Sand between my toes and against my skin has never been all that pleasurable, even when I was a child or teenager and my mother took us to Florida for annual holidays. Crowds of sunscreen-covered folks, mingled smells of cooking food, and the cacophony of overlapping voices are also nothing of interest.
But — give me an opportunity to visit the seaside in the autumn or winter, to walk (with my shoes on!) with the wind whipping my hair and my cheeks becoming bright shades of red from the chilly temperatures, and I will happily keep you company!
The Baltic was just behind the treeline in our cottage in Ystad, quietly lapping at the sand a mere one-block distance down a narrow lane. We noticed that it’s a year-round spot for locals who are taking a daily stroll, walking the dog, or ambling along on their bicycles or mobility scooters.
Hope you enjoy these glimpses of off-season seaside life in Ystad!
Needing a break from art and design museums, we decided to get off the highway for two nights in Ystad, Sweden after we crossed The Bridge (yes, the one in the Scandi-Noir television series) and headed south from Malmo.
Just as we were leaving Aarhus, Denmark, the skies turned dark and ominous and we drove through heavy burst of rain and hail. The green-tinged sky looked as if tornadoes could drop out of it at any moment.
Fortunately, the weather cleared by the time we reached the border of Denmark and Sweden and we had a pleasant drive for the rest of the day.
Below is the Oresund Bridge — the one featured in the Swedish-Danish co-production television series The Bridge. Some tips for those who travel this way, there is a Border Force booth that is manned by police at the end. For the first time since we’ve been travelling in mainland Europe, we were required to produce our passports — and the fee to cross the bridge is over €50. That was a bit unexpected!
I needed to catch up on some writing and photo editing and a couple of days by the Baltic Sea in the off-season sounded quite relaxing. It was — and we ended up staying for five and a half days, not two.
Getting in and out of the van multiple times a day, whether to have a meal, see one of the sights, or just stretch our legs, was getting really tiresome.
The cottage I had rented more than met our expectations — it exceeded them with the attention to detail that the owners had paid when they renovated it. We had a fully-equipped kitchen and could cook for ourselves, removing the need to go out to restaurants or bring back sandwiches or salads. The beds were comfy, the neighbourhood was quiet, and the hot tub on the back deck was a genuine bonus.
For someone who is so research-minded, I had done ZERO research into things to do in the area. So it was a very pleasant surprise to discover that there was a movie and television studio in Ystad — Ystad Studios — where the 40-plus episodes of the Scandi-Noir crime series Wallander had been filmed. Portions of the series The Bridge were also produced there. Some of the sets from each of those shows, plus some movies we had never heard of, had been preserved to form a tour. What fun!
Off-season travelling often means less-crowded conditions. But we never anticipated having the entire studio tour area to ourselves. Below are some images from that tour. And yes, I know it’s cheesy, but we both enjoyed sitting in one of the leather chairs from the Wallander series and taking pictures to capture the moment.
An added bonus to staying put for several days was that Mark finally had a chance to ride his new bike someplace other than the congested roads of Essex in England!
After leaving Kolding and our wonderful visit to the Trapholt, Museum, we took a less than two-hour drive north to Aarhus to see yet another Danish museum that is primarily dedicated to modern art and design.
Before our arrival, we hadn’t known that Arne Jacobsen, one of our favourite Danish designers, was one of the architects for the City Hall and Clock Tower opened in the early 1940s in Aarhus during World War II.
We had intentionally chosen an apartment that was a short 7-minute walk to the museum, allowing us to park the car and not worry about driving in the city. Mark took a few early morning walks while I was still sleeping, so a sprinkling of his pictures are included below.
The AROS Museum’s contemporary interior is housed in the 2004-built fourth version of the museum. The original was founded in 1859. Due to copyright issues, you will notice that I have not included any images of the artwork within the galleries.
The ring of coloured glass on the top of the building is a walkway that allows you to have a full view of the city all around you.
The exterior of the AROS Museum in the heart of Aarhus, Denmark.Coloured glass rooftop walkway at the AROS Museum in Aarhus, Denmark.
Stepping through the doors of AROS, we were presented with an array of levels and lashings of bold phrases painted on the walls.
Interior of the AROS Museum in Aarhus, Denmark.
Accessibility is never an issue within this museum since there are glass elevators as well as curved ramps of easy-to-use stairs.
Spiral ramps connect the interior levels of the AROS Museum in Aarhus, Denmark.
AROS also has a multi-area cafe and shop on the ground floor.
Entry to the restaurant inside the AROS Museum in Aarhus, Denmark.
As we left the museum that evening, I turned around to see what the building would look like when it was lit up at night. It was equally as delightful as during the daytime.
Night view of the exterior of the AROS Museum with its landmark coloured glass walkway atop the building.
Below are some of the wonderful discoveries that Mark made on his morning walks. Enjoy!
It’s autumn in Scandinavia, so the weather changes here rather quickly. As the light gets thinner and the evenings arrive earlier each day, it’s a challenge to find balanced light for taking images.
