The usual night’s sleep and semi-sleep, waking at night with every movement of the ship magnified by the dark, my horizontal position and dreaminess, my heart in my mouth with every pitch and roll until I finally roll back to sleep. After a buffet breakfast for £12 there is only two hours till we dock. Out on the sundeck again I watch the back of the ship, the ramp we drove in on, now vertical, rise and fall against the sealine. The sky is patchy blue, auguring well for good weather for the journey to Odense.
There is not much to say about the passportless disembarkation and the ride on the boring E20 to get to Odense, other than that the hospital complex where I am staying is close to the exit of the motorway, my GPS led me to park exactly outside the door to this former old people’s home (according to Niels) where my room is up in the third floor attic.

My motorcycling fantasy has come true in that I was able to ride straight into a building through wide opening doors, the large lockable brick bike shed where I can leave Bertha