I really thought my first blog entry of 2026 would be about riding the Tour Divide – a race I’ve dreamed about for years. For anyone unfamiliar, it’s an ultra-distance, self-supported bike race following the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, stretching roughly 4,400 km from Canada to the Mexican border. It’s considered one of the toughest and most iconic bikepacking races in the world.
Last summer I moved to Denmark, not long after my most recent entry about an overnighter from Granada in Spain. I got lucky and found a cheap apartment in Copenhagen — far less than London rent — so I actually managed to save a fair bit. The Tour Divide had always felt financially daunting, but suddenly it seemed more doable.
2025 also marks the ten-year anniversary of this blog and the start of my round-the-world bike ride. It felt like the right year for something big. Part of the dream was to race the Tour Divide on my Dawes Galaxy — the same bike that carried me around the world and has probably logged 60–70,000 km by now.
Everything seemed to be lining up. I had a plan-free June, work approved three weeks off, and I’d gotten some big training rides in. I was ready to book the flights when life threw a few big curveballs at me in quick succession, forcing me to park the idea for another year. The GDMBR isn’t going anywhere, at least.
I don’t want to say what those curveballs were just yet, but they meant I had no bikepacking plans at all and was limited to adventures much closer to home. Naturally, I started scheming.
I got married last year, and somehow convinced my wife to celebrate our one-year anniversary with a bikepacking overnighter in Sweden in April. I honestly never thought I’d get this far into a relationship without testing my partner on a long bike ride first, but six years in we’d never managed to make a trip happen.
The Swedish trip was a blast: 80 km up the coast from Malmö over two days. Far shorter and slower than any bike touring I’d done in years. I loved it.
80 km is a bit short to warrant a blog post, but since I broke my own “no overnighters” rule before (with Pico Veleta in Andalucia), I figured I’d write about our foray to Bornholm instead — a Danish island in the Baltic Sea between Sweden, Germany, and Poland.
While this trip isn’t nearly as epic as the Tour Divide would have been, it turned into one of the most enjoyable long weekends I’ve had on the bike in ages. I’ve always believed you don’t have to ride fast or far to have a real adventure on two wheels. That’s the magic of traveling by bike.
We’re in a weird situation in Denmark at the moment: Bella has to travel miles out of Copenhagen to an immigration office and apply for a re-entry permit every time she wants to leave the country. It’s part of the insane process for her residence permit. Danish immigration policy is stricter than we expected, and thanks to Brexit we have no choice but to navigate it. For now, it makes our holidays far simpler if we stay in Denmark.
Bornholm is about as ‘exotic’ as Denmark gets. It’s roughly 150 km southeast of the mainland. The landscape is different too: rockier and hillier, with granite cliffs, dense forests, and rugged northern coasts, unlike the flat, gently rolling mainland. Best of all, you can get there without passing through Sweden. Realistically no one would likely check passports, but it wasn’t worth the risk for Bella. If you head to Køge, just south of Copenhagen, you can take the overnight ferry.
Our trip was a last-minute scramble. On Thursday morning I tried booking the Friday night ferry, only to find the bike spaces were fully booked. Rather than wait an extra day, we booked the ferry for that very evening. My “lunch break” turned into a frantic rush to pack everything for our first campout since moving to Denmark.
The ride down to Køge after work was easy enough. We cycled along EuroVelo 7, which is the same route I cycled in and out of Copenhagen when I was just a month into my round-the-world ride, before this blog even existed.
We had plenty of time for a beer on the harbour in Køge, before catching the ferry which leaves at around midnight and gets in at 6am. There is something that is always exciting about catching a ferry, especially overnight. We’d planned to sleep on the floor somewhere, but found an entire section of flat bunk beds instead — a pleasant surprise, even if we still slept terribly.
6 am is an early start. It reminded me of when I cycled from London to Paris and rolled out of Dieppe in the pouring rain long before any shops were open. But we were luckier in Rønne: the sun was already up and a café was open near the harbour. Good thing the Danes are early risers.
The bike ride around Bornholm is a little over 100 km. We arrived at dawn on Friday and had until 5 pm on Sunday to catch the ferry home. You do the maths. That’s a leisurely tour by anyone’s standards.
Denmark has an amazing network of free shelters and campsites. I’d found a ‘primitive’ campsite on the map after a short ride that looked idyllic — tucked away on a secluded beach. We got there by lunchtime and it was as picturesque as we’d hoped. A small sign said tents were allowed from 6 pm to 10 am, but we pitched up early anyway and caught up on some sleep.
The afternoon was spent exploring the southeast corner of Bornholm, winding through summer house backroads and wandering the sand dunes at Dueodde beach, trying to work up the courage to brave the gusty winds and get in the sea.
The next day we headed up the east coast, through charming little towns like Nexø and Svaneke. Everything seemed fine-tuned for summer tourism, with craft shops and ice-cream parlours everywhere. The steep roads into fishing villages felt a bit like riding in Devon or Cornwall — where you want to see the waterfront but dread the climb back up.
As we continued our anti-clockwise loop, we faced the headwind that had helped us along the south coast the day before. Our eyes were on another dream sleep spot: a picturesque shelter in Tejn right on the waterfront. I tried to manage Bella’s expectations. When I rode the Round Denmark Bike Race, every time I aimed for one of the more charming shelters it was already taken. Many are first-come, first-served, so arriving in the early evening wasn’t ideal.
Sure enough, when we pulled up, both shelters were occupied. One couple had camping chairs and sleeping bags spread out, the other was a family at the communal barbecue. I asked if they were staying the night—and got lucky. They were packing up.
We managed to claim it just in time. Within 20 minutes, two other cycling couples had come by, hoping to snag the same spot.
It was as perfect as it looked. The swim spot was sheltered from the wind, there was a rentable sauna and hot tub, and an open grill. And best of all? A brewery about 50 m away…
It wasn’t surprising so many cyclists were hunting for shelters. Over the weekend we saw all kinds of people travelling on two wheels: lightweight bikepackers, entire families on loaded bikes, and tourers probably using Bornholm as a stop between Sweden and Germany. We also saw plenty of hikers with big backpacks doing the island loop. Our shelter for the night was apparently built by a kayaking society, and they’re spread around the island to support canoeing trips. I’m adding that to the bucket list!
The next day was an easy ride back to Rønne to finish our loop. The official ‘Bornholm rundt’ cycle route cut inland, along gravel tracks through forests and old quarries where climbers were picking lines on granite cliffs. I’d tried to be nice by lending Bella my road bike so she’d have a lighter setup, but she wasn’t too thrilled about the unexpected gravel on steep descents.
I hadn’t been able to find my camping stove when we packed, but since we hadn’t spent a penny on accommodation we didn’t mind treating ourselves to good food along the way. We stopped for lunch at a final ‘røgeri’—one of the traditional smokehouses Bornholm is famous for. They have distinctive white chimneys and a history going back to the 1800s. My last dish was a ‘sol over Gudhjem’: an open sandwich on rye bread with smoked herring and raw egg yolk. Not my usual go-to, but I’d have regretted not trying it..
Hope you’ve enjoyed the read and the photos from Bornholm. It’s my first entry shot with my new camera, which is pretty exciting for me. I’m back to using a compact fixed-lens for the first time since the early days of my round-the-world trip. Thanks to a wedding gift from my in-laws, I finally have one again—and it’s joining me on more rides than ever. Hopefully there will be plenty more to share soon.
JKB's Bike Ride 