2021 summer excursion

It’s called ‘The sunshine island,’ Bornholm. Located in the Baltic Sea, closer to Swedish, Polish, and German shores than to any other part of Denmark, the diamond-shaped, 588 km²-big island is like a country all to itself. With its dramatic rocks and cliffs, its famous smoked herring and handicrafts, its white round churches and medieval castle ruin dramatically perched on top of steep, rolling hills, and the tropics-like wide, white beach framing its south-facing shores … it stands out from the rest of the country as a very exotic place.

My parents, brother, and I all went there for 7th grade camp, as is custom for Danish schools. My mum still remembers the hostel that her class stayed at. My brother and my dad remember sights and historic facts. All I remember from my trip is a deep, excruciating homesickness … I’d shuffle around with a painful pit in my stomach and call my parents 3-4 times a day from a payphone.

For De Gæ Nok’s 2021 summer excursion, we revisited Bornholm for the first time since those trips. Thus, I now had my home with me, nothing to feel sick about, and capacity to soak in all of the magic impressions that this incredible island offers. My parents took off from Juelsminde mid-July, sailing via Zealand’s north coast to Copenhagen. On 25 July, my brother, Christian, his girlfriend, Katrine, Sanoop, and I boarded. Early on Monday the 26th, we crossed through Øresund and sailed along the southern coast of Sweden to Ystad, where we moored for the night. Next day, we got up at 4am for the most breathtakingly beautiful, serene sunrise sail to Allinge in Bornholm. As it had been a while since 4 of us were last there and 2 of us had never visited before, we gave ourselves 8 days to explore the island before we embarked on the remainder of the trip — to Møn, Agersø, and Kerteminde. Christian and Katrine left Bornholm on a ferry after a week, while Sanoop and I disembarked in Kerteminde, from where we went to Copenhagen while my parent sailed the boat back to Juelsminde.

The trip flew by in what feels like a single, precious, sun-kissed moment. Picture this: hot, sunny days and long, white nights. Family time, sightseeing, and exploring. Gorgeous nature, exciting culture, friendly people. Below this map I’ll detail the trip, with photos included; a brilliant way for me to relive the experience, while hopefully serving as an entertaining read for you.

Langelinie

For a week, we lived out of the boat in Copenhagen. We were rocked to sleep in the cosy little nook that is Langelinie Marina, drank our morning tea and nightcap red wine in the cockpit, started and ended each day with a breath of fresh, salty air, brushed our teeth and showered in the shared marina facilities, and experienced the city with that whole energy as our point of departure. Quite a different feeling than visiting it via car, or stepping out into it from a hotel or flat, like we’re used to. Really lovely and holiday-like. Sanoop and I weren’t quite on holiday yet, though. We worked from cafes in town throughout the week, while my parents went sightseeing — e.g. to Louisiana up north in Humlebæk. Friday-Sunday, Sanoop and I attended our friends’ wedding at Dragsholm Slot in West Zealand — getting all dressed up on the boat, and returning home to it after the funnest, most romantic summer parties imaginable.
On Sunday evening, Christian and Katrine arrived and settled in. C&K’s cabin is below the left side of the cockpit, Sanoop’s and mine is below the right side of the cockpit, while my parents’ is located towards the front of the boat. With 6 adults onboard, De Gæ Nok is at a comfortable-to-full capacity, and it suddenly becomes very clear how important it is to respect that every single item onboard is there for a reason, with a specific purpose and a designated home. It’s a spacious boat: but it’s still a boat. Every crew member has a responsibility towards each other to be on their best, most emphatic, most patient, and friendliest behaviour. Believe in each other’s best intentions. It’s a healthy exercise for any family. It felt cosy and exciting — and as a huge privilege in a time of much distance and challenge — to be together all of us. On that first night of the trip, we had a skipper meeting and dinner at a nearby restaurant.

Copenhagen → Ystad

Katrine’s first sailing trip took us through Øresund to Ystad in Sweden. The engine assisted us for a good chunk of the way, and then we put up the sails for the final few hours. Luckily, Katrine took the experience in strides and seemed to enjoy the trip as much as everyone else.

