August 16, 2018. After stopping to look at a mill and manor, I crossed a bridge under construction and came across a beautiful church, which I took time to explore. From there, I continued on to Malmö, a city I really liked. It had a great castle, an impressive library, and peaceful botanical gardens. The port and marina were also lovely. A big fair was going on, and in one of the parks there was an ecological day celebration with clowns and comedy performances. I visited a design space and a network café that focused on urban planning—something Sweden does especially well.

Later in the day, I crossed the 60-kronor bridge into Copenhagen and found parking around 6 p.m. near the fine art museum. The city was in full swing for Pride Week, with loud house music blasting from the center. I wandered through a discussion tent on LGBTQ+ issues that was thoughtful and engaging, but by the next day, the atmosphere had shifted into more of a drunken drumming party with trash everywhere. Even so, Copenhagen was beautiful.

At 10 p.m., I returned to my car and discovered a 150-kronor parking ticket. I had unknowingly parked in a handicapped spot because I wasn’t sure if regular spots allowed free parking. Frustrated, I left the city and drove to King’s Forest (Helbesde?), worried I might get another ticket for illegal camping.

August 17. I woke early to loud voices and a car speeding past my campsite, seemingly to scare me. A nearby marathon had brought in crowds, but the area itself was peaceful with big, old trees. I went for a short walk and tried to find breakfast, but everything was closed until noon.

Later, I returned to Copenhagen and parked legally this time. I joined a walking tour, which provided great information about Hans Christian Andersen. I stopped at Original Coffee, where I had a good conversation with a kind barista and an elderly local woman. I then walked to Christiania Island, which looked like it had started as an eco-village but had since been overrun by pot-smoking graffiti artists.

Afterwards, I visited the botanical gardens and King’s Park, then explored the Vesterbro neighborhood. It had a cozy vibe, especially near the train station, though the parade route was still littered from the Pride events. That evening, I headed toward Aarhus. On the way, a low tire pressure warning came on, and I asked a man for help. I ended up camping off a dirt road near a 1930s brick tower, feeling uneasy that a farmer might show up and ask me to leave.

August 18. In the morning, I climbed the nearby tower before heading into Aarhus. I visited the Dom Church and asked around for coffee. That’s how I met Frederik, who offered to take me to a place called Great Coffee, though it turned out to be closed. We chatted for a while—he’s a teacher at a Christian boarding school, where he teaches RPGs, badminton, and applied religion. He was thoughtful, kind, and very easy to talk to. I really liked him. He lives in Viborg with his wife and child and eventually had to catch a train.

I walked to a nearby park and tried some gelato that turned out to be awful, so I treated myself to some from Mammis instead, which was much better. I tried going to the library, but it was closed. At Mammis, I met an urban planner and admired the surrounding houses before heading off to Helvedek and Christiansfeld, a town built by the Moravian Church with all-brick buildings.

The churchyard there was especially striking—flat grave markers seemed scattered and disorganized. A guide mentioned “The Erection of Christ” instead of “Resurrection,” possibly referencing fertility. Afterwards, I drove to Haderslev, a medieval town with a scenic layout along a fjord. It had charming old buildings and a large, loud group of Islamic youth playing music and shouting. That night, I continued toward Lübeck and camped beside a cornfield along the road. At some point, I heard pigs—or some other animal—moving through the crops. It was eerie.