In the morning, I get up late again and go to the fitness center. It is fantastic. It is about half the size as the big gym for athletes at Stanford and it has much more complex equipment. I can't even imagine what some of the machines do. I try out a wierd jogging machine with handles and do some more exercises.
After a shower, I go to breakfast. This is also fantastic. Apparantly, this is some kind of exclusive health spa. Just what I needed. All the food is low-fat and organic. There are free pills for vitamins and fish oil. A German couple and I laugh about this and we eat together. He is a retired doctor and she a school teacher. They are very nice. The woman notes that it is good that he has a profession that lets him work a bit with colleagues even after retirement. It is very sweet. I exchange cards with the doctor.
I hate to leave this place. And it is less than $70/night! But it's about 11am again and time to get going. And it is already spitting rain again.
The 8 winds through the pretty countryside. I reach Fynshav and catch the ferry. I meet an older man on a moped, since two-wheeled vehicles line up in front of the cars. I pay with a credit card as I have no Danish money, and don't intend to get any as I am just passing through. The man speaks only Danish, but we admire each other's vehicles. He has these cool glove-thingies ("hippo-hands") on his handlebars that keep his hands warm and dry.
The ferry is huge. We squeeze our bikes in on the side and go upstairs for the 50 minute ride to the island of Fyn. The 8 continues over this island. There are only small towns, some with thatched roofs. This is clearly a very historical island. The bike goes on reserve unexpectedly at only 212km. I guess I was pushing it on the Autobahn with strong winds. I start looking for gas. All of the towns are small and the gas pumps only work with credit cards at the pump. And mine don't work. It strikes me that I could be stranded on this Danish island, out-of-gas.
However, at one pump, my German bank card works. Gottseidank. I also change into my rainsuit as my leathers are already pretty soaked, though they haven't yet soaked through. The rain increases. I follow the 8 into Nyborg and find the big bridge over to the big island of Sjaelland.
This bridge is high. And there are signs warning of the crosswinds. They're not kidding. There are wind socks on the bridge and they are standing straight out pointing to my left. Every time I pass a camper or truck, I and struck again by the force of the wind. I keep my speed down to 120kph and make it across ok. There is a toll booth on the other end with a convenient credit card payment machine. And signs for lanes with motorcycles.
From there, I run with the Autobahn across the big island to Copenhagen. There I take the new (very high) bridge (opened in 99) across to Malmö, Sweden, also with strong crosswinds. There is another tool booth and then I am in Malmö, and I find my way to the rally by going into town and following the signs to the hospital, which has an information booth, where everyone helps me locate the BMW rally. It's about 4pm and I have gone only about 300km. The rain is just letting up as I pull into rally headquarters, where I am royally welcomed and given directions to my hotel.
The hotel is in the middle of the city and also very nice. I do a sauna on the 20th floor which overlooks the city. The sun doesn't set here until 10:30 so it's nice if rainy. (Dawn is about 3:30am so I just sleep with a mask.) Afterwards, I go down for dinner. I meet a some Germans, including Klaus, from Lubeck and Hamburg, whom I had met at the previous rally in Seefeld, and drink beer with them. I order a small herring sandwich for dinner, and also the recommended schnapps. It's all good. The guys are all old grizzled moto-vetrans and we discuss all manner of things before we all get tired and go off to bed. They are camping, which I am so glad I am not doing as I crawl into bed.
