I was bemused to see yet another discussion in the Danish news media about the exodus from the land to the city. Tens of thousands of Danish rural homes wont sell despite repeated price reductions and years of being on the market. The mortgage lenders are making trillions from the low interest rates but will not lend to potential buyers.
The first commentator below the news piece summed it up perfectly: Heavily subsidised, factory farmers waging biological and chemical warfare on the remaining, defenceless rural inhabitants and their children. Using weapons grade pig-shit mixed with industrial strength perfume, the nauseating stench can be smelt indoors and out for months on end. The roads are covered in deep mud as vast, filthy, stinking tankers plough their way up and down the rural roads. Huge, converted shipping containers sit beside rural lanes with roaring diesel engines constantly churning the slurry between being endlessly refilled from dedicated tankers. Just to save a shit spreading tanker journey back to the vast circular slurry ponds found literally everywhere in the Danish landscape. There are more pig slurry tanks in Denmark than craters on the Moon!
When they are not spreading stinking pig-shit they are endlessly spraying their monoculture crops in a roaring gale. Or cutting down trees and hedges to make ever larger prairies further devoid of wildlife. To be worked by imported, dirt-cheap labour using massive machinery which often dwarfs the entire road width. So that the tyres are literally running along both verges simultaneously. The usually young, Eastern European farm workers control these huge vehicles with one hand. As they constantly abuse their hand-held mobile phones in direct contradiction of the law. No doubt their illegally low, slave wages do not allow for a hands-free system.
You think I exaggerate? Every item of clothing we wear stinks of pig slurry. Hanging clothing outside to dry is impossible for months on end. Just as it is completely impossible to open windows to air the house. Just walking outside to the postbox is enough for clothing to become contaminated by the stench. My assorted cycling clothing goes through the wash cycle after every ride but I still smell like an [ol]factory farmer worker!
The headwind wasn't too bad as I headed SW. I had made the mistake of swapping back to the Brooks and it felt like a bed of rocks! I replaced it with the Vetta as soon as I returned. 17 miles.
Friday 27th 42F, 6C, overcast, misty, spitting with rain. A longer walk through the woods. Saw my first Wagtail for this year. A huge flock of Wood pigeons out on a field. There must have been several hundred. Saw two cyclists out training.
Rode 7 miles so far but going out again after lunch. Very light winds but heavy overcast and spitting. Plus another ten miles. Rode to a supermarket for five things. Came back with one! No stock. A psychopath blasted me with his horn as he passed at twice the legal speed limit in a village towing a large trailer full of logs. His basic human right to exceed the speed limit in Denmark obviously exceeded my right to survival. But then, 90%+ of vehicles travel through this village at well above the speed limit. No police, no speed cameras, no crime committed.