Christiansø, Frederiksø and Bornholm, Denmark
There are magic days where the sun teases your senses, hiding in the haze and carrying with it the land and sea. Blue sky above was washed with filmy cirrus clouds and the sea had only the slightest ripple as our eyes scanned the empty waters in the early morning hours. There was the impression that we were alone on the planet, no other life or land nearby. Only by gazing intently at the horizon were we able to finally make out a shadow on our starboard side and another small silhouette ahead. Although only 25 miles from Sweden, we were still in Denmark ready to explore her far flung archipelago.
As the day unfolded we were reminded that first impressions are often misleading. Alone we were not. Flocks of gulls, guillemots and razorbills hastened to and fro from the protected rocky mound called Græsholm. Eider hens herded their ducklings from one quiet cove to the next while handsome black and white drakes bathed and preened at the edges of this island cluster known as Ertholmene. Bird watchers plied the shores of Christiansø and tiny Frederiksø in search of any unusual migrant that might be resting there. Amongst the bustle of visitors and families picnicking, new life was taking form hidden beneath the flowers. Camouflaged eider females nestled into their down lined nests, the sites chosen for solitude and seemingly for aesthetics too. Spring was all around. Pink sea thrift cascaded from glacially sculpted ridges. Delicate mauve and yellow ivy-leaved toadflax draped from rampart walls. Wildflowers blended with cultivated flowers which seemed to flow from every home.
Nearby Bornholm stirred with sunny Sunday activity as well. Families gathered on the pier to watch our lithe Zodiacs squeeze into the tiny harbor in Gudhjem. Unlike the islets of the morning, we could not explore this terrain on foot. Coaches carried us inland through lush green fields of grain and golden ones of rape. Like a beacon on the sea, the white washed walls of a round church and its cone shaped roof stood out. Its unique exterior was matched by its unusual interior decor. The road ascended until we could go north no further. Beneath the crumbling walls of Hammershus Castle, gray-napped jackdaws grazed in fields side by side with black-faced sheep. In ponds created as fortifications frogs sang their courtship songs.
As the day of exploration meandered toward a close, the sun spilled its brilliance onto the calm and reflective waters stealing the horizon. Sea and sky became as one and the Endeavour appeared to float suspended in space ready to carry us to another Baltic state.
There are magic days where the sun teases your senses, hiding in the haze and carrying with it the land and sea. Blue sky above was washed with filmy cirrus clouds and the sea had only the slightest ripple as our eyes scanned the empty waters in the early morning hours. There was the impression that we were alone on the planet, no other life or land nearby. Only by gazing intently at the horizon were we able to finally make out a shadow on our starboard side and another small silhouette ahead. Although only 25 miles from Sweden, we were still in Denmark ready to explore her far flung archipelago.
As the day unfolded we were reminded that first impressions are often misleading. Alone we were not. Flocks of gulls, guillemots and razorbills hastened to and fro from the protected rocky mound called Græsholm. Eider hens herded their ducklings from one quiet cove to the next while handsome black and white drakes bathed and preened at the edges of this island cluster known as Ertholmene. Bird watchers plied the shores of Christiansø and tiny Frederiksø in search of any unusual migrant that might be resting there. Amongst the bustle of visitors and families picnicking, new life was taking form hidden beneath the flowers. Camouflaged eider females nestled into their down lined nests, the sites chosen for solitude and seemingly for aesthetics too. Spring was all around. Pink sea thrift cascaded from glacially sculpted ridges. Delicate mauve and yellow ivy-leaved toadflax draped from rampart walls. Wildflowers blended with cultivated flowers which seemed to flow from every home.
Nearby Bornholm stirred with sunny Sunday activity as well. Families gathered on the pier to watch our lithe Zodiacs squeeze into the tiny harbor in Gudhjem. Unlike the islets of the morning, we could not explore this terrain on foot. Coaches carried us inland through lush green fields of grain and golden ones of rape. Like a beacon on the sea, the white washed walls of a round church and its cone shaped roof stood out. Its unique exterior was matched by its unusual interior decor. The road ascended until we could go north no further. Beneath the crumbling walls of Hammershus Castle, gray-napped jackdaws grazed in fields side by side with black-faced sheep. In ponds created as fortifications frogs sang their courtship songs.
As the day of exploration meandered toward a close, the sun spilled its brilliance onto the calm and reflective waters stealing the horizon. Sea and sky became as one and the Endeavour appeared to float suspended in space ready to carry us to another Baltic state.
