Guest Blog: Bike-packing across Scandinavia at 64 (Days 7 and 8)

Day 7: Helsingborg, Sweden (0 miles, 203 total miles)

13 June 2024: Thursday

Sweden is about the size of California with one quarter of the population. So, very, very sparsely populated. 

In my first year of college at IU, my political science professor always lauded the policies and practicalities of social democracies of Europe: Sweden, Denmark, Norway, and Finland. Sure, he argued, taxes are high, but then you don’t have to pay for health care, university education, and many other things. 

Sweden’s taxes have reduced over the past several years. The average income tax today is 33 percent for individuals. Earners below a certain threshold pay no taxes, and earners above a certain threshold pay an additional 20 percent state tax. Capital gains is only 30 percent. For profit on property, you pay 22 percent. There is no inheritance tax. Corporate tax is 20 percent. 

The cost of living in Sweden is lower than the UK, France, Germany, Denmark, and many other countries. Consumer prices are 13% lower than the US.

Christian insists that the investments in free university education pay for themselves in many way. A better trained workforce in increased productivity, entrepreneurship, and technological breakthroughs. 

In the US, the average tax rate of just under 15% plus a state tax of, say Indiana, of 3%. Plus over 9 % for FICA and Medicare. Then an average of 8.5 % for health insurance and an additional 5 % out of pocket costs. Already, you are at 45.5 %. Add in college and vocational technical education for ourselves or our children. 

Suffice it to say, our health care system in the US is broken. No senior citizens should lose their home to pay for health care after working and saving all of their lives. 

I know there is a better way.

This morning, I slept in till 5:15 am. It felt great. 

Down at the lobby, there is a nice lounge. With coffee. Yesterday, I got a cup of coffee to warm up and later when I returned from my meal, two young girls in their 20s were playing chess there. Really cool. 

This morning, I walked down the stairs and poured myself a cup of coffee. Before tasting it, I met Helen. Scared her really. 

“Oh, that is old,” the 52-year old Swedish cook told me. “Come with me.”

I followed her to the dining area. She was busy making coffee and laying out the breakfast spread. Breakfast is not until 6:30 am.

“Here give me that.” She took my old cup of coffee, poured fresh coffee in a new cup, and handed it to me. 

“It is strong.”

“I like it strong,” I told her.

When I got back to my table in the lounge and started typing, I realized I didn’t like it that strong. 

She stopped and said, “I forgot to ask you, ‘How did you sleep?’”

“I slept very well.” And I had.

Another sip, and I realized I needed more water. So I went back to the dining area and added water.

“The first cup of coffee is always strong,” she said.

I went back into the dining area and ask if I could take a selfie with her.

“Yes,” she said, sitting down a tray, “but I am not adorable.”

“You’re adorable,” I reassured her and snapped the shot.

After breakfast, I turned in my clothes to be washed. Big mistake. The bill came back at $100. Some 30% more than the hotel room. 

I checked out the system for loading a bike on the ferry. I just take it with all the cars and motorcycles. Then, I roamed around downtown. Saw the beautiful city hall with its clocktower, walked the terrace stairs, and took photos of St. Mary’s church dating back to the 1300s. I bought some much needed sunglasses. Treated myself to a free danish and Dixie cup of coffee. And ate a Bastard Burger. 

At room, I streamed The Boys and napped. I went back out in the afternoon and bought a sausage and sauerkraut sandwich, which was the best thing I have eaten here along with the kids’ meatballs and pies. 

I tried to read two Danish novels, but neither of them could keep my interest. I dozed off at 8:45 pm. 

It was a good day. 

Day 8: Helsingor, Denmark (7 miles, 210 total miles)

14 June 2024: Friday

When I was about five or six, we lived on W. Bridge Street in Brownstown, Indiana. I had started nursery school or kindergarten, I think. I remember Mom playing games with me, baking me brownies. I felt very happy. 

One day, I was sitting in the living room, and my brother Darren was walking with a drum stick (to a toy drum). He must have been two or three years old, and as kids tend to do at that age, he stuck the drum stick in his mouth. The door to the basement was open, and he tripped going down the stairs.