Ystad

We arrived into the cosy marina towards evening, mooring right next to the beach. Celebrated with an ‘Anliegerbier’ (mooring beer, in German), which has become our name for any drink we might drink upon a successful mooring: gin/tonics, red wine, sodas, sparkling water … in this case, champagne.
I went for a quick swim, and then we all wandered up into the small centre of town to get something to eat. The cobbled streets were lined with quaint, brightly coloured half-timbered houses and pink hollyhocks. We found a nice tapas restaurant on the square. After dinner, Sanoop and I went snooping around a beautiful old monastery set in a sprawling orchard before joining the others back on the marina, where sailors were picnicking on wide jetties and seagulls were screaming overhead.

Ystad → Bornholm

We left Ystad at 4:30am, when the port was still quietly asleep, sailing out into a totally serene world of glassy water, pastel-coloured sky, and faraway, mist-covered coastline. When the sun broke free of the rocky southern coast of Sweden, we all felt a swell of emotion and a few tears trickling down our sleepy faces: it was so beautiful. My favourite people standing together in the cockpit of our wonderful boat, coffee cups in hand, gazes fixed on the golden horizon, while we were slowly gliding west towards the fairytale island of Bornholm. My brother even managed to turn up the volume on the atmosphere a little bit further, quite literally, by putting on the perfect soundtrack: a medley of Enya (The Lord of the Rings soundtrack), grave Viking melodies, Denmark’s girls’ choir’s classic tunes, and Anne Linnet and Alberte Winding’s summer- and morning-praising ballads.
We arrived in Allinge, a charming village on the northeastern side of Bornholm, at 9am.

