The Finish Line

To Bjärred, Sweden -- 41.3 miles, 14.8 mph, 1300 ft -- Day 1

As usual, our belongs had exploded all over the hotel room. For the last time this year, we stuffed our things into the red and yellow bike panniers, carried them down the steep staircase, and loaded them onto the bikes. I had suggested breakfast out -- to celebrate our last riding day and to give us another chance to see a bit of Copenhagen. Meg had found a popular spot called the "Next Door Cafe," so we mapped the route and started rolling.

It was a real treat having bacon, eggs, and pancakes in the eclectic little cafe.

Afterwards, we decided to see the Little Mermaid statue, the iconic symbol for Copenhagen.  I had no idea the little thing was such a huge attraction; there were no fewer than five tour buses in the parking lot. Really, it was pretty dang underwhelming, so we decided to skip fighting the crowds for a close-up look and just continued on. I did let Meg know, though that, having seen it, my life was now complete. What's more, we were actually a novel enough sight with fully loaded tandems that a half dozen Korean tourist asked to have their pictures taken with us.

Now, the only thing left to do was head back towards the airport, where we'd catch the train through the 2.5-mile tunnel and over the 5-mile bridge to cross the Oresund Strait into Sweden. I, unfortunately, messed up spending an extra 100 crowns ($15) for our tickets, but otherwise, it was a painless exercise purchasing them, wheeling our bikes down the moving walkway, and boarding the train. Good bye, Denmark; hello, Sweden. Incredibly, this was the very first time our passport had been checked since we landed in Portugal more than two months (and seven countries) ago.

Copenhagen airport

Crossing the Straight

The final 12 miles of riding started by zig-zagged through a bunch of high-rise housing developments and then into the downtown of Malmo. Despite the short ride ahead of us, we stopped to refuel at the Coop grocery store and ate a quick snack in the town square across the street.

The rest of ride followed the western coast featuring rural farmland, small towns, and distant views of Copenhagen. I had no idea Björn’s house was so close to the water. In hindsight, however, the address of “West Coast Street” (Vastkustvagen) should have been a clue. It was apropos that we missed the house on the first pass, biking directly behind it on the small path only to realize our mistake a mile later before coming back on the main road.

Kylie excitedly yelped when seeing an American flag across the street, before we all noticed the hand-painted banner across the driveway. The blast of an air horn and shouts of greeting confirmed we had indeed found the right spot. How awesome it was to see the whole Lindquist family -- Bjorn, Annica, Oscar, Adam, and Emily -- all there to greet us at the end of our long journey. Meg, once again, had tears in her eyes.

The bikes were quickly stashed in the garage and the bags put in the spare bedroom. We were treated to champagne and a wonderful meal of barbecued salmon, boiled potatoes, green salad and corn on the cob. I hardly felt we deserved it given our easy last day, but we were hungry and extremely grateful nonetheless. The kids and I took a quick swim in the pool before Meg was whisked away by Annica to a Zumba class.  She has been missing her normal Swedish exercise partner, Tina, since leaving home. Now, all was right in the world once more.

The big event for the evening was a short drive to Landskrona, for an open-air concert featuring a 17-year-old Swedish singing sensation, Frans. He had become famous at the age of ten for an endearing rendition of a song idolizing Sweden's premier soccer player, Zlatan Ibrahimovic.

It was a fun concert with a large contingent of families. Afterwards, we walked to the nearby shore to watch the sunset, before heading back home...and, of course, a late evening snack.