Season II - Langen => Sandskaer Strandcamping

Good morning from Sandskaer Strandcamping!

Yes, dear people. You are reading correctly. We are on the road again. However, not everything is the same as it was in the autumn of 2024.

After returning to the home garage, the Militaria-Benz eventually got bored. It desired more attention and recognition. Until then, it had led a rather conservative and dull life with the occasional small outing to nature or a gravel road. It felt that it was meant for more than just being cobbled together from sheets of metal and screws. The urge for adventure in the vast off-road world grew stronger. One day it became clear to Captain Kadir; a transformation was needed.

Thus, the olive-green bomber got acquainted with the endless expanses of Saxony and the production hall of Overland Equipment. After eight weeks, the lifting was completed, and the vehicle transformed into a Special-Force-Benz.

Various additional headlights, sand tracks, a winch, roof racks, a chassis optimization, and several running boards and boxes for extra storage were installed. More on these steel boxes later…

On the afternoon of July 28, we gathered in Langen to load up the vehicle together. But what was that as I rolled through the gate on my motorcycle towards the beloved motorhome wreck? Along with a dent in the hood, the right of the two additional headlights was slightly askew. As I learned after our greeting and my inquiry, one of the DEKRA specialists had rolled into the olive-green monster with another motorhome during the inspection process. Why do we all almost never hear good or funny stories about TÜV and DEKRA people for decades?

Tim, who passed by on his walk, grabbed a pair of pliers and an old rag. While I pulled on the headlight, he tried with his rudimentary tools to straighten the bent bracket at least a little. After all, we need to present the expected reindeer and bears in the right light.

On Tuesday morning, we packed our personal belongings into the vehicle, and after Kühne&Nagel had delivered four 4m short beams for the stage at S.'s place, the entrance and exit were finally clear, and we could set off. Off to the next adventure, after the last one had to come to a rather sudden end last autumn. But: Gürtelrosi is now just the regular Rosi, the Benz is a Marine, and Kadir is simply Kadir.

We put a few liters of AdBlue into the engine and opted for the shorter ferry route to the north. Driving through the Elbe tunnel was not an option. “You always get stuck in traffic there.”

After leaving Debstedt-Downtown behind, it became evident that the captain hadn't forgotten any of his driving skills. He expertly maneuvered the now slightly wider and heavier Benz through the two curves in Cuxland. Just before Wischhafen, traffic slowed down a bit, and a few seconds after we noticed it, we came to a stop. According to Google Maps, we would expect a delay of 28 minutes. Easy. And since it was dark red before the Elbe tunnel, we were already pleased with our decision again.

When we first spotted the ferry terminal two hours and 38 minutes later, we were still in great spirits, as were all the metalheads who were obviously on their way to Wacken. Unlike before the Elbe tunnel, there were toilets and a snack bar here, from which we treated ourselves to the second and third best fish sandwiches in Northern Germany.

The crossing was a breeze, and we rolled on towards the north without any significant incidents. Passing Itzehoe (where we briefly wavered over whether it would be sensible to make a detour to Wacken), Husum, and Flensburg, we headed towards the border to Denmark. We were already happy here that we would have absolutely nothing to do with any country groups today or in the following days - readers inclined to recall these nerve-wracking situations from the first season.

The border crossing was undoubtedly not in line with Merz and Co.'s intentions. No officials in sight. During the drive, we had thoroughly discussed all the pros and cons of a parking space on the west coast compared to that of a space on the east coast. In the end, the weather oracle decided. So we aimed directly for the Sandskaer Strandcamping.

A relatively large and well-kept campsite awaited us. We allowed the pleasant-looking lady at the reception the last bite of her dinner and then learned from her that she only had one (1) pitch available. However, one night costs as much as two nights. “It’s not my policy,” she apologized, but her smile and the fragrance that surrounded her had already made us internally book the one overnight stay.

When we settled into our spot 214, every gesture still fit. As a team, we had not forgotten anything. The captain took care of the electricity while I positioned the leveling ramps correctly. This allowed Kadir to park the bomber level and then we could extend the awning and set up the table and chairs. The welcome drink was already waiting in the fridge for its turn. But then it happened: I bent down for a chair, and the open steel door of the new storage box was right in line with my head. Klonk! A cut later, I looked like my grandfather, who had repeatedly bumped his head on the kitchen cabinet. Since a captain is always also the ship's doctor, it quickly became clear that no sewing kit would be necessary.

The Beck’s we brought served their purpose while we looked out at the Baltic Sea. Since it was already quite late, we had a small but fine snack including Marabou variation for dessert.

Shortly thereafter, we said goodbye to our various sleeping quarters to enjoy our first night in Denmark and be fit for the upcoming adventures.

Good night, my treasure