Bornholm

Allinge Marina, near the northeastern tip of the island, is a small, cosy nook situated at the centre of town. Small boutiques, cafes, and art galleries are dotted along the quay. Nationally renowned artists perform at Gæsten, an open-air music venue just a few streets from the waterfront, throughout the summer season. Jazz tunes can be heard from other small venues across town. In one of the cute cobbled streets, we found a chocolate boutique whose owners run a chocolate farm in Fiji. Some local residents sold cups of freshly picked ripe mirabelle plums from stalls set up in front of their gardens. Most of the bars and restaurants in Allinge are plastered with satirical political posters: the town is perhaps most famous for its annual national political festival. The beach is a short walk to the south. A rocky nature path leads north towards the other cosy town of Sandvig and the castle ruin, Hammershus. Traditional seafood smoke houses mark the southern and northern ends of the marina. The marina itself was pretty full all of the week we were there — our seafaring neighbours had arrived from Denmark, Poland, and Sweden. Everybody seemed friendly; most were calm. One Swedish boat next to us took care of a good chunk of our daily entertainment: its crew was a festive bunch of elderly party animals, drinking heavily, singing cheerfully, dancing dramatically around their tiny cockpit (we were constantly afraid they’d fall overboard). As they caused no harm (to us nor themselves) and didn’t disturb us too much, we merely regarded them as the type of people who bring a bit of character and edge to a marina. Allinge was altogether a great starting point for exploring the island. We quickly settled into ‘island pace’, took everything pretty slowly, exploring a few bits a day, with plenty of time left to chill. The weather was fairly pleasant all week: super windy, but sunny and warm.
Each morning, I’d walk to the beach along a sandy path winding its way between patches of heather and pieces of cliffs, lined, to the right, with quaint spa hotels and half-timbered summerhouses. The light was brightly yellow. The sea, on my left-hand side, was a clear, shiny blue mixed with a luminous green from thousands of slimy bands of seaweed. Kids were playing on the rocks and in the water. A local swim club met each morning, at 7:30am, right where the path and the rocks meet a small patch of white sand; the beach. I exchanged smiles and good morning greetings with everybody, and jumped into the cool, clean water. Swam around for 10-20 minutes. Got out and dried up in the cliffs. Walked back to the marina feeling fresh. Took a quick shower in the public shower facilities. Joined my family for tea, coffee, and breakfast onboard. I’d then sit in the cockpit for a bit, enjoying the sun and reading, do some yoga on the deck, and take my SUP out for a slow paddle back and forth in the marina. You’re not really supposed to do paddle in small marinas, but when I called the harbour master to check what he thought, he said that he couldn’t tell me not to, and that it would probably be all right as long as I took care and steered clear of moving boats.
In the evenings, we’d enjoy the sunset across the water, which was miraculously colourful even on our, the eastern side of the island. We’d then get dinner: homemade tapas, barbecue, and Thai takeaway in the cockpit; Sommer, Grønbechs Hotel, and a few other local restaurants. Afterwards, we’d play card and read in the cockpit. Head over to Fabers for drinks and live music. Stroll along the pier back to the boat for a cosy night of being rocked to sleep by softly rolling waves.
Hanging in Sandvig: Daily walks to this scenic village just north of Allinge to sit on the rocks outside the heavenly ice cream parlour, Kalas, and, well, eat ice cream, swim off the delightful beach, admire and purchase ceramics from the makers’ own small studios and workshops, and feel cool and elegant while sipping cocktails and munching on olives at gorgeous Nordlandet.
Coastal walk: On the first day of the trip, we trekked around the rocky path on the northernmost tip of the island, swinging by the Opal Lake and exploring Hammershus.
Bike ride to Gudhjem: The following day, we rented electric bikes and cycled south along the scenic coast to Gudhjem, where we visited the stunning local art museum, ate the local specialty, Sol over Gudhjem, an open rye sandwich with smoked herring, chives, and a raw egg yolk (the sun) on top, and went shopping: soo many lovely, sustainability-focused Danish clothing designers have a pop-up in Bornholm in the summer, e.g. Proem Parades.
On Sunday, we attended service at one of the beautiful round churches, Østerlars. Before it started, we had coffee at a cosy cafe across the road from the church. The owners of the cafe, hearing us talk about having taken the bus to get there, quickly offered us their car for the rest of the day. As there were no cars left to rent on the island (we had checked) and we wanted to go a bit further than what was possible via bike, we accepted the kind offer. After the service, which was great, by the way, we thus set off the Echo Valley, where it’s custom to shout, “Hvad drikker Møller?” (what does Møller drink?) into into the depths of tree-clad valley, which will then respond, “Øller, øller, øller” (beers, beers, beers), and a range of quaint villages along the southeastern coast: Børshavn, Listed, and Svaneke. Towards the end of the day, we took the car back to its owners, who in turn drove us back up to Allinge, filling us in on all of the local gossip on the way.
The next day, we were back on the bus, travelling all the way down to the southernmost tip of the island to check out the most beautiful beach in the world, Dueodde Strand: incredibly white, incredibly wide, lined with tall, soft sand dunes. The bus driver’s philosophy, which we interpreted as general island philosophy, was: it’s better to be 5 minutes late, because then you know that everybody’s onboard. He told us everything there is to know about the island while driving slowly along, swinging by all of the tiniest of villages, stopping wherever people wanted to get off. It was suuuper windy on the beach: we had a magical, dramatic walk and swim.
On the final Bornholm day for now, I cycled alone to Vang, a small village situated at the bottom of the tall cliffs on northwestern side of the island. It felt very blissful. The ride in itself, through fields and forests, with no people in sight, just a few cows and birds to keep me company. And the destination was blissful, too: a charming place constituted by a neat marina and colourful houses stacked on steep hills. I sped down the hills towards the sea, feeling happy and free, trying not to think too much about what it’d be like to ride back up (I pushed my bike all the way up!). At the marina, I checked out a lovely art gallery and bought an apple juice from a nearby cafe, which I enjoyed sitting on one of the jetties with my legs hanging freely across the water. I was so tempted to jump in, but hadn’t bought a towel: the dip had to wait till I got back to Allinge.
Next time we visit Bornholm, it would be nice to check out: Paradisbakkerne, Almindingen, Rokkestenen, Christiansø, the sunset as seen from Vang, Nexø, Aarsdal, and Syd-Øst for Paradis 🙂

Bornholm → Møn

We left Bornholm before the island woke up, at 4:30am. Watched the sun rise up over Hammershus on our way across the Baltic to the white cliffs of Møn. A 12-hour trip with no wind, blue skies, plenty of time for all of us to take naps, bake in the sun, read magazines and books, learn a few things about navigating between giant tankers, listen to the comforting rustling of the waves below us, stare at the endless blue for hours, and reflect on the happy summer memories we’d gathered so far.

