100(ish) Miles to Malmö

Edit: Pictures will continue to wait until I find acceptable WiFi and decipher over 4000 pictures. Sorry y’all!

After Copenhagen, I admittedly woke up unexcited for our travels. But Adam, our fearless leader from Austin Adventures, promised us fancy new touring bikes and boy, he did not disappoint. (Shameless plug, for bicycle trips around Europe, there’s no other company I would trust. Unless you are a professional cyclist, I’d definitely recommend leaning in on their experience and knowledge to put together a supercycle tour). Standing in front of me was a tall, beautiful silver bullet. A silver bullet that would take me the full 78 miles (plus side detours) over the next 4 days.

Before we rode off into the daybreak, though, we took a pitstop at Nordhavnen, or North Harbour. A masterplanned community of a few hundred thousand, we were shown around this strikingly modern community by three of it’s firsts residents who moved in over 4 years ago. With only a vision of reimagined warehouses and wastelands, these intrepid adventures have watched as a masterpiece in urban planning rose around them. Directly connected by bus, bike, and soon metro to the main Copenhagen, Nordhavnen is a artfully designed sea of low highrises housing all levels of residents (including 20% social housing). It boosts a bike and car park with a full playground, revamped water tower condos that offer beautiful vies of the city, schools, shops, waterfront parks, and even a doggie daycare. It struck me the sheer trust that our hosts had to show in buying into the mere idea of such a full community. Even through 4 years of construction, noise, and inconvenience, they and thousands of others have stuck it out to believe in a people-first community that offers them not only amenities, but options to engage with others and their surroundings every single day. It’s a far cry from our gated communities at home, with clubhouses sitting empty as people stay cooped up in their single family McMansions. With a wave and a final climb on the beautiful jungle gym, we said goodbye to our friends in Nordhavnen and began the 35 mile journey to Helsingør.

Denmark’s bicycle infrastructure extends outside it’s capital with beautiful super cycle highways that extend in all directions around the country. We chose the beautifully picturesque route to Helsingør and spent a day traveling the near 40 miles to this northern outpost. The narrowest portion of the Øresund Strait, Helsingør and it’s Swedish neighbor Helsingborg were fortress towns that protected the all important trade routes in and out of the Baltic Sea for centuries. Constantly fought over by the Swedes and Danes, this now modern mix of old Danish charm and new age tourism is a hotspot for Danish and foreign tourist alike. With such a rich history, it’s no wonder this town, and its castle, were the inspiration for Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

Along the way, our pack thinned out as we naturally fell into groups to explore the countryside. A group of seven wandered down the beautiful tree lined lane through the old royal hunting ground to Bakken. Supposedly an inspiration to Walt Disney for Disneyland, this gorgeous little theme park boats 9 coasters and over 30 rides. Free to walk around, you only pay to play and for less than $40 USD to ride unlimitedly for a day, it’s better than any major amusement park you’re likely to find in any other country.

Fair warning though, the Tornado is no joke.

After a long break to hold down my lunch, I recovered enough to get the beejezus spooked out of me on the haunted coaster. Apologies to Sean for nearly ripping off his poor arm again.

With a long sigh and a sad goodbye, we were off again. Ryan led with his trusty speaker riding shotgun, and we listened as the world passed by to a greatest hits soundtrack of roadtrips songs. Now, having never ventured on such a long bikeride before this in my life, I was genuinely worried about my ability to keep up pace and energy. But for those who are curious and have never tried, I have only the following to say, “Expectations are only for the known. An open mind and the cushy bike seat are all you need.”

With infrastructure designed and used by hundreds of thousands of Danish citizens every year as they journey to their summer houses, these bike tracks are set along the beautiful Danish coastlines, through tiny little hamlets, alongside rose-lined cemeteries, and wooded fairylands. It was an absolute joy and pleasure to spend the day leisurely biking through the countryside.

Before rolling into our 2-night stay in Helsingør, we had to make two final pitstops: the Louisiana Art Museum and a little Italian joint a ways up the road. The Louisiana features a variety of modern art pieces, including photography, sculpture, graphic design, landscape, performance art, and more. Unintentionally, myself and a friend found ourselves wandering within the grounds without a ticket stub between us, so I can’t report on the price, dear Roamies (if the Danish police ever read this, I’m sorry, we genuinely didn’t realize until we were ushered out at closing time!). However, I can report on the surrealism of the exhibits. If you’re not one for modern art, it’s certainly a skip-worthy destination. But if you’ve ever been the person to stand in front of a bunch of colored lines and wonder what could possibly make such a piece worth millions, I invite you to experience the Louisiana yourself. You might just find a little clarity in the blurred line between reality.

