Unspoken Silence

The morning with the Canadian feels very special. After having enjoyable conversations yesterday, now there is an unspoken silence. Not because we have nothing to say, not because we’re not interested in each other, but because silence is the language. Rarely have I felt this comfortable with someone.

Synchronicity

Everything is happening in sync. We wake up at the same time. We brew coffee at the same time. We have breakfast at the same time. Without any arrangement, without exchanging a word. Our gazes only cross each other occasionally.

Even packing happens in sync. Carefully, everything we have is placed one by one in its proper spot, just as we practically planned it. I let myself be carried away by that rhythm and also set off on time. That feels good too.

Hours in the Playground

Not long after, I arrive at a playground. I plan to sit down for a second round of coffee, but eventually, I stay there for hours. I write and observe the people who pass by. A group of older people having a great time at the biggest table and many children playing on the play equipment; all very simple, made of wood and without bells and whistles.

I notice that play equipment here is much simpler than in the Netherlands and that rubber tiles won’t have a large market here. The most popular play structure? A fallen tree with branches. Isn’t that wonderful?

Food Tip

Only around three o’clock do I carry on. In the meantime, I’ve practically emptied my supplies with the craziest combinations because I had wanted to go grocery shopping long ago. My latest invention, crackers with cheese, turns out to be a recommendation.

I want the coast

The route goes back inland, something I don’t quite understand. The coast was so incredibly beautiful and there’s a bike path right along the sea where I could have walked perfectly. Unfortunately, I didn’t pay attention to how the route continued; otherwise, I probably would have adjusted it.

What follows are kilometers and kilometers of fields with barley, wheat, rye, wilted rapeseed, potatoes, and then again wheat, rye, and oats. It feels endless. Occasionally a farm appears, quite a few windmills, and sporadically a church. I find it boring and I’m frustrated. I want to return to the coast!

Later, I read that Denmark is the most cultivated country in the world, with the least amount of wild nature. And indeed, you can see that. And how.

Shelter with blackout curtain

Despite my long stay in the playground, I still walk 22 kilometers until I arrive at the shelter in the village of Manna. It is right by the road and you can look in from the road, but to prevent that, the shelter can be closed off with a blackout curtain. Perfect. It will be dark sleeping.

Accommodation: Manna/Thise