First Taste of Danish - Part 1

Danish Delight - whichever way you want to see it

We have moved forward to 1961. I was then an apprentice in a hardware store, apprenticing as a hardware shop assistant.
Every year of my apprenticeship I would take a travelling holiday to somewhere.

Faster than greased lightening - The Quickly

First off was a hiking trip through what the Germans call the 'Middle Mountains' - nothing larger than oversized hills. Of course I had to do it in winter, Febraury actually, with lots of snow and walking about 30 kms a day. Most Youth Hostels were closed at that time of the year, but I always found accommodation. Next up was a cycling trip through Western Germany, Holland and Belgium. My 'Steely Steed' gave up the ghost in the Ardennes. I had to nurse it back to Luxembourg and put it, and myself, on a train to Trier, just inside Germany, and send it back by rail to Berlin. I hitchhiked back to Berlin and surprised mum with my arrival no end.

Checkpoint into Darkness

Well, by 1961 I had 'accumulated' enough funds to buy a moped - a 'glamorous' motorised bicycle, a NSU Quickly,  and decided to take a trip to Denmark and Sweden! Not that far away really for an enterprising spirit. Pity the moped didn't have the same spirit. Actually, it had no spirit at all - gave up the ghost half-way between West Berlin and the border crossing into West Germany at Lauenburg!
That presented a somewhat major problem. The rule then was, as imposed by the East Germans, that all 'slow' vehicles like bicycles and mopeds, had to make the crossing between West Berlin and West Germany during daylight hours, quite an ask for slow moving vehicles since it covered 220 km over some rather badly maintained 'highway'. By the way, this Transit route was the only one between Berlin and West Germany that allowed transit by bicycle or moped. The Quickly did have pedals, but pedalling was very hard and excrutiatingly slow. Chance of making the border crossing before sunset were slim, very slim.

The Tow Bug

As was typical in those days, everybody making the crossing helped anybody broken down or whatever. Along came a VW Bug with dad, mum and two gorgeous teenagers of the female variety on board. The car stopped, dad got out to assess the situation. The same as myself earlier he couldn't figure out the problem, let alone devise a fix. So, he declared the only remedy was to tow me to Lauenburg! He produced a tow rope, fastened it to the bumper bar of the Bug and gave me the other end to hold on to. "If anything untowards happens, just let go of the rope", were his words of advice. And off we went! He promised to drive slowly, yet still managed to clip along at 60 - 70 km/h. It would have been the most frightening 100 km I'd ever covered, or would ever cover, in my life. The pretty girls must have seen the terror on my face, they couldn't stop giggling.
Once in Lauenburg I had to recover from that stress and then push Quickly to the local Youth Hostel (YH). A good feed and sleep made the world look much brighter. Next morning a trip to the local moped shop for repairs. The guy recogned it was a coil or condensor that had the gong and replaced it. Off I went northwards towards Denmark.
I got as far as just outside Moelln, about 60 km distance, and the ruddy thing gave up the ghost AGAIN!
Alternating between pedalling and pushing I got the retched thing to a moped shop in Moelln, followed by check-in to the local YH. Next morning a return visit to the moped shop proved fatal. The diagnosis was not good to say the least. I decided to leave it in the hands of the seemingly capable guy for the next two weeks or so and continue my trip by hitchhiking.
Hitchhiking in those days was a relatively safe pursuit. On my first day I got a lift with a middle aged gent from Moelln to Itzehoe, where he lived. Being a very nice gent he promptly invited me to join him and his wife for 'Mittagessen', the quaint German custom of having ones main meal of the day at mid-day - supposedly very good for the digestive system and promoting better sleep at night. Never being one to decline a free meal I gladly accepted.
After Mittagessen I continued on my journey. I walked to the outskirts of Itzehoe and wagged my thumb. After a few minutes a VW stopped with a man in his thirties driving it. He offered me a lift to somewhere close to the Danish border. As we got underway and got chatting, not that I have much to say, it turned out he was a teacher from somewhere in the middle of Germany on his way for his summer vaccation. He had rented a cottage on Sylt, a rather quaint Island off the North-Western coast of Germany. He invited me to spend a few days with him if I was so inclined. Turned out he was gay, but a very nice and companionable person indeed. Before anybody worries, he never made a 'move' on me! He was just a very gracious host that entertained me, showed me the island (he'd be going there for years) and looked after my well being.
After a few days of R&R I crossed to the mainland to continue my hitchhiking. That day I got all the way to Odense (Hans Christian Andersen territory) courtesy of some very lucky lifts with little idle time in between.
OK folks - that's Part 1 - Part 2 will follow next week! Promise.