Dag/day 1: Korsør-Vesterlyng
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Erstellt am 18.05.2020
Gesamtlänge in km
Durchschn. Steigung Aufstieg %
Durchschnittsgeschwindigkeit in km/Std.
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durch Ottocolor am 18.05.2020
Trackpoint-Dichte per km
Korsør, Region Zealand, DK (10 m NHN)
Havnsø, Region Zealand, DK (12 m NHN)
Warm (17-18°C) and fairly sunny. Weak to light winds from West and Southwest, and thus mostly tailwind.
Finally, the day of my first bike holiday of the year had come with tent, food and a lot of equipment. The background of my departure was quite special, as Denmark was still shut down during the corona crisis, as it was called. So were our neighboring countries in order to prevent a too violent pace in the spread of the new coronavirus that Europe had imported from China, where it originated in an animal market in the big city of Wuhan in December 2019. Coronavirus disease 2019, short COVID -19 became a decisive factor for the lives of all Danes and Europeans, with quite large differences from one country to another. The travel restictions meant, I had to give up my plans to travel to Poland via Sweden and cycle the third part of my long Iron Curtain odyssey. As a substitute, I planned a holiday on Zealand, in Scania and Halland (Sweden) and in Jutland. That way I could use the ferry ticket I had booked with Stena-Line from Karlskrona to Gdynia and swap it to one from Halmstad in Sweden to Grenaa in Jutland. This cycling holiday I called Kattegat south, as I, at the same time, (in my ample leisure time) started planning a later "Kattegat north" holiday. This was due to start with the Grenaa-Halmstad crossing and go north to Gothenburg and via Frederikshavn southwards throug Jutland. So, as my brother noted, I had a lot of stuff in the mold. The fact that the trip was planned to go precisely via Sweden became itsdeath. The Danish state had issued a very unique departure ban for all but worthy purposes, and of course a bicycle holiday did not constitute one. Other countries such as Poland and Germany had closed their borders to foreigners themselves, while Sweden, which in many ways chose a different approach in the fight against the corona virus, had not closed its borders. So, that way, I was, formally, free to go. The problem was the imposition of the Danish state of a quarantine period of two weeks after the return from any foreign country, and that my dear wife believed that this had to be complied with. Otherwise, I would quarantine myself for a fortnight from her. That settled the case. I had to stay in Denmark. Such was the background for this cycling holiday "around Zealand." I could use the first approx. 2.5 stages from the Kattegat-South tour and in Elsinore just cycle down the Sound coast instead of crossing it to Helsingborg. In advance, I had in the first place planned a "wilderness trip" with overnight stays "in the woods" in primitive nature camps (or in Sweden, where "all man's right" rules, even just in suitable places in nature). Both because I enjoy primitive life close to nature, but also in order to avoid (close) contact with my fellow human beings. This was the background, when I cycled to Odense station in order to take the train to Korsoer, where a week's experiences in and outside the bike saddle were to begin.
It only takes half an hour on the train from Odense on Funen to Korsoer on Zealand, cross East Funen and then over (low bridge) and under (tunnel) the Great Belt, and one is on Denmark's largest and, as it houses our country's capital, also the most important island. This last fact has, among Western Danes, given it the nickname "Devil's Island". And after Denmark's loss of the Scania lands (minus Bornholm!) to Sweden at the peace in Roskilde in 1658, Copenhagen ended up geographically well in the outskirts of Denmark. A fact that has not prevented the Copenhageners from appointing most of the rest of Denmark as just the outskirts of Denmark. Meanings do differ, and this "capitalist"i apporacht has provided a rich breeding ground for the derogative term "Copenhagenism", ie the capital's alleged robbery of attention and benefits. Well, the centralist Danish state model with no federalist incentive cannot help but bring it along. For me, who is of Souther Jutland origin and who was in Copenhagen for the first time only as a longlimbed teen, Copenhagen for many years began in Korsoer. So Zealand was equal to Copenhagen. Of course, that's nonsense. There are 108 km from Korsoer to Copenhagen and along the coast, whiere I would ride my bike, it was considerably longer.
The starting point of my cycling holiday Korsoer is best known for its large naval base and for being one of the landing points of one of the Great Belt Bridges (the suspension bridge). For the same reason, I started my arrival on Zealand by cycling out to Korsoer bridge cliff, a kind of natural viewpoint to the Eastern Bridge (suspension bridge) from a clay cliff a few kilometers west of Korsoer station. And the bridge made a nice view from the cliff on this quiet, warm and sunny day. Under the bridges landfall many anglers hoped for fish, and on the belt many boats glimpsed in the haze. But it was no more hazy than I got a fine, I think, shot of Sprogoe, the island in the middle of the Great Belt, which forms a stepstone for the Great Belt connection. It was opened in 1998 after some nine years of construction.