Even intrepid adventures get a little hungry, and so we stopped just an hour from our destination to sample some of Italy’s finest imports. It’s here that I should tell you all a little more about the people I’ve been spending the last few weeks with. Unlike my usual travels, this trip was sponsored by the University of Oregon as part of my Masters programs. Myself and sixteen others are here to study and absorb lessons in urban planning and design. Think of it as a masterclass in 4 short weeks in sustainable urban transit. I’ve spent each and every minute for nearly two weeks with people I’d never met before this trip, from all around the United States, and I can genuinely say I’m changing my opinion about the potential for our country.

For a long time, I’ve always dreamed of living abroad and leading and internationally diverse lifestyle. And I’ve spent every cent of my extra money to ensure that this dream is fully realized. It’s why I’ve worked in impact investing and international development. It’s why I’m pursuing two degrees in business and nonprofit work. I’m preparing to live my life globally after serving my country for four years.

I won’t lie. My time in the service taught me just how narrow-minded and siloed our country can be. It highlighted the inequality of our systems, the savagery of our politics, and the ineptitude of our leadership. It showed me the that places should be measured by the quality of their people, and not by their organization. And coming to Scandinavia and Northern Europe, I see this mentality of people first put into every stich in the societal fabric.

But instead of giving up hope, I now see a collection of energetic minds from multiple generations eager to bring back knowledge and insight change. They aren’t delirious; they see the challenges. They aren’t foolhardy; they know the stakes. But they also have the drive and passion to learn and keep learning; to change and keep changing until our systems aren’t copycats of others but a uniquely American paradise. And I find myself engaged in the conversations about how to help. If you want a powerful example of how to rethink your values to put people first, I encourage you all to visit these magical lands on the edge of the world. For me and a small group of Americans in a pizzeria on the coast of the Baltic Sea, they’ve done so much already.

And it’s not just Denmark I’m speaking of, but Sweden as well. Let’s tell you a little more of the 3 short days I spent there and all that we learned.

We started with an early morning Ferry crossing to Helsingborg, a formerly Danish and now staunchly Swedish town on the other side of the strait. We biked directly off the ferry with not a customs check in sight (god bless the EU). Immediately I noticed that the style of biking changed dramatically: no longer were we in the clear simple rules of the road of Denmark (always unidirectional bike tracks, with simple waiting patterns at short lights that followed existing roadways). Now, we were in Sweden, where bike tracks go both directions and meander their way in squiggly lines wherever they likes. Pedestrians use bike paths as sidewalks, and the bell is by far your most important tool.

In Helsingborg for just a little over 2 hours, myself and a few others climbed the ancient tower of Kärnan, one of the last remnants of Danish rule in the region. Built in 1310 by Eric VI of Denmark, the tower was part of a series of mismanaged projects that sank the country into despair and ruin. However, the tower itself was still standing centuries later and refurbished by the Swedish government in the early 1900s. Luckily for me, this meant a journey to the most beautiful vantage point of the city in full cosplay of a typical lady of the time (there was a dress-up station).

With our short stop complete, it was off to the isle of Ven for a little R&R. Much like Denmark, Sweden has national bike highways that run up and down the country and it’s coast. With a sweet beat and a few more hills than we were used to, we spent the afternoon cruising down the coast of Sweden. My poor Fjallraven backpack, which I bought to replace my crumbling Osprey in Copenhagen, got caught in the spokes of the my touring bike. After some crunching, she emerged unscathed, but I was far behind the group. Luckily, the man with the beats, Jaden, stayed behind to help and I had the pleasure of biking with this young enthusiastic cyclist all the way to Ven. A true artist, Jaden dances and wiggles to his own smooth beats. A deep soul with boundless energy and the unique ability to listen without offering advise, I spent a few lovely hours wowed by a young man with such potential. Another example of that hopeful spirit at work.

With a quick stop for marshmallows and another short ferry ride, we landed on the island of Ven. Right off the coast line, this tiny community of 150 sports excellent cycle paths and restaurants. Both a resort destination and a nature preserve, this little hamlet isle boasts beautiful lavender fields and quiet forest tracks. It’s no wonder it’s such a popular day trip for Swedes. And for a bunch of roadweary travelers, it was the haven we didn’t realize we needed.

