Bornholm is an amazing place to visit, and I highly recommend going to the Hammershus ruins, but it was in the second day that I truly was enchanted. The town of Gudhjem is beautiful, with orange tile roofs, houses with shining black paint trim, and rocky terrain going up the hill it rests on. It is right by the sea, and which you can hear breathing in the early morning air. At the top of the hill it is built on a single flagpole waves the Danish flag, visible from almost anywhere in the town, that hill called to me, but more on that later. My parents and I traversed through the town exploring the places my mother had seen yesterday (for she had not joined us on our trip to Hammershus). We went out by the sea and saw waves whirling into the rocky docks and splashing into walls of foam against the sky, we went up a spiraling pavement path past houses with rock walls and hedgerows, and around back down to the street. We climbed part way up the hill and got to the church, and moved across its grassy field to the edge of the drop, where you can see the town laid out before you.
We then went past the church and got to a graveyard, although it was not like any graveyard I’ve seen in the states: There were no rows of sad grey graves alone behind iron gates, no- this graveyard’s gate was made of wood, and was half open beckoningly. Inside, each grave was unique, and each was a polished stone which read the names of loved ones now gone.There were flowers and vines all about, and the yard felt more like a garden then a cemetery. It was beautiful.
After that expedition we went out down the path to the rocky outcroppings at the edge of the sea. I sprang away and went as far as I dared on the rocks and looked out into the grey-blue sea. Suddenly the waves began to roar and I could see them crashing against the rocks in front of me. I had gone as far as I dared, and for a moment I wondered if my daring had gone to far, but I hopped away off the rocks back to a safe distance from the tumbling turmoil.
The rocky hill we were on was beautiful. Jutting out from the town it was visible all across the shoreline. Figures who stood there could be seen as silhouettes against the light sky. There I met my parents again briefly, and then I was off- down a path which had caught my eye earlier. I ran and ran, only stopping to make way for other travelers, or to take a photo of the rocky shoreline. I often climbed on the stony outcroppings to my left and right, and I ran and ran just seeing where to road would take me.
The rocky terrain and fresh air from the sea called to me, and I felt truly happy running across the cliffs of the shoreline. My journey ended as I reached a trailer park though, for those beautiful cliffs made way into a field, and I felt it was time to turn back.
My adventures were not over yet though. That evening I found stairs that lead to the top of the hill- where the flagpole with the Danish flag calls above the town. There were blackberry bushes by the path, which bees buzzed over. There, at end of the path, was a single wooden gate, and past it was a beautiful rocky park in which stood the flagpole. Unsure if I was allowed to enter, I returned to my parents and conferred. After a brief discussion, I returned to the path and made my way back to the gate. I entered. The park at the top of the hill was a wonder, and as I climbed up to the flagpole I had to stop myself from looking at the town, for I had decided that I wasn’t going to view Gudhjem again until I reached the summit. The journey was short, and around the flagpole was a bench which had the perfect view of the town:
That place was beautiful, and although I feel a longing to go back, I must realize that maybe some things are better seen once, and maybe that’s what makes them so magical.