Three countries, awesome food and castles. Be warned: this post might be excessive in length.
Leaving Gothenberg this morning was not as hectic as we had thought while driving the new car. Within 15 minutes we were heading south on highway E20 at a solid 100 KM/H. The car is packed to the roof with luggage and we have all nestled in to prepare for the 8 hour journey ahead. The first leg consists of Gothenberg to the city of Malmo, on the southern border of Sweden and Denmark. From Malmo we cross over into Denmark where we will then drive to Hamburg for dinner and finally end in Bremen where we will sleep for the night. Good thing I have Group Therapy and some good books to read.
After stopping to refuel (where Mom used toilet seat cleaner to wash her hands might I add) we happened to cross into pure magic. Down the road a little sat a village that I believed only existed in dreams. Once a medieval fortress for Danish troops, the little city has been extraordinarily persevered, and allowed for the most unforgettable lunch of my life. Cobble stone roads, cathedral styled churches and authentic Danish café’s were to be found around every corner, I could not believe we had actually stumbled upon this hidden village on accident. We found a neat café and sat down to enjoy a treat. The food was phenomenal, the sandwich being by far the best I have ever had. The rest of the family agreed, I think Dad repeated the phrase “I’m in heaven” at least 5 times.
Hamburg was still a few hours down the road, so we forced ourselves to leave. I accidently fell asleep on this leg of the drive and woke up in Hamburg, Germany. Hamburg is Germany’s largest city and is relatable to the likes of New York City. Just as we experienced in Sweden, there were more places to shop than I could have counted. A Christmas village was set up in one of the cities districts, and with some careful and not all to safe maneuvering, we were parked and walking through throngs of people admiring Christmas lights and enjoying all sorts of food out of the hundreds of carts scattered throughout.
Dinner was at the “Groninger Pils”, a place my Dad had been before while on a work trip here in Hamburg. Drinking what the waitress called “white beer” brewed right there at the restaurant, I was one happy camper. We ordered a bunch of German meat which came out on a flat, wooden stump. It’s these little things that make Europe so great.