After my reward I continued the route on the east coast, and while looking for a shelter I stumbled upon Jerup Shelterplads — the closest one to the beach I’d seen on the whole trip. The east coast probably isn’t as wild as the west. Hidden in the dunes, I saw the wooden structures pop up, the outlines of half a dozen camper vans, and the lively sound of people chatting and children playing. No silent retreat in nature this night, and I was happy about it. The weather looked slightly dramatic — rain and lots of lightning — though fortunately, as is common in Denmark, it settled into light showers and some thunder around 02:00. My neighbours were a jolly bunch of Danish-Indonesians, delighted to learn more about Indonesian people living in the Netherlands. They were from Aceh, practically the opposite end of the country from where most Indonesian-Dutch families come from: the Maluku islands. One of them also knew about the Javanese diaspora in Suriname, and we had a little conversation about that too. Unfortunately their limited English and my practically non-existent Bahasa Indonesia wouldn’t let us go further into such an interesting subject. Jerup beach was my favourite shelter so far — each tent could hide in its own little spot in the dunes, barely 20 meters from the water. A last coffee on the beach, and the forecast looked very rainy. It started as I was packing up the last bits of the tent. From Tolne I took the train to Aalborg, where I’ll slowly assimilate back into the urban setting after eight days away from it.