“In Denmark, they will take your license for that”

I call Albert from a restaurant in Helsingor and get the directions to his house. He is suggests I stop off at the castle in Frederiksborg, and any excuse to extend my time in the car is good enough for me. This particular castle is much more beautiful than Kronborg, and is still in official use, which explains the armed guards who pace the square. I stroll through the gardens- my father would love them- and then race back toward Albert. He has agreed to park his Cayenne Turbo S, an 525 horsepower monster of a truck along the road, so that I will know his estate. The roads towards his small town are enticingly empty, and I’m flying by when I see his truck, Albert aside it, standing at the road. “You know that’s much too fast” Albert chides as I pull a quick U-turn and enter his drive. Albert’s home is typical for the Danish countryside, a sprawling thatch-roofed home with several outbuildings. Everywhere I turn, there are incredible cars. I park next to an E55amg, just a few feet away from an MGB, a 1966 Ford Mustang Convertible, and a brand new Ford GT supercar. He takes me around the estate- one barn houses British roadsters- a Morgan, a Healey, and an MGA, and another modern race cars, including a rare Porsche 996 GT3RS. Tool sheds hide a vintage Mercedes, and there is an Audi R8 and a Ferrari 360 peeking out of the carriage house. Albert clearly knows his cars. He takes me in his Mercedes G-Wagon (with the backseats removed so it can be registered as a truck, avoiding the 180% taxes) back into Copenhagen, and drops me off in the center square.