“Skål!”

Apparently Tuesday is a pretty calm night for the generally bustling Copenhagen nightlife, but my 3 new Danish friends were determined to show me a good time. We started out watching a football match in a pub, then they took me barhopping through central Copenhagen. I was introduced to the joys of fresh Carlsberg beer and a particularly evil Jagermeister type spirit called Fisherman’s friend. We hit quite a few pubs, espoused the greatness of Lars Ulrich, and narrowly avoided a fistfight with a group of vacationing Italians over our female friend’s honor. By three o’clock we were butchering the lyrics to “Wonderwall” at the top of our lungs accompanied by a guitarist at a Viking themed bar. Fun was had by all. Anso, Sven, and Magmus, you guys are very very cool, if you ever make it to New York I’ll return the favor.

Day 4- 08.15.07-Copenhagen/Odense/Kvaerndrup/Skagen

“Thees car has a singular purpose. To keel its driver.”

I am awoken at around ten the next morning. It’s Albert, who runs the Danish branch of the Classic Car Club, and he’s in the lobby. I throw my bags together and head downstairs, if I look half as bad as I feel then I’m probably the last person one would want to hand the keys of their sportscar to, but Albert is very friendly. The car is at the Copenhagen Porsche/Lamborghini/Bentley dealership where Albert thoughtfully had it checked over before my journey. He is clearly a familiar face there, and he takes me to see the Ferrari 348 I had initially reserved. It was up on a lift with a pretty severe blow to its nose, cutting deep into the underbody. “He only had it for three hours” Albert says of the driver. He takes me upstairs to point out his newly acquired 1959 Porsche speedster, which is in immaculate condition. Finally, it’s time to see my chariot for the next few days. We are met by Lars and Ulrikka, a young couple from Copenhagen who have prepared an itinerary of sights around Copenhagen for me. It’s clear that I’m much younger, and probably a little more disheveled, than anyone had expected. Nonetheless, they hand over the keys and point out the car. It’s a 1991 Porsche 911 turbo, a rare turbo version of the 964 that never made it to American shores. She’s midnight blue with a grey interior, looking magnificent in all her wide bodied, whale tailed, turbocharged glory. “I love thees car” says Albert “but it can scare me” He shares with me the story that a famed Danish LeMans driver took this very car along a track with Albert as a passenger and promptly lost control. Greeeat.

“Got a castle in Kvaendrup that’s where I dwell”

Denmark is made up of a number of Islands, the main three being Zealand, where Copenhagen is located, Funen, and Jutland. The itinerary that has been prepared for me will take me through all three, as I literally drive the entire length of the Country, ending up at the very tip of Jutland, where the Baltic and North Seas meet. It’s pouring down rain as I start off, not a great setting for a car that is infamous for its inability to stay on the road. The weather clears as I hit Odense, a university town that’s the biggest draw in tiny Funen. I stop to get directions to the first stop on my itinerary, as the navigation system I’ve purchased seems to only have maps of major cities, which is pretty useless. Luckily there are signs along most of the roadways, and they are fairly easy to follow. I find my way to Egeskov Slot (www.egeskov.com) a restored castle in the rural town of Kvaendrup. I don’t think I’d want to live in outer Denmark, but if I did, Egeskov Slot would be the place. The main house itself is furnished with incredible antiques, and it’s very comfortable for its size. However it’s the rest of the grounds on the forty acre estate that make it so special. It’s intricately landscaped, with topiaries, hedge-mazes, formal gardens, a “water garden” and a treetop walkway that oversees it all. Many families have brought picnic baskets, and seem quite content. There are several outbuildings on the property as well, which have been turned into cafes, shops, and a small doll museum. It’s the former Barns and carriage houses that sells it for me though. Inside are sixty some-odd vintage cars, ranging from early horseless carriages to mid-sixties Ferraris, Rolls Royces, and Jaguars. Beyond the car museum is the most incredible collection of Motorcycles I have ever seen. There are literally hundreds of bikes of all makes and models, every single one of them in immaculate condition. I didn’t see more than a thousand kilometers on any of the odometers. Theres also a replica of a fully stocked Danish marketplace, and a genuinely creepy “haunted” area of the barn that’s been turned into “dracula’s tomb.” If you ever find yourself in Jutland, definitely stop by. The roads around Egeskov were vast straightaways broken up by corkscrew twists, and a great place to let the Porsche play.

“Which way to the beach?”

The next part of my itinerary had me heading to Skagen a quaint port town at the very tip of Denmark that’s a popular summer spot for tourists. It takes me about four hours to reach Skagen, on a highway that cuts right through the center of Jutland. So what’s in the rest of Denmark? Absolutely nothing. My drive is kilometer after kilometer of flat grass fields and rolling farmlands. Where I not fortunate enough to be driving such an incredible car, I probably would have been quite bored. By the time I reached Skagen, it was eleven o’ clock. It turns out that there are dozens of tiny hotels in Skagen, and they all close their reception desks promptly at nine o’clock. So I park the car and roam the streets, looking desperately for a place to stay. Nothing. Hotel after hotel is pitch black. I’m seriously thinking I’m going to have to sleep in the Porsche. Finally, I see a porter cleaning up the bar below a hotel, and tap on the window. He turns out to be the manager of the place and yes, they have rooms. I get the distinct feeling that I’ve been given the “screw the desperate American” rate, but I need a place to crash so I reluctantly agree.

“It costs how much? Seriously?”

Remember when I mentioned that Copenhagen was expensive? Turns out all of Scandinavia is exorbitant, not just the city. My first clue is the bridge that connects Zealand to Funen. The toll to cross? 215dkk, or roughly 42 dollars. Granted, it was a nice bridge. I was about an hour and a half outside the castle when my fuel light first came on. The 911 turbo may eat the road, but it washes it down with a hearty helping of petrol. The price listed at the gas station for premium- and according to Albert, I must use premium, was 9.80dkk, or about two bucks. I thought that was the one good deal in Denmark when it dawned on me that the price probably wasn’t in gallons, considering the whole metric system. No, it was in liters. I soon found out that it takes 60 liters to fill the tank of a 1991 964 turbo. I’ll let you do the math on that one, because writing it out would pain me. I will never complain about the fuel prices in New York again. I grabbed a can of Coke from the gas station. It was 4 dollars. Don’t even ask what the hotel in Skagen ran. Yet despite the price, the Scandinavian peoples have been given the enviable title of “Happiest People on Earth” by an oft-reported and extensive study by, I kid you not, the World Happiness Institute. How’d you like to work there? (Though I can’t help but wonder if the WHI isn’t funded by Scandinavian travel boards.) Magmus had explained to me that in Denmark, all education is free, all the way through grad-school, and anyone who applies will get into at least one school. Medical care, including elective surgery, is completely covered by the government. Sounds utopian until Albert, who would definitely be in the highest of brackets, pays 65% of his income to taxes! Furthermore, there is an absolutely ridiculous tax on automobiles. There is a twenty five percent sales tax on cars. In addition to this, there is a ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY PER CENT tax, to register a car in Denmark. This means cars are three times expensive as they are in the United States. And, if you try to register a used car that was bought outside of the country, they charge you the tax on the price of the car when new! As Albert was explaining this to me he pointed to the window sticker of a brand new Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggeria. Registration taxes included, it was priced at 3,250,000dkk, or six hundred thousand dollars.