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\u00c2\u00a0<\/p>\nHans Aas had told us that tall ships might be passing by while we were at his home and the last day after we had packed the car I walked out back to take a last look at the salt water half a mile from his home. Sure enough a line of tall ships was strung out along the lake.<\/p>\n
We drove down to the small town of Hvapslund where a peninsula forced the ships near the shore and watched the procession go by.<\/p>\n
\u00c2\u00a0<\/p>\n
We weren’t the only ones looking on. People sat along the coast watching the tall ships pass by including this clutch of bikers who were waiting for a ferry to cut through the race and take them to the other side of the lake.<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
We crossed Limsfjord with the bikers and continued following the tall ships for another 20 miles until we broke from the Limsfjord.<\/p>\n
At our last stop, the\u00c2\u00a0old Viking town of Ribe, we stayed at a quaint old hotel the Dagmar. We were assigned the Bridal suite where the ancient canopied bed was so short that Claudia volunteered to sleep on a divan so I could sleep diagonally across the bed.<\/p>\n
At\u00c2\u00a0the hotel we had a chance to watch television in English once again. We watched a little CNN but I went to bed watching a German movie in German without\u00c2\u00a0any English subtitles. I’d read about the movie a few years ago. It was a portrayal\u00c2\u00a0of\u00c2\u00a0Adolph Hitler’s last days in\u00c2\u00a0his Berlin\u00c2\u00a0Bunker as the Russians stormed the city. Even without subtitles I knew the story well enough that my\u00c2\u00a0dearth of\u00c2\u00a0German was no handicap.<\/p>\n
The next day we flew home.<\/p>\n