Day 22: Göteborg - Fredrikshavn - Øster Hurup | 85km
20 June 2026
The alarm went off at 7 am on Midsummer Day, a time that likely resonates with any Swede reading this. It’s usually just a few hours after the celebrations end, at least for those under 30. After a week off the bike at home, I was itching to get going again, and this time, I wasn’t alone. Irene and I had booked the ferry from Gothenburg to Fredrikshavn in Denmark at 9 am. As I’m always a bit too optimistic about time, we almost missed it and were, in fact, the last two passengers onboard.
The journey across the Kattegat took a little over three hours, so by the time we arrived in the fourth country of my journey, it was already lunchtime. We cycled 15km or so before stopping at a Venezuelan restaurant for arepas stuffed with beef and chicken. It was a first for both of us, but the food was delicious and the perfect fuel for the rest of the ride.
Today’s relatively short ride of 85km felt like a gentle reintroduction to the rhythm of the road. During my week off, I had tinkered with the bike, installed a new chain, and deep cleaned every part. The mud-free joints and shiny silver chain glided effortlessly over Denmark’s flat tarmac, making every pedal stroke feel like a joy.
I hadn’t been to this part of Denmark since I was a young child, so my memories were vague, but I was immediately struck by the beauty of the landscape. Our entire ride followed the coastline, and it was breathtaking. Endless stretches of white sand, rolling dunes, and golden fields dotted with grazing cattle and horses stretched as far as the eye could see. The only thing that occasionally pulled my attention away from the lush, blooming nature was the architecture. Danes are renowned for their design, and it was easy to see why. Whether modern or centuries old, every house we passed along the coast seemed to be built with purpose and an eye for detail.
With long hours in the saddle, I often find myself paying closer attention to the architecture of the places I pass through. The east coast of northern Denmark has quickly become my favorite so far. Coming from the other side of this narrow sea, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy for the landscape here. Don’t get me wrong, the west coast of Sweden is stunning, but there was something magical about this place. The light, airy forests, the trees lining the roads like natural canopies shielding us from the afternoon sun, and the lush meadows bursting with wildflowers and teeming with wildlife all felt like scenes plucked from a Tolkien novel (Lord of the Rings, I suppose, since it’s the only one I know).
By 7 pm, we rolled into a campground tucked along the dunes right by the beach. Since wild camping isn’t allowed here, and because I wanted to ease back into the routine with a bit more comfort, we’ve decided to stay at campgrounds and hotels for the first few days back on the road. The perks are hard to beat: freely flowing water and showers feel even more luxurious now that summer has truly arrived in Scandinavia. And setting up the tent on a flat patch of well-kept grass, without the usual hunt for the perfect spot, was a small but welcome luxury.