cold

Denmark’s ‘Cold Hawaii’: the artfully cool surf zone on the Jutland coast | Denmark holidays

The North Sea wind is buffeting my body and face, shaking me awake after a six-hour journey from Copenhagen on buses and trains to this rugged stretch of the Danish coast. From my high vantage point on the grassy dunes, overlooking what feels like an endless sea, there is hardly another soul to be seen, save for the specks of a few surfers who are trying their luck on the crashing waves.

Surfers, windsurfers and paddleboarders flock to this stretch of north-west Jutland, which is playfully known as “Cold Hawaii”. The phrase was coined in the 1990s by the international surfing community, and popularised by world champion windsurfer Josh Stone, to describe this laid-back shoreline and its 31 official surf spots running for around 30 miles (50km) from a little north of the industrial harbour of Hanstholm down to the sandy beaches of Agger.

Unlike tropical Hawaii, however, the European version is lined with the heathlands, dunes and forest of the Thy national park. The weather is also brisker – you’d be loath to spend long in the water here without a wetsuit to keep you warm.

The wild beauty of the coastline feels markedly different to the largely agricultural landscape I have come to know in the several years I’ve lived in Denmark. Cold Hawaii has been recommended to me countless times as somewhere a little more under the radar than the popular resorts on the north coast of Zealand, or Skagen on the northern tip of Jutland. It’s not easy to reach Thy by public transport and, once here, the patchy local bus service makes it far easier to explore by car. For that reason, Cold Hawaii has remained something of a local secret, and there’s a strong sense of community here even in winter, when all the summer houses sit empty.

The dunes of Thy national park. Photograph: Stephen J Taylor/Getty Images

On a sun-drenched afternoon in early spring, with the tourist season yet to begin, the surf schools and ice-cream shops are still quiet. Driving into Klitmøller – the unofficial centre of Cold Hawaii, which hosts an annual international surfing competition – there are hints of how the area has transformed into a surfers’ paradise over recent decades. As well as surf shops and schools, there’s a wine bar, a spa and a co-working space on the main street. Several artists are based in the area, too, including the internationally renowned Jeppe Hein.

It’s a similar story in the nearby seaside town of Vorupør, where I’m staying at the Vorupør Badehotel. It is an expansion of the original Vø Surfshop, opened by Peter Joseph Jensen and Sigrid Bruun Jakobsen in 2011; another couple joined them to open the hotel in 2023. My bubblegum-pink room is nestled in the eaves with huge windows looking out to sea and a freestanding tub (a luxury for a Copenhagener like me). In cosy Danish fashion, there’s a shoes-off-at-the-door policy.

Standing on Vorupør beach between anchored fishing boats, I’m joined by families enjoying strolls in the blustery wind and dappled sunshine – it’s that time of the year when Denmark emerges from the winter gloom and everyone rushes to be outside as much as possible. Not so long ago, Vorupør was a quiet fishing village, but in recent years it has become increasingly popular with Danish, German and Belgian tourists, giving rise to a flurry of new places to stay, restaurants and boutiques.

One notable addition, not far down the coast, is the restaurant Tri. The founder and head chef, Nicolas Min Jørgensen, earned a Michelin star just a year after opening in 2022, winning acclaim for a hyperlocal approach to produce and menu-planning. The flavours of the sea, Thy national park and the nearby Limfjord, which cuts through northern Denmark, are evident in the mussel broth and seaweed, smoked roe butter and magnolia flowers that feature on the menu.

Vorupør Badehotel, located on the waterfront

During dinner, Jørgensen waves to fisher René, who harvested the first shrimps of the season from the Limfjord that morning, and points out farmer Niels, who is eating in the restaurant and enjoying his own berries.

The next day, I venture to SMK Thy, the new, highly acclaimed outpost of the National Gallery of Denmark (Statens Museum for Kunst), which opened in the village of Doverodde last year. From Vorupør, it’s a 30-minute drive inland to the banks of the Limfjord, passing the dune plantations of Thy national park.

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A 42-metre former grain silo from the 1960s towers over the collection of warehouses that now host exhibitions such as Living Landscapes (until 18 October) featuring artists from Claude Lorrain to Edvard Munch and rising Danish stars such as Rasmus Myrup. Inside, a winding steel staircase traverses three floors and rewards visitors with remarkable views over the Limfjord. There’s also a “Nature Village” with pavilions serving as bases for outdoor education, exploring nature and kayaking.

