The lighthouse (built in 1878, next to an earlier version) closed for the day shortly before we arrived, which means we couldn’t go up to take in the view or admire the Frensel lens which, apparently, is still in use. (We’ve seen a number of Frensel lenses in various places in the states over the years, so I have a bit of a soft spot for them.) Below the lighthouse are views of the ocean (and a beach far below), but mostly the scenery is pastoral farmland, with apples and other fruit trees and critters that wonder what we are doing out here as a storm approaches.
We reach Højerup under threatening skies – it’s a lovely little community and I would love to spend time exploring it, but the rain will be here soon and there is an ancient church and the cliff itself to see before the rain begins!
Apparently this is a major tourist destination in this part of Denmark, as we find a large pay-to-exit parking lot outside a small museum and the churches that sit atop the cliff at the edge of Højerup.
The picturesque cottage is, apparently, not original to the site, but it is quaint and lovely.
Højerup’s “Old Church” was built in the 13th century at what was thought to be a safe distance from the cliff and is reputed to move a “cock-stride” inland each Christmas night. None-the-less, the church was closed in 1910 and, in 1928, the chancel and part of the cemetery fell into the sea.
Despite the threatening skies (I know it doesn’t look so stormy in the photos, but trust me, there was a huge dark cloud moving in at a good pace), I dash over to the nearby “New Church,” which was constructed in 1912-13 of chalk with belts of flint (in imitation of the cliff). It’s a striking structure in what is probably best described as a neo-Romanesque style. . .so it looks older than it is.