This short photo essay is filled with shots that Mark took in Kolding, Denmark as he dashed out one afternoon between the persistent bursts of rain. Enjoy!
Surface application of floral artwork on a house in Kolding, Denmark.Bogpassagen sign in Kolding, Denmark.A sculpture of a young man in an open-air display area within the Old Town section of Kolding, Denmark.A public art display in an urban park within Kolding, Denmark. Stone sculptures are placed on the stairs and flat platforms within this space.Modern sculpture of a woman on a motorcycle. Public art discovered on a walk around Kolding, Denmark.For the numerous cycling enthusiasts and commuters, the ever-present bike parking racks in Kolding, Denmark.
We’ve lived in France for over five years — and that has given us so many benefits and blessings — things that we are quite appreciative of. I did the hard slog of paperwork required to get our plastic ID cards that prove we are EU residents in good standing — and I even obtained an EU driving license. Since we’ve been ‘in the system’ and eligible for health care and energy rebates and so forth — why change things now?
We’ve been living in a pretty part of Brittany and we’ve made some wonderful friends over the last few years. But picturesque settings and pleasant folks aside, we feel like our time in France may be coming to an end. To determine if our feelings are accurate, we’re currently on a long driving holiday in northern Europe.
Our mindset about life shifted rather dramatically this year when Mark’s father died a few months ago. Having such an anchor presence, one that you thought would always be there, disappear within weeks of your last visit to England impacted us both rather sharply. We grieved deeply — and then we realised that we needed to decide how we felt about France as our long-term home.
We first went to England for two weeks and spent some time with my mother-in-law whilst getting ourselves prepared to travel again. It’s been a year since we took our last long trip to Italy for two months.
Mark bought a new off-road bike and he did test runs around Canvey Island and other nearby spots before we set off.
Mark’s Boardman orange bike in front of a ruin on Canvey Island, Essex, England.
A variety of boats along a narrow waterway in Canvey Island, Essex, England.
Then Mark fine-tuned some things on the van, decided how many bikes he was taking along for the trip, and exactly one week ago, we arrived in Harwich just before sunset where we stopped for some photos before enjoying a lovely dinner.
Mark taking photos in Harwich England at sunset.
A few hours later, we sailed away on a beautiful Stena Lines ship to the Hook of Holland. We had a wonderfully comfortable overnight trip and a good breakfast the next morning before we disembarked.
Cabin on the Stena Line sailing from Harwich to Hook of Holland.
Breakfast on our Stena Lines trip from Harwich to Hook of Holland.
After arrival, we went through the long lines at passport control (proudly showing our EU cards as proof that we live in Europe and are not overseas tourists with a limited-time status!) and away we drove towards Germany.
Our first stop for the night was in a tiny spot near Bremen called Ganderkesee. The country house hotel was gloriously old-world and the food at the evening meal and huge breakfast the next morning was excellent.
Exterior of the Hotel Backenkohler in Ganderkesee, Germany.
Most of our destinations will be all-new territory for us. We’ve been to the Netherlands and Germany several times, but we’ve never ventured further north into the Scandinavian countries. We have so many places to see, photos to take, and new experiences to have.
The latest post is a sprinkling of images from our last days in Paris. It was a very compressed 5-day visit during an intense heatwave.
View of the Eiffel Tower from the Avenue de La Bourdonnaise in Paris.
Resting in the shade by a cooling water garden in back of the Musee Quai Branly in Paris. The Rue de L’Universite.
This isn’t chalk — these are painted designs on the bicycle and scooter lane alongside the Quai D’Orsay in Paris. Can’t find any information about what the marks mean!
Dinner at the Brasserie Terminus Balard in Paris.
Next up — a post full of images taken by Mark Harmes in Paris!
Needing a break from the grim and seemingly interminable winter last year, we decided to meander around Brittany, comparing the lifestyles on offer in each small village and larger town. Morlaix may not have been where we chose to settle, but it had a lot going for it as you’ll soon see.
The undeniable ‘feature’ of the small city is the viaduct, built in the late 1800s, that looms over a portion of the town below. The viaduct carries the train tracks and is even snuggled up close to a historic church. I can imagine that the houses, businesses, and the church all feel the vibrations of that rail traffic throughout the day!
The 1800s viaduct in Morlaix, Brittany, France looms over the town below.
The 1800s viaduct in Morlaix, Brittany, France looms over the town below.
As you walk further away from the viaduct and into the ‘old town’ area, it’s soon clear that the entire city is built on several levels with both residential and commercial areas sprinkled high and low.
The old town of Morlaix is built on several levels.
Along an almost silent street on the upper levels of Morlaix, the violin maker’s shop is now closed and the blinds are drawn down.
Some of the medieval era streets are quite narrow and twisty. Since the doors and shutters for both homes and businesses are sometimes closed tightly against the weather, you’ll need to keep a close lookout for the quirky spots — the tiny shops of interest that are off the main streets filled with glossier offerings.
Blue-painted front facade of a small brocante in a narrow street in Morlaix, Brittany, France.