For myself especially, I had a minute to stop and reflect on just what this trip was highlighting for me. I’m no stranger to travel Roamies. I’ve been to 40 countries at just 24 years old. I’ve been in and out of relationship, constantly falling for not only beautiful people but beautiful places. But every time I’ve been out, I’ve been alone and wandering without direction. This trip has been uniquely different. It’s been a trip with a purpose, a lens through which I’m seeing society and myself in new ways. I’m seeing the design of the communities I’m in: the simple and safe mentality of the socialist Danish, the casual and stark nature of the Swedes, and the chaotic ease of the Dutch. All designed with their values in mind, all placing social progress before independent development, but all doing it in ways that stem from their own history and culture. It’s made be question: what will I design for my life based on my values? How can I take the lessons of urban design and apply them to my future?

I’ll try to answer this question, at least in part, by the end of this trip. But I found some part of it in wandering Ven at night. I walked a large portion of the island pondering where I am and who I want to be: who I want to bring with me and who I want to leave behind. And the light lapping of waves along the brick beaches reminded me that there’s time enough to think of all these things.

The next day, we were off and running again, making our way down the last 30 mile stretch to Malmö. Myself, my good friends Tenley, Ryan, and Eric took off in the fast crew. It felt good to get out and stretch, to ride with the wind pushing my burning muscles faster and faster. But soon enough, I fell behind the professional grade cyclists running perfect formations in front of me. After an hour and a half trailing slowly behind on the wind-swept expanses, I realized that the desire to move was transitioning into a desire to explore the quiet towns. I took a left when my group took a right, and suddenly, I was on my own in rural Sweden. I think for many this would have been a challenge, but I took it as an opportunity. I never once pulled out my phone; I just began to bike slowly south, always keeping the water on my right-hand side.

Luckily for me, the bike is still primary to the car, even in the large country of Sweden, and no matter the village I found a space for my bike somewhere off the road. I rode silently past windmills and streams, through grassy fields, and along sandy shores. Eventually, I coasted onto a small beach full of windsurfers and sun bathers. With Malmö’s famous Turning Torso tower looking on, I napped in the windy afternoon sunshine. A brief moment alone from the pressures of traveling with 20 people, in a place I found all on my own, I could finally relax.

Rolling into Malmö later in the afternoon, I pulled up to a gorgeous ivy covered concrete eco-hostel. Our first kitchen of the trip, we were stoked to discover it was our intrepid leader Mark’s 50th birthday. With gusto and a whole lot of finger food, we put into practices the concepts of public life that we had been hearing about for weeks and threw a sidewalk party. Mark rode his bicycle, accompanied by giant number balloons, through our hand tunnel; a welcome respite from the general exhaustion such a long ride through can bring.

Now Malmö itself was a different sort of experience. I must admit, after nearly two weeks of travel, all by a mode of transit I was uniquely unfamiliar with and unprepared for, I felt myself zoning out of the world around me. It didn’t help that Malmö has a uniquely wide air. In fact, it reminded me of many of the wider metro areas around the United States (except much, much cleaner). A smaller city, with less that 350,000 inhabitants in it’s greater metro area, Malmö approaches transit much differently than the larger streamlined Denmark. Omnidirectional bike lanes are scattered about, usually in parallel with major roads, but often skirting through parks and specific bike bridges or tunnels.

In case you get lost amongst the wide streets and white/grey architecture, you can always find your way by scouting the Turning Torso. The tallest tower in Scandinavia, this architectural masterpiece is frankly the only interesting element of city design I found in Malmo. The problem with multi-directional lanes is the unique challenge of protecting all transit user at crossings. Without dedicated options always present on both sides of the streets, bicyclists have to cross more often and with less guidance than in the Copenhagen system. With the minimal traffic in the summer months, it was easier, but I found myself less likely to bike alone comfortably in the system.

However, without knocking their infrastructure too much, I must say they have some of the most passion professionals I’ve ever met. The city staff, whom we met with on Monday, were highly knowledgeable individuals who obviously care about their unique role as a suburb of the Danish Copenhagen as a Swedish city. With dedicated bicycle transit positions, I did find Malmö fully capable of messaging effectively to their citizenry, drawing on their position in the Copenhagenize index to stage demonstrations against cars. They also effectively called on classic marketing principles, such as celebrity endorsement, to promote biking. With the added affect of the interconnectivity of Malmö’s transit system to Copenhagen, they can draw on the populace’s easy familiarity with commuting across the water to design parking stations and metro transit that easily allows for bikes as the primary means of access transit (by this I mean, not primary mode, such as car/train, but as the intermediary for smaller trips).

Altogether, a few days of travel in northern Denmark and northern Sweden taught me a tremendous amount about not only my own expectations and views on just how I move around, but on how different my own values could be just after a few days of study. I find myself judging Malmö on Copenhagen and Denmark as an expert after only a week. And I can’t wait to see what the Netherlands has in store to grow my learning even more.