Denmark, Day 2

Jeremy is active and ambitious. He often takes the girls on outdoor adventures and leaves me at home. Often, when they come back they all tell me, "You would NOT have liked that." I'm content to take a break from momming so hard, and just sit around by myself while they tromp through the world.

Today, I tagged along.

Cows guarding the parked cars

Near Løkken, stands the Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse. Built in 1899, it is now slowly being destroyed by shifting sands and coastal erosion. It's wikipedia page ends with this terrifying sentence: "It is expected that the tower will fall into the sea by 2023." Seems like a long time in the future, but that's just SIX years from now.

What it used to look like (2007)

How it looks now (2017)

Jeremy accidentally-on-purpose failed to mention that there's a kilometer-long walk to reach the lighthouse. Now, a kilometer is not that far (about 10 football fields, my fellow Americans). But when most of it is over fine and dense sand, heading uphill, with a fierce offshore wind blowing sand into your face and pushing you away from your destination, a kilometer feels long indeed.

"What up, bovine?"

At least you get to walk past goats and sheep along the way

Almost there!

We finally made it to the lighthouse and hiked up the stairs to the top. The view from that height was a stunner.

Through an open window

Crazy, colorful, beauty

It's windy at the top!

VERY WINDY!

But we didn't hike all the way to this lighthouse for the view. We came for the dunes.

Savannah, dune sledding

Jeremy has fond childhood memories of playing on dunes in Michigan with his cousin, so when he had the chance to take his children to truly massive, lighthouse devouring sand dunes, there was no debate. The girls brought their sleds all the way from Sweden, in the hope that they'd be able to slide down the dunes. It didn't work, but they had fun scooting down and rolling down and generally getting entirely covered in sand.

Playing Ewok, hiding from the sand

The walk back felt easy and quick, wind at our backs, headed downhill, facing away from the flying sand. Our shoes were so full of sand that we traded analogies as we walked: feels like my shoes are two sizes too small, feels like a mouse crawled under my toes to hide, feels like my shoes are full of Play-Doh.

Sand survivors at dinner

Back at our temporary home, we showered away the layers of sand and rested. In the late afternoon, we borrowed our host's bikes to cruise around town. Found a cute spot for dinner, where we sat outside and cozied up under fleece blankets. Ice cream to end the day before heading back home for the night. Hiking and biking, while staying in a summer home? Feeling very Scandi today.