The weather and the fact that I have work to have both conspired with my own slothfulness to hinder any plans to explore much further than Host’s kitchen over the last few days.
Today was very exciting: I managed to get out in a respite in the weather and a lull in work to do a little local exploring around Chez Host, and look at my first ever fjord.
I’m staying/stranded in a little fjordside village not far from Hvidbjerg, a town whose pronunciation does away with the need for most of the letters on the sign. The village has a kayak club, an inn (might investigate), and a church. I’d like to say there’s a mountain lurking somewhere but I have yet to see it.
It also has a bus stop, and my afternoon expedition started with a trip to see that, just in case there was something happening. Which there was not.
Nonetheless, around the water there was plenty to see that’s out of the ordinary for someone who usually lives surrounded by buildings and I got more excited than was perhaps reasonable at seeing my first fjord and getting an opportunity to try out The Mittens. They are more windproof than the other handwear I brought with me, but slightly cumbersome for phone use. This might serve a purpose.
Around the kayak club there are some jetties with boats moored too them, some little green areas with play areas, and some fun and colourful art which merited crossing the road from the bus stop to see. I assume they’re the work of the locals and it’s nice to see them remaining intact and in danger of being damaged only by the weather.
I followed the wind-swept shore round to where I was close to the church. There is a convenient track that leads from the shore to the church, once an embankment built for a local priest. Hans Lydersen was the priest for many different churches around the fjord and would arrive by boat and have the locals carry him through the marsh to the church.
At some point, because he’d become corpulent to the point that the local god-fearers refused to continue carrying him through the marsh, he ordered the embankment built to make the job easier for the faithful.
It remains today as a track leading up from the shore to the church.
The church is white with a terracotta roof, as are all of the churches I’ve seen round here so far. White, as well as being a symbol of purity within the faith, is quite as a large white building with a tower on it near the shore as it can be used as a navigational aid and also as a warning. Some, I am led to understand by Host, also have — or had — lights in the towers to act as a warning to those on the water.
I’m not sure that was supposed to be able to access the tower (the door was unlocked so perhaps I was) but this might explain the shutters in the belfry. Unless they just want them to make more noise or can close them for subdued ringings.
Will we ever know?
I crossed over the road to look at the other bus stop outside the church, then sauntered home via some more water and boats to look at the art once more, before having some afternoon work to do.
The sun came out. It was nice to see.
