On the second thursday after I arrived it was time for a much anticipated but what turned out to be rather ill-fated and abbreviated trip to Sweden. My plan was always to go as early in the year as I could hoping for the best weather as the summer faded. So, after riding the motorway from Funen to just short of Copenhagen,

I made it over the water to Sweden on the ferry from Helinsor to Helinsborg (I think I have that the right way round). I had a recommendation to look around Denmark’s modern art and architecture gallery Louisiana in its stunny (what an accidental neoligism) location by the coast, about two miles from the ferry port. Its Scandinavian and Nordic buildings prepared me for moving over into a subtly different country. It was easy to pay at the ferry kisok and ride on to the boat, and linger on the car deck with the bike for the short 20 minute crossing, so calm you had no sense you were on water. On the boat just parked in front of me was a wiry old German riding a BMW GS100 (the ancestor of my bike) which he said had taken him all over Europe from the northern most tip of Norway to the very south of Sicily with over 100,000 k on the clock. He said he was attached to it and I can see why. The bike looked as weathered as he did.

He admired my rather newer and more shiny bike but I suddenly felt a bit ashamed of all the gizmos attached in the face of his highly appropriate workhorse. He said that he wasn’t strong enough any more to pick his bike up if he were to drop it. He was a real sweetie, off to stay with a friend in a cottage somewhere in Sweden. I don’t spend a lot of time with motorcyclists but these moments are gems.

Helsingor was an attractive town, my GPS took me through the centre, while all the other trafic seemed to peel off on a bypass.

The campsite I chose, Norvikkens, is just over the road from the sea. On the map it looks beautifully placed and I made a point of heading for it.

While the sun is still shining it is beautiful but there are some heavy clouds and they say tomorrow it will rain. My entry here did not get off to a good start. The helpful young guy opened the barrier to let me in but it is not set up for motorcycles and came immediately crashing down on the back of my bike knocking me and the bike into an extremely solid and unfortunately placed metal signboard, sending me flying and bending the bar at the front of the bike that the windscreen is screwed to as it crunched into the metal. A couple of Swedes came over and helped me, asking me if I was OK. It was very sweet and offering to lend me tools to fix the damage. After putting up the tent (I was told exactly where I had to put it - on a small grass area in front of the washrooms, all the other spaces being kept for caravans and motorhomes) I got my trusty tool kit out and, with still rather shakey hands, tried to straighten things up but to no avail, with nuts and bolts dropping everywhere. I managed to unfix the windshield which was at a jaunty 45 degree angle. It should get me through the next few days. Luckily nothing more expensive or show-stopping was damaged. Someone staying here told me that the same thing nearly happened to a woman on a motorcycle yesterday but she just made it through.

This campsite has great wifi – which is about the only solace. It started raining that night and rained with possibly only a couple of short breaks for the whole next day and most of the next night. I felt forced to stay put and pay for an extra day. Despite not liking the site much (when will I learn to avoid these places that are crammed full of retired people in big white caravans and mobile homes?) I spent the day reading Hisham Matar’s Anatomy of a disappearance in the kitchen, the only warm place around, apart from the showers. I must say the weather, the event with the barrier and the demographic of the site (not to mention an upset stomach that propelled me out of the tent at 7 in the mornings) meant that my morale drained through my boots. Lying under canvas turned into the most pointless event... I had made another mistake which was not taking the trouble to find and stop at a shop to buy some food to cook, so relied on my Travelunch dehydrated dinner.

click here for the next installment where the sun comes out and things start to look up