So the tall ships, although beautiful, turned out to be a rather sedate affair. The hotel reception shuts early on a Saturday (???) so the newbike was securely locked in the bicyle shed. I walked up to Skive instead and found the 'Potten' bar - next to the old town hall - it used to be the town toilets, hence the name, and is long and thin with about a hundred chamber pots hanging from the rafters, including one behind the bar with Hitler's face at the bottom. I meet the mechanics from Friday night and a few locals including some school teachers who re-inforce what I've been told about people insulating their houses and everyone generally being more aware of energy over here. But then I also meet some lairy drunk lads who do the 'Wha??! Wha? arrrgh that's a load of bollocks, feckin hippies' thing which I've seen a thousand time in the UK. If they have the Sport over here, I know they read it. There's a good guitarist though with a nice voice doing covers. I get up and dance, despite being the only one. Down the road The 'John Bull English pub' lives up to it's name so I come back to the harbour.
Today there's still some wind but the sun is shining from a blue sky and I'm cycling to Viborg for my first ever couchsurf.
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