring one pointed at a different angle.
Walking back was a slightly different matter. I hate walking on sand and it was further than I’d realised during my appreciation of the scenery on the way up. Some sandals for my tired feet would have been even more appreciated by now.
That evening, I went to the cinema opposite my hotel. I’d seen so many posters for Snow White and the Huntsman across Denmark but this was 2012. This was Avengers year and while I liked the idea of seeing it again, I really liked the idea of seeing Thor and Loki battle it out in a Scandinavian language. It didn’t matter if I didn’t understand much of the Danish. I’d already seen it more than once. I knew what was happening. In Copenhagen I’d seen Norse mythology in the form of Gefion’s fountain and I’d seen it on drain covers in Odense. Now I saw it in the form of a Hollywood blockbuster.
So that was my last evening. I wandered Aalborg with my full backpack on my last morning. I found some pretty streets and buildings and the seafront – and a pool built into the side of the harbour – but honestly, Aalborg made very little impression on me. In fact, over eight years on, I still have to check its name on a map because I can’t remember if it was Aalborg or Aarhus. Those 48 hours were all about the northern shore, not the city, for me.
One thing that was interesting and Aalborg-specific, though. I got to the airport and was treated to a display from what I assumed to be Baby Blue, the Danish equivalent to the Red Arrows. I assume also that this was a practice rather than a real aerial display, since no one else seemed to be watching them. And then I got on a non-aerobatic passenger jet and flew home.