The past few days have been rather uneventful as we’ve driven straight through Northern Germany towards Scandinavia. It got as exciting as Craig and I finding baked beans for the first time on this roadtrip. After being deprived of them for over a month, I was practically doing the conga up and down the aisles.
We’ve booked a ferry from Hirtshals in Denmark to Langesund in Norway, it was only €48 and gets us right into the swing of things in Norway. I did want to drive the whole route via the famous Oresund bridge and through Sweden, but it was over 1000km of driving and rather bleak scenery from what I’ve heard. We stocked up before expensive Norway with half a trolly of food and spent a while just looking back and forth from the trolly to Pablo, wondering where it was all going to go.
The suns left us, and been swapped with rain and blustery wind, so now it feels more like an English summer. It’s quite nice being able to wrap up in the duvet again but we’re not having any chances to heat our solar shower and once again my legs are in desperate need of a shave, their at the stage of overgrown grass; too long for the lawn mower that you need to give it a once over with the strimmer first.
Thankfully we have discovered a genius way to heat the shower, which we should probably trademark. It all came about on a day when we were driving, so not many options to leave the shower on the roof, and it wasn’t very sunny. Much to my reluctance due to fear of spillages and blowing out all the electric components of Pablo – we put the half full solar bag on the dash board as it is a sun magnet. But wait, it gets better – we turned the heaters on!! Yup, for about 4 hours we had the dash heater on – pulled over in a discreet country road and had a hot shower which felt ice cold in the blustery air.
We were selected among other cars for interrogation at the boarder. We felt like criminals, not worried about drugs, clearly, but for all the fruit and veg we just bought being confiscated. Craig and I were thinking up excuses if they asked what we had in the back, “shit!! Just pretend we don’t understand what their saying and give them an Indian head wobble”. A stocky blonde lady approached us and spoke in perfect English (bugger!!) asking to see Craigs drivers license, where we were going and for how long. As she was speaking to Craig I noticed another cop wondering around with a sniffer dog, thank god for that, their after the hardcore drug smugglers, not Brits with plums and onions.
We decided to take the west coast of Jutland in Denmark as it looked scenic with thin strips of land between ocean and lakes. What a joy it is driving here; past patchwork quilt fields, the roads are as flat as a pancake with a shimmering heat haze mirage in the distance. A short stumble and many jumps up and down the expanse of sand dunes led us to the rough grey ocean, as close to the UK as we’ll get for a while.
We’ve passed more rest areas than you could shake a stick at – and they even have pit loos! I have a love hate relationship with pit loos; they stink, you can see what the last person ate for lunch, and I’m forever scared that an animal is lurkin below waiting to attack. But, they’re very eco friendly, and we didn’t see any in Germany; the amount of parking areas on minor roads near hikes etc just calling out for a pit loo but instead turned into a mine site of turds and toilet paper bombs.