Møn

It felt good to be back in Klintholm: we’ve got nothing but lovely memories from our first encounter with Møn, on last year’s summer excursion.
We spent the evening dilly-dallying around the marina, getting yummy food from the street food market along the waterfront, soaking up the Bali surf camp vibes of the area, sampling tasty ripe figs from a plantation near the beach, wandering along the beach as the sun started to set, and finally settling in on the benches of the cockpit to enjoy the deep red and orange hues of the sunset with beer, coffee, and books.
Before setting sails early the next morning, we went for a morning walk on the beach, showered, and enjoyed the plantation figs on our breakfast yoghurt. Sanoop went up to the street food market to buy cortados for everyone from one of the vendors, a guy who works as a scientist in Copenhagen most of the year and runs his coffee stall down here for a few weeks each summer. Back onboard around 8am, the four of us got ourselves and the boat ready for the next leg of the journey.

Møn → Agersø

After the long engine-powered sail from Bornholm, it was lovely to once again have sufficient wind to raise the sails on our way to Agersø. We had a gorgeous sail, and Skipper taught all crew members lots of new tricks. Sanoop had his steering debut!

Agersø

Arriving late into Agersø Marina, tired and starving from all of the fresh salty air, we luckily didn’t have to worry about finding food. The island is small and doesn’t boast a lot of stores and restaurants, so our friend, who has a holiday home on the island (sadly, she wasn’t around at this time!), had contacted the one seafood bistro on the harbour and asked them to stay open late enough to greet us. And greet us the friendly bistro folks did! With the best fish cakes we’d ever tasted! In fact, those treats were so good we had to order another round!
Well-fed, we went for a short, idyllic evening walk around the one tiny town on the island.

Agersø → Kerteminde

5am is when we embarked on the, for Sanoop and me, last leg of this journey. The early sunrise sail was just as magical as the previous once we’d experienced. And this one was full of wonderful wind: the sail up through Store Bælt and under the bridge was a one to remember.

Kerteminde

Arriving late in the morning, we spent a good chunk of time drinking coffee and chilling in the cockpit, before taking showers, dressing up, and walking to the bottom of the harbour for a decadent 3-hour gourmet lunch at beautiful, iconic Rudolf Mathis. We had such a good time enjoying the food, talking, laughing. Afterwards, my mum and I went shopping in the charming small shops of Kerteminde — and then found my dad and Sanoop at a vibrant tequila bar.
In the evening, Sanoop and I went for a swim off the beautiful beach south of the harbour, and then picked up various pieces of smoked fish from the renowned seafood shack on the south-facing pier, which we took back to the boat for a light late dinner.
The only spot we had been able to moor was along the north side of the industrial harbour. As an extremely powerful wind was coming from the south that night, we were a bit worried that the boat’s side, the one that was tied to the pier, might get damaged. Essentially, the wind and waves were pushing the boat up against the pier every few seconds in heavy, forceful moves. We’d tied all of our fenders to the pier-facing side of the boat and spent the entire dark and stormy night running up from the warm, comfy salon to check on the situation every 5 minutes or so. My dad didn’t get any sleep at all, adjusting the fenders again and again till the early hours when the storm began to lose its horrific strength. It all turned out all right; the fenders did their job. In hindsight this was an exciting experience to have together; rare, as 1) we usually manage to moor well and safely, and 2) we rarely are faced with such strong winds. While it was going on, it felt fairly dramatic, yet none of us dared to articulate why. We all knew that if the fenders were to let us down, there’d be nothing we could do to protect the boat … it was too risky to think about moving it … where would we move it to? One thing is certain: we’ll never moor like that again, in a weather like that, if we can avoid it.
The next morning, after drinking tea and packing our stuff, Sanoop and I hugged my parents goodbye and took the bus to Odense to check out Hans Christian Andersen’s childhood home and catch the train to Copenhagen.
Those 2 weeks of sailing flew by way too quickly: as much as I didn’t mind returning to work the day after the trip, I still envied my parents who got to take the boat back to Juelsminde. Sailing is my favourite type of holiday; every moment is precious.