Many weekends later, I pick up where I left off in the
town of Rødekro. Rødekro means “Red Inn”. This is a rare example of a town
named after an inn instead of the other way around.
Anyway, this time best friend Åse is with me. Time
flies as we walk through village after village adorned with election posters.
We discuss the different parties and politicians, happily in disagreement with
each other because otherwise what would there be to discuss? How boring to agree on everything – who wants
to be in the company of clones? I am proud to say that votes are given to the
full range of political parties in Denmark by my friends and acquaintances.
It’s nice to know such a variety of people! Anyway, I digress.
The first part of the route leads us through flat
agricultural landscapes. Now that it is June the fields are a lush green. We
aim for the churches along the way because here we can always find a toilet,
fresh water, and a bench that we can sit on and rest our weary bones. Åse is an
expert walker and makes sure that we stop every hour or so to take off our
shoes and socks and cool down our feet. At the end of the day I discover what a
good idea that is. No blisters and no sore feet (well, almost not).
We pass by an Asterix-type monolith sitting on top of
a burial mound from the Bronze Age. The story goes that the stone turns in the
direction of the smell of newly-baked bread. I don’t blame it. Further on is
another big stone from around 900. This one has runes etched into it spelling
the name of Hairulfr. How wonderfully Nordic! Even back then this road,
Hærvejen, was a well-known road.
The next bit of history soothes our feet. We come to
the road’s oldest bridge, Immervad Bro, from 1786. The bridge is built in stone
but based on wood construction technique, in that the stone has been cut into
planks, some of which are four metres long. It is thought that all the pieces
come from the same block of granite. We
gratefully cool our feet in the stream while listening to the quiet babble of
the water. A nasty battle was fought here in 1422, colouring the water red with
blood.
At this point I am feeling seriously tired. Then, lo
and behold! In the middle of nowhere we happen upon a place where we can buy
quality coffee served by an Italian. Miracles never cease! Thus refreshed we
trudge onwards until we reach the traveler’s shelter (“herberg”) where there is
one big room with 36 beds. No private life here. It is still early in the
season so there are only two other guests. We have walked about 25 km and enjoy
sitting down to a bottle of wine and a dinner of canned spaghetti with meat
sauce before conking out on our beds.
Next day we get a nice and early start. More green
farmland and lots of verdant forest. The scenery just seems to get better and
better, but towards the end I am too tired to enjoy it. All I can think of is getting to our
destination, sitting down and drinking a cup of coffee. 
Finally, around 25 km
later, we reach the spot where the car is parked. This place was a guesthouse
(“Stursbøl Kro”) for centuries up until the 1870’s. Now it is a folk music café
and a shelter with 32 beds for Hærvejen travelers. We enjoy a cup of coffee
before heading home, weary and footsore after almost 50 km in two days. Less
than 400 km to go!
