SKAGEN, Denmark - Disembarking from the 30-minute flight from Copenhagen to Aalborg Airport in North Jutland province, I saw a wiry gent with white hair holding a sign with my name. I had splurged on the services of a driver for four hours on each of the two days I was to be at the northernmost tip of the country and Kaj (pronounced "ky") proved an able guide.
As we made our way to Skagen, about 50 miles north, I asked him about "hygge" (pronounced "hue-ga").
"Well . . . it's the family, around the table, having wonderful conversation," Kaj said. "With a fire in the fireplace. And candles lit, lots of candles."
"I see . . . so warmth is important in hygge?" I said.
"Noooo . . .," he replied. "A snowball fight can be hygge."
My tutorial was tabled as we turned into the nearly empty parking lot of Rabjerg Mile, a huge expanse of undulating sand dunes 12 stories high and more than a half-mile square. They are easily accessible and open to the curious.
Kaj and I climbed the massive sand pile, laughing as we battled the strong wind that has been slowly moving this patch of earth for more than 700 years. It was an exhilarating hike to the top and as we caught our breath, Kaj pointed for me to look back. Our footsteps were already being erased by the wind.
According to biologist Poul Lindhart, the projection of land known as the "Skaw," which includes both Skagen and Rabjerg Mile about 12 miles to its south, first formed during the Ice Age. The dunes on the west coast of this promontory were initially covered with vegetation, but the effects of the Little Ice Age of the 1500s, combined with overgrazing by livestock, stripped them of the plant life that anchored them in place.
Thus began a massive migration by the dunes of more than a half mile between the 1300s, when the area was first settled, and the late 1700s. While other sandy areas of the Skaw have been planted since the 1830s to prevent such drifting, the Rabjerg Mile is allowed to go where the breeze takes it. It is heading eastward toward the Baltic Sea at an annual rate of 16 to 22 yards.
Kaj later deposited me at Skagen's picturesque harbor. The seafood restaurants adorning the former fish warehouses rimming the bay were mobbed with sun-burned Danes enjoying the summer day. After lunch I headed to Grenen, meaning "branch," the very tip of the "Top of Denmark," as the area is also known.
