No bike lane. Not comfortable strolling Tosca and I attached to each other. A little risky. Finally off the road
Copy of last picture Looks like an old train- or tram way Jutland is mainly undulating/hilly
Almost at destination Hadsund Hadsund across the water. That’s where the camping must be.
Tonights shelter 
With a bike of the camping I go to Hadsund center for diner and to internet
Well, now I’m already in Hadsund and I have to think hard where I was again this morning: Randers, but the letter d is not pronounced. Unimportant detail that I learned of the campsite proprietor of this evening, although she was originally Swiss. More on that later.
Like the previous days, the choice between the fastest (33km!), or the nicest way, the latter being much longer. Hup, the fastest. Well, that made me think. The largest part of the route, I had to walk on the road. Sometimes there was a guardrail and then you could not swerve. Freight trucks with thundering noise and frightening speed race half a meter past me. If I get out of balance for a moment, or Tosca makes an unexpected move, then we’re both screwed. Since we’re stuck to each other a collision of one inevitably also strikes the other one. Not really pleasant walking, though we made it after all. See pictures. Only a guy seems to be more unpleasant, because one gets used to everything, except to a guy, according to a Dutch woman author. Only now I understand how heavy life must be for all those married females. In the coffee shack the same questions like always, so also my standard answers. As I walked out I heard the buffet lady still discussing my “case” with two other guests. In a gas station a coffee, some pastries, chocolate and I felt like a prince again. 33 Km. Quite something, but compared to yesterday’s 40 km. only a breeze. I also left at ease, viz. at 10 am only. Tosca had slept under an unused stairway , in the back of the building, on a mat that I had given her.
Thankfully the last 7 km. today were very beautiful. It seemed an old railway line. I did some filming, made a few photos and Tosca could make herself filthy in the ponds and marshes. Let’s hope she’ll be dry again, in case she’ll have to sleep in the tent with me, the zjwartpetaar (= drekskiebel = pervert).
Because of the traffic I had no time to think. Watching out constantly. Well, I think, I constantly am like a displaced person, each time again getting to another unfamiliar place where you make your bed, ever again unknown, strange inscriptions. Are you traveling with a family, like gypsies in earlier times, that was your home, your harbor, but all alone one is really nothing in this world. No one to offer something, no one is waiting for you. You realize your nothingness, insignificance. Such a journey puts things into persective. That is one of the merits of the journey.
At 1 minute to 6 I enter the campsite reception. One minute before closing time. Then of course I still have to put up my tent, but it’s good to check if there are better options for less money. Yes, we also rent rooms, but the dog is not allowed in there. Oh, are you Dutchman. I’ve lived in Friesland for 2 years. Why so? There ensued a whole conversation, but to start with the result: I got a caravan. I believe the owner wanted to get rid of it, because he had bought another one or something. One big mess, all stinking “piepezjwaam” (pipe smoke). Even cheaper than a tent. Ha, ha, that’s how it should be, especially now that they have reported possible frost. Mattress and blankets were available. Perfect. Only, no Internet. No problem. Just looking for a place in Hadsund. The caretaker lends me her bike and I go to the local cultural center. There is a library with internet access, a Danish restaurant (read Turkish Italian or vice versa, usually with a Danish blonde in operation), and I fixed it all again.
Anyway, now about the caretaker at the front desk. Actually, I’m Swiss, she told me confidentially. I ask, how did you get to Friesland and now here? She had a child at her 20th. Found shelter at a aquainted Swiss lady’s, who was married to a Dutchman in Friesland . From her 16th she wanted to work on a boat, but everyone declared her crazy. I had to smile, was reminded of the song “daar was laatst een meisje loos, Die wou gaan varen (bis) “there once was a girl, who wanted to sail like a sailor (2x),” etc. That working on a boat was possible in Denmark. What has happened to the baby I didn’t ask any more. And now, well into her 50th, if not more, she lives here on this site, as caretaker. I think Switzerland is beautiful, I said. After my retirement, she said, I want to live half the time in Switzerland and the other half here, if possible. She was still talking about ideals, making dreams come true etc. I do not want to blame myself in the future, she said, that I have not tried to fulfill my earlier dreams. I again: you can not realize all the dreams. Well, this and other matters we discussed. Good food for thoughts. Continuing in the pipeline of education at grammar school or gymnasium, studying medicine or something else, like your parents expect you to, or on the contrary living in dreamland. As Leonard Cohen sings: picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skys. After a certain age, a certain line in life may develop and that line keeps growing toward some result, I always thought, but some have other views on this topic. Interesting.
answers. As I walked out I heard the buffet lady still discussing my “case” with two other guests. In a gas station a coffee, some pastries, chocolate and I felt like a prince again. 33 Km. Quite something, but compared to yesterday’s 40 km. only a breeze. I also left at ease, viz. at 10 am only. Tosca had slept under an unused stairway , back in the building, on a mat that I had given her.
Thankfully the last 7 km. today very beautiful. It seemed an old railway line. I did some filming, made a few photos and Tosca could make herself filthy in the ponds and marshes. Let’s hope she’ll be dry again, in case she’ll have to sleep in the tent with me, the zjwartpetaar (= drekskiebel = pervert).
Because of the traffic no time to think. Watching out constantly. Well, I think, I am are constantly displaced, each time again getting to another unfamiliar place where you store your army, ever again unknown, strange inscriptions. Are you traveling with a family, such as gypsies earlier, that was your home, your harbor, but alone one is really nothing in this world. No one to offer something, no one is waiting for you. . Oh, you’re Dutch. I’ve lived in Friesland 2 years. Why that? There ensued a whole conversation, but to start with the result: I got a caravan. I believe the owner wanted to get rid of it, because he had bought another one or something. One big mess, all stinking “piepezjwaam” (pipe). Even cheaper than a tent. Ha, ha, that’s how it should be, especially now that they have reported possible frost. Mattress and blankets were available. Perfect. Only, no Internet. No problem. Just looking for a place in Hadsund. The caretaker lends me her bike and I go to the local cultural center. There is a library with internet access, a Danish restaurant (read Turkish Italian or vice versa, usually with a Danish blonde in operation), and I fixed it all again.
Anyway, now about the caretaker at the front desk. Actually, I’m Swiss, she told me confidentially. I ask, how did you get to Friesland and now here here? She had a child on her 20th. Found shelter at a known Swiss, who was married to a Dutchman in Friesland . From her 16th she wanted to work on a boat, but everyone declared her crazy. I had to smile, was reminded of the song “daar eas laatst een meisje loos, Die wou gaan varen (bis) “there once was a girl, who wanted to sail like a sailor (2x),” etc. That working on a boat was possible in Denmark. What happened to the baby I didn’t ask any more. And now, well into the 50th, if not more, she lives here on this site, as caretaker. I think Switzerland is beautiful, I said. After my retirement, she said, I want to live half the time in Switzerland and the other half here, if possible. She was still talking about ideals, making dreams come true etc. I do not want to blame myself in the future, she said, that I have not tried to fulfill my earlier dreams. I again: you can not realize all the dreams. Well, this and other matters we discussed. Good food for thoughts. Continueing in the pipeline of education at grammar school or gymnasium, studying medicine or something else, like your parents expect you to, or living in dreamland. As Leonard Cohen sings: picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skys. After a certain age, a certain line may develop and that line keeps growing to some result, I always thought, but some have other views on this topic. Interesting.
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