After the visit to the bridge, I cycled back to the station and started all over on today's stage to Vesterlyng, where I had planned the trip's only overnight stay at a regular campsite, as there was not any nature camp site in the vicinity. The weather was close to perfect up the west coast of Zealand northbound through a lot of areas with holiday cottages. When I had left the last one, at Mullerup harbor, behind me, I found a good place to have my lunch, as always "smoerrebroed" (open rye bread sandwiches) from my lunch box. It was a nature reserve called "Flasken" ("The Bottle") close to the road to the peninsula of Reersoe, which forms a bulge on the coast between Korsoer Peninsula and Asnae near Kalundborg. Reersoe separates Musholm Bay to the south from Jammerland Bay to the north into two separate Greal Belt bays. I needed lunch that much, that I had had to refill my food depots with a banana shortly before in order not to drop off my bike. After the rye bread revival, I lay in the grass on the meadow for a while and listened to the bird quirks from "The Bottle". But the noise from the cars and not least the motorcycles on the road to and from Reersoe, which was quite intense such an early Saturday afternoon in the pre-season, along with my wish not to arrive late at Vesterlyng soon got me back on my iron horse.
My goal was now clearly the town of Kalundborg, where I planned a coffee break at the city's main attraction, the five-towered Church of Our Lady. The road to Kalundborg did not feel long. On the contrary, it was "easy going" in the nice weather on small roads. A few hills, however, were to be negotiated. As I trod up one of them, two cyclists came at me in full speed the opposite way and shouted something to me that I did not grasp. The next village was called Bjerge, which means "Mountains" in Danish, so I murmured something about that no wonder, it goes uphill then. But a little later, it dawned on me that they wanted to make me aware of the sea eagle I caught notice of near the road. At first I thought it was a heron as the wingspan was huge, but then I saw the bird of prey silhouette, and was captivated. It could only be a young sea eagle with its light head. Birds of prey like high points in the landscape from which they can sail across the landscape, and this cousin clearly performed flying exercises. Shortly after, I was out on the Slagesle-Kalundborg main road, which fortunately had a nice bike lane. AnywayI left it fairly quickly and followed small roads, a small dirt path and a winding asphalt path past the southern industrial area with a power plant and an oil refinery onto Kalundborg harbour. As it is deep, it has always been important to the town, also as a ferry port previously to Juelsminde and Aarhus in Jutland, but today only to the island of Samsoe. Through small cozy lanes and cobbled alleys, I reached the church past several stone houses from the middle ages. Peace and quiet reigned at the church and I set up my gas boiler to make coffee. The Zealand' nobleman, Esbern Snare, had built the church in the 13th century as totally unique in Scandinavia with a floor plan formed as a Greek cross with a tower in the middle and one at the end of each cross arm. The inspiration came from as far away as Armenia. It is unknown how Esbern Snare found inspiration from here, but Kalundborg certainly owns something unique and beautiful with it. The church itself was closed due to the corona crisis, but the pastor had placed plastic-coated posters with prayers in the garden around it so that worshippers could pray there. I read some of them and enjoyed the peace and quiet before packing.
My first task was now to shop for dinner, breakfast and lunch the next day, which I did in Foetex shortly after. Next was an uninteresting stretch along the main road towards Holbaek and Copenhagen, but on a bike lane. But soon I turned left through the funnily situated summer cottage area of Kaldred. It must attract people who do not care about beaches and water, because this is not to be found nearby. After the village of Eskebjerg, which also had not got its name in vain, as I breathlessly noticed, I rode down towards the flat meadow with dry parts called Lyngen facing towards Sejeroe bay. Here I also found my goal of the day in Vesterlyng Camping, and around half past six I arrived there. After checking in and the friendly reception by the owners, who were also from Odense (!), I enjoyed a Green Tuborg outside the reception. Ah, what a pleasure in the sun and warmth, whiere children played and adults walked around. The camp site was well visited and I found a spot for my tent on the outskirts down to the open meadow. I saw a table-bench set where a couple of families had dinner. While I pitched my tent and had a shower, they were done and I was able to take over the table for preparing and taking in a dish of pasta carbonara washed down with Beck's beer from Bremen, Germany. The last program point of the day was a walk down to the beach through Lyngen. I could use the back entrance of the campsite, which was open. I was delighted that the camp owners had not closed it out of fear for people sneaking in without checking in through the front desk. Not even a sign of "access only for campers" or the like was to be seen. It was a nice walk at dusk, leaving the asphalt road a few times and venturing out into the meadow. But some wet stretches made me go back to the road. Towards the beach it was drier and I saw heather with juniper bushes. In the car park shortly before the beach two motorhomes were camping "black". All right for me. Standing at the water's edge on the fine sandy beach, I decided to cycle down here tomorrow morning for a morning dip. With that on my mind I trudged back, had another can of beer and slipped into my sleeping bag. The cycling holiday was under way and in the most comfortable and untroubled way.