Very isolated cat pension. No problems with neighbours
Fjaellebro bridge 
Lunch break on logs in a forest 
Everywhere signs warning for being hit by a wind mill’s arm. Is one arm broken?
Many more Ice period stones than in the Nl. Probably here was more ice
Walking with your house on your back. My house is my castle. Tent is too small for all my luggage. Backpack under plastic cover
Meeting Ad Hendriksen from Maaseik (B) on his way to Stavanger (Norway) by bike 
Discussing our enterprises in a bus shed because of the cold wind
Wood sculptures are popular here 
Many primula vera in the road side. Rare in the Nl.
Freshly painted farm houses
Nice little villages
With Tosca in the tent. For those who read this now for the first time, Tosca is my bitch, so my dog. It was cloudy, so quite cold and there was a cold East wind). Whats cool. The tent is a one person’s tent, slim like a mummy, but in the middle slightly wider, for people who have an apple or pear shape. There in the middle is Tosca’s nest, or rather, I force her. That’s nice and warm against my waist, but halfway the night the rest of my torso was getting too cold. So, except for the day time clothes that I had been wearing, I also took my red fleece jacket. That helped. Tosca kept quiet and I made it up to just before the alarm clock at 7 am. Not having to pack a wet towel I showered in the way that I developed in Spain, viz. touching my wet body with toilet paper and then the last bits even with the towel. Fortunately this shower had a hand drying blower. Thgat what blows dry hands also blows dry the rest of a man. And because no one of the few guests at the camp was awake yet, I accepted the risk that someone entered. In this case men among men, just like in military service, where finally the older ones among us have become real men??? Without military service in the Netherlands will young people than ever become real men? Qui sas. Next still drying my towel under the blower, drying the tent here and on the road (3x) again. Music number of the 60-ies. I was wondering: 30 km, with a few kilos more than usual because of all the food for Tosca and me.
Despite the extra weight, a lot of walking on asphalt and no more tape at my feet, I ran like a road runner. Beautiful weather, clear blue skies, only the cold wind, but as long as one moves this is not a problem. I was surprised by the large amount of real primroses, primula vera in the verges of the road. Still plenty March violets, also many daffodils and hyacinths, flowering blackthorn. The first hour I found boring, on the road, sometimes on a bicycle path, sometimes much traffic, some parts hardly anybody. Now I don’t follow the Ochsen or Haerweg any more. That follows the watershed, through the middle of the country. The inns were at too small daily distances, so it doesn’t hurry up. I decided to go along the east coast of Jutland. There are quite a few camping sites, which is very cheap, and I like to see the sea occasionally. At this route, I’ll be two days earlier in Frederikshavn in Denmark N, from where I’ll take the boat to Oslo, Norway’s capital, around May 3rd. I am looking forward to Norway, because I HOPE that, with a key from the Norwegian mountain sports club, of which I’ve become a member, I can visit all of their cabins. That key fits all their cabin front doors. Only I still need to buy that key at the head office in Oslo. This trip is, or rather it stays cool!
Today I ordered some advertising material for Mama Alice. I want to put Mama Alice with clear letters on my cap and on my backpack. I got a few fun text messages. Those were my contacts again for today. No, social contacts seem not to be a first preoccupation around here. I also notice that one no longer is being greeted here, such as in the N-German countryside. Coincidence, or mentality? Along the way a few pictures of brightly painted houses.
It was a little quiet until …. Ad catches me up with his bike. Who the hell is Alice? Ad, in this case. Ad, a 60 y. old youngster, but you wouldn’t think he is (he reads this too, that’s why) stops and asks where are you going? I told Ad. I ask in my turn, how about you? Where do you come from? Amsterdam, but I live near Maaseik, Belgium, Limburg. Then why are we speaking English? Ha, ha, reminiscent of the joke that I have told before. Hey, then you are the doctor, who etc. How do you know? Let’s meet on top of this hill, a couple hundred meters ahead and wait for each other, or rather, he waiting for me. Because of the cold wind we choose as a conference center a glass bus shelter in the sun. Ad wants to sit down. Turns out the metal stool was broken and Ad falls with all his muscles against a metal pole. Holadeladio, no sinecure. But dibs as he is, he continues on his way, by bike, to a friend in Stavanger. Stopped working recently. Why do you do this? Probably the same “Wanderlust” (roaming wish) as I have. You’re young and eager. He simply calls in to people, asking whether he may put the tent in their yard. Often he can still sleep inside and even share in eating. In the absence of candy we eat my two croissants and off we go.
Picnic in the field. At 5 pm. at camping Kolding. Blog, route for tomorrow, finding food and trying to go to bed early, at 9 pm if possible. For the bad sleeping, I can only make up with very long hours of rest.
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