Thisted - Klitmøller - Hanstholm
Weather: warm, partly clouded, ~27°
Kilometers on bike: 42 km
I need roughly three hours to repackage everything. I refill my bike bottles with water. I check out and afterwards I meet a Dutch couple near the exit of the camp site. The man talks to me in Dutch. I am a bit irritated, but things become clear after a few moments. They thought I am Dutch because of the Koga Miyata bike I am riding. Proudly they explained its a Dutch bike and it is produced in Frisia. They are riding the Randonneurs from Koga Miyata and are really happy to see someone else cycling on a Dutch bike. Last week, they have been near Bielefeld in the Teutoburger Wald, but the weather has been bad: rain and 11° degrees. So they decided to go up to Northern Denmark (well…). They are the typical aged travellers which roam through all parts of Scandinavia : travel by motor caravan. We do a bit of small talk and then I am off to the downtown part of Thisted.
According to my map, I have to take a turn to the right at the church to get to the road to Hanstholm. Oh, the road at the church is closed for extensive repairs. Ok, time to take a stroll through the city. I push my bike through the pedestrian area, trying to head into the right direction. Intrestingly, every pensioner obviously does have one of those modern motorised wheel chairs. I have never seen so many of them in the street.
I reach a road which I believe should be a turning which leads into the right direction. Just to be on the safe side I ask an inhabitant. Wow, I am understanding some Jutish! Must be another dialect which you can identify as some kind of Danish. 
Following her directions, I get on the road leading to Hanstholm. A cycle-path is right next to the road. Optimism for my planned alternative, more beautiful route via Klitmøller and north along the Northsea to Hanstholm!
Well, the cycle-path follows the main road to Hanstholm, while I have to follow the normal road on my alternative route. A lot of traffic. 
At least the scenery is nice: nice hills, woodland and wild looking forest - excellent scenery for the music of Svartsot! Slowly I begin to notice my breakfast wasn’t enough: only an apple and some water.
I reach Klitmøller and quickly find a supermarket. Applejuice, two packs of oat biscuits, white rolls (spansk rundstykker). I eat the rolls and one half pack of oat biscuits and drink some applejuice. I wish there where more oat biscuits available in Germany… I really like Scandinavian oat biscuits! I mix the rest of the juice with my water for trip. During a short talk to some Germans(?) I find out there isn’t a cycle path north to Hanstholm, I have to follow the Kystvej, the local main road, to Hanstholm.
Lots of traffic, obviously most of them on holiday and on their way to the ferry. I am the only biker here. The Kystvej leads right through a wonderful nature reserve, the Thy National Parc to be precise, lots of dunes, behind them the Northsea and heath and hills. A short way from Hanstholm, you can see the lighthouse to the North, the younger German history catches up with me . the German batteries Hanstholm I from WW2 lie in a quite idyllic spot among the dunes. Later on I get to know that those batteries belonged to the Atlantic Wall of the Nazis and was used to “secure” the Skaggarak. All of Hanstholm (and the coast north of it) is still covered with those fortifications today. [1]
I follow the signs to the ferry harbour. Without problems I find the bureau of Fjordline. It’s around 13:00, so I could take the ferry at 16:30. I inquire about the price and it’s not as cheap as announced on their website, so I decide to take the ferry tomorrow morning for half the price. Even with setting up my camp on camping site I still safe some money.
Instead of looking directly for the camp site, I follow the coastline north to get to the sea. I enjoy the sun, sea and fresh air. I follow the road through an industrial area. Modern harbours and surrounding industrial areas aren’t really pretty. Well, what’s that? The road ends in the dunes north of Hanstholm. Ok, back and I climb the 65m high hill on which most of Hanstholm is residing. There aren’t any sign which point the way to the camp site, so I have to ask at a gas station. I am already on teh right track, just further along (a few kms) and I am at the Hanstholm camping site.
What a charming welcome at the reception! Ei hyggelig jenta! The women are really beautiful up here. I guess I am talking a mix of Danish and Norwegian at the moment, most Danes I encounter think I am a Swede. I am not sure if that’s a compliment though. Nei, jeg er ingen svensker, jeg er tysk. That’s even more confusing for them. 
The camp site is big, really big. I get a map and a list with free slots. I can drive over the site and select one of the slots I like. Finally I decide to take a slot between two caravans, I pitch my tent and go back to the reception to finalise my check-in. Sadly, someone else is there and the nice lady isn’t.
Back in my tent, I rest on my mattress. Rest of the day is pure regeneration. I take a very long stroll through the dunes and along the beach - my beach, I am the only person there. I guess I found a small piece of amber among the stones. Back at the camp, I prepare tea, listen to music (Cultus Ferox is fitting to Hanstholm and the sea) and cook. Basmatirice with raisins and almonds, spiced with self made curry (after an Indian recipe). I study maps and travel guides of Norway and at 22:00 I try to sleep. At last, even the shrieking kids must have been gone to bed.
[1] More about the Atlantic Wall in Denmark: http://www.atlantikwall-denmark.net/index.php?l=en
Tags: Atlantic Wall, Cultus Ferox, Fjordline, Hanstholm, Svartsot, Thy National Parc
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