30 Day Writing Challenge · Blogging · challenge · Denmark · Me myself and I · Thoughts · Travel

Dear Claus…



Dear Claus,

You probably don’t remember me. A little over four years ago, our paths crossed ever so briefly. Yet, the memory of you still lingers in the back of my mind every now and then. I know, it sounds corny, but it is true.

That day, I was up with the sun, and hopped on an early bus, heading to Møn Island. Mønsklint had been on my to-do list for years, and traveling for the first time through Denmark, I just had to see the chalk white cliffs.

After a quick bus change in a little village, Stege if my memory doesn’t fail me, I enjoyed a private ride through the countryside. A little scared that I wouldn’t step off the bus at the right stop (I wasn’t comfortable yet with Danish villages’ complicated names, for a French Canadian girl), I sat by the bus driver and explained where I was going, asking if he could let me know when we would reach my stop.

When he dropped me, I thanked him with my best smile, and I walked for a while. I was in Klintholm, a harbour village, and there were no high cliffs in view. I walked back and forth, realizing that the mix between the bus driver’s second language English and mine hadn’t worked as expected. I was lost.

In Denmark, but still…

And that’s when I spotted you. You were sitting in front of one of these cute little houses by the water. There was a woman with you. I remember thinking she was ageless. It was intimidating to make contact… It was the first time I needed help, since the beginning of this first solo trip in years. But I did need it, so I prepared my best Danish greetings, and I walked your way. Klintholm probably didn’t receive many foreigners at that time of year, and you welcomed me quite warmly.

We chit chatted for a couple of minutes, and before I knew it, you were offering to drive me to Mønsklint. I knew that accepting a stranger’s lift wasn’t usually a good call, but I had a good feeling about you. I accepted the offer and off you were, to get your SUV’s keys.

It was only ten, maybe fifteen minutes from Klintholm to Mønsklint, but you had enough time to give me an impressive lecture about the island’s history. I couldn’t believe my luck, as we rode along the coast. I remember thinking it was no wonder you were called Claus… Like Santa.

We got to Mønsklint’s Geocenter too quick to my liking. I took my backpack from the backseat of your SUV, and we waved goodbye.

You probably thought you had just done a good deed. But it was much more than that. It was my first proof that Danes are just amazing people, well, most of them. Up to this day, I tell people the story of how we chance encountered, and how you helped me before I even thought of asking you.

I was on a tight schedule, and you saved the day. Without your offer, I wouldn’t have had the chance to see the amazing cliffs. And I’ll always be grateful for that.

I hope you’re safe and well… And in a selfish way, I hope you remember the Canadian girl that thumbled in Klintholm by mistake that day. Probably not, but who knows?

Best wishes,

The crazy Denmark loving Canadian gal. xx



Is there anyone you’d like to write a letter to?

If you’d like to read Marquessa’s letter for today’s challenge, click here.


3 thoughts on “Dear Claus…

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