I remember the chaos that ensued. Dad carried Darren up the stairs. The stick was lodged in the back of his throat. When Dad pulled it out, blood gushed. Darren was crying, mom was panicking, I was frightened. My parents packed Darren and our infant brother in the car, rushed me to the Lutheran minister’s house next door, and drove off to the emergency room. That was the first time that I had any clue that I was color blind. The minister’s daughter told me that I had two different color socks on. 

I was worried about Darren, but he was OK. He came home that night. That is my first memory of Darren. I don’t remember much else, except the minister was blind or eventually went blind. On that or another occasion, I remember he was wearing sun glasses. I asked Mom why he wore sun glasses if he was blind. She explained that he wanted to cover his eyes so that others couldn’t see that they had gone white. 

In February, I walked past that house while visiting my aunt. I wanted to go knock on the door and ask to see the interior. See if it could stimulate any other memories. 

At 4:30 am this morning, I woke up. I heated some water in the room and made instant coffee, added milk, and Splenda. 

I have a bit of a relaxed day planned. Pay my $100 laundry bill, check out around 10am, ride down to the ferry (they leave every 20 minutes and take 20 minutes to cross), pay, get on, ride over to the Danish side, get a SIM card—if necessary—ride to the room. Check in. Maybe ride around a little. Try to find a good book. Enjoy my day. 

Doors open outwards in Sweden. Originally, there were double doors, much like storm doors in the US, designed to serve as a weather buffer. Over the years, contractors apparently eliminated the interior door (that opens inward) to save homeowners money, leaving only the outer door. Even in hotels, you will find the doors open outward. 

The Swedes are very energy conscious. They typically heat the hot water only to the temperature required for bathing. Actually, if the hot water is the right temperature, you need not use any cold water mix when showering. Hot water pipes are often run in the bathroom floors to heat the floor. No additional cost. Stores have huge revolving doors to conserve energy. More and more hotels have motion detectors for lights. The first hotel I was in had a timer for the coffee maker outlet. Maximum 30 minutes. There are many electric cars, windmills, and solar power systems (both private and industrial). 

Before I left, Helen came from across the lobby to hug me and say, Good-bye. During breakfast, I heard her enthusiastically speaking with other guests. She just loves life. And loves her job. Go girl!

I mounted Heidi about 9 am. I couldn’t wait any longer. We rode a few blocks to the port, where I met Lina, a young woman who sat in a small booth collecting for cars and one bicycle access to the ferry. My ticket cost 79 Kronor ($7.50). She told me to go to line 2, which was empty. After a fifteen-minute wait at the front of the line, a second young woman flagged me to proceed to the ferry, I rode forward into the belly of the ferry, but some haughty electric scooter rider passed me. 

I parked once again at the front—beside scooter boy—and laid Heidi down. There was no place to lean her, nor lock her. I walked up into the passenger lounge, then onto the deck, where I looked out at the Straight of Oredund. I took a photo for a family of four. Then went back down to the lobby and bought a coffee and a cookie. Seemed like no sooner had we started, than they announced our pending arrival.  

Scooter boy and I were the first ones off, but very quickly cars and semis passed us. 

Once out of the port and into the streets of Helsingor, I soon realized that my Swedish SIM card didn’t work. So, for an hour, I dashed around from a Shell station to a Coop 365 Discount store (much like Dollar General) to a second Coop 365 that I couldn’t find to finally a gas station near the hotel for the next hour. The young man and young woman helped me purchase a Danish SIM card and charge it to give me 60 gig. Should be enough for a week. I hope to cross over into Norway next weekend. 

The Hotel Sleep2Night is a motel. Perhaps the first I have seen in Scandinavia. Both the manager Jacob and the owner greeted me. They joked around. They were amused with my bike riding at my age. Jacob held my bike up the entire time that I checked in.

On the issue of being the second happiest people on earth and the Finns being the first, Jacob said that both countries consume the most coffee on the planet. So maybe that had something to do with it. He told me that the Finnish do the Tango, as a result of an exodus of people from South America moving there many years ago. He encouraged me to find a night club while there and dance the Tango with them.