We are going to spend some time (a little, not enough I’m sure) on the island of Møn. None-the-less, we have also decided to visit the white cliffs of Stevns Klint south of Copenhagen on the island of Zealand. Someone along the way marked the best area on our map and now we find ourselves in search of the coast via little tiny rural roads running through peaceful agricultural areas.
We have been moving between rainstorms, but the sun is trying to shine when we arrive at Stevns Fyr (lighthouse) near Store Heddinge.
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.
It provides an impressive view of the sea and the white cliffs.
The interior is rendered dark and a little spooky by the rapidly advancing rain.
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.
I love the simple interior with just a touch of elaborate trim, the while walls glowing dimly while the rain pounds against the leaded windows. It truly feels like a sanctuary.