It’s hard to figure how the National Gallery ended up in this sleepy part of Jutland, but it is already proving popular with people who might otherwise feel disconnected from the collection in the Danish capital on the other side of the country.

The SMK Thy gallery, a new Jutland outpost of Denmark’s National Gallery. Photograph: Martin Hoffman

Across the Limfjord is another notable destination for culture lovers – Kunsthal Thy gallery was set up in 2023 by artist Rasmus Søndergaard Johannsen in a barn on the medieval manor house estate of Boddum Bisgaard. Its programme features a roster of international and Danish avant garde artists, working in sculpture, video and installations that feel unexpected in this quiet corner of Denmark, and quite different from SMK Thy’s efforts over the water to share its collection with a regional audience.

And it’s that sense of the unexpected that lies at the heart of the region’s growing appeal. It’s why outdoor adventurers may be willing to swap the classic Atlantic surf hubs of Biarritz in France or Ericeira in Portugal for a northern outpost dubbed Cold Hawaii. That and a certain understated sense of Scandinavian style, of course.

The trip was supported by Visit Denmark and Visit Nordvestkysten. Doubles at the Vorupør Badehotel start at £178 B&B. Several trains depart in the morning from Copenhagen central station to Sjørring in the Thy district, which connects to local buses run by Nordjyllands Trafikselskab. A ticket from the train company DSB covers transport from Copenhagen to Vorupør, including two trains and a bus, from 516 krone (around £60)

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The Tiny Chipmunk Trainer Was The Cold War’s Most Unlikely Spyplane

On the 80th anniversary of the first flight of the de Havilland Canada Chipmunk basic trainer, an aircraft that generations of British and other military pilots learned to fly on, it’s worth recalling perhaps the most unusual episode of its career. Between 1956 and 1990, a handful of these propeller-driven trainers kept watch on Warsaw Pact forces in the divided and heavily fortified city of Berlina front line of the Cold War.

One of the two Chipmunks flown last week by the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight is WG486 — formerly attached to the RAF Gatow Station Flight for intelligence-gathering flights over Berlin:

At the end of World War II, defeated Germany was left divided between the Allied powers of France, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom, and the United States. The division of the country also extended to the former capital, Berlin, which was left deep within the Soviet occupation zone. Under the quadripartite agreement, the Western Allies retained the right of access to Berlin, using land and air corridors running into the Western-occupied zones of Germany.

A U.S. Army map of the occupation zones of Germany in 1945. Public Domain

The quadripartite agreement also included provisions for the Allied powers to maintain ‘liaison missions.’ Formally, these were supposed to ensure communications between the Western Allies and the Soviets. In practice, they soon became a critical way of gathering intelligence, especially since the Western missions were permitted to move, relatively unimpeded, in the Soviet zone, which would later become East Germany. The same applied to the Soviets in the West. For the British, the liaison mission was known as the British Mission to Soviet Forces in Germany (BRIXMIS), and it was based in Potsdam, just outside Berlin.

Meet The Real Cold War Spies Of BRIXMIS • FULL DOCUMENTARY | Forces TV thumbnail

Meet The Real Cold War Spies Of BRIXMIS • FULL DOCUMENTARY | Forces TV




The agreement also ensured access to West Berlin for the Western Allies, flying through three air corridors in and out of the city. Each of the Western Allies had an airport in the city, with the British using RAF Tegel. These corridors were full of transport activity during the Berlin Airlift of 1948-49, when the Soviets attempted to cut off the Western sectors of the city by blockade. Outside the corridors, Western Allied military aircraft could also fly over the Soviet Zone of Berlin, although this was something Moscow was never happy about.

By the mid-1950s, relations between East and West were becoming more tense, and this airspace access began to be exploited for intelligence-gathering.

A Central Intelligence Agency map showing Western Allied access routes to West Berlin. The Chipunks could operate in the shaded yellow area in and around Berlin — the Berlin Control Zone. Central Intelligence Agency

After the Berlin Airlift, the Western Allies were prohibited from flying combat aircraft in the corridors. Transport and training types, like the Chipmunk, were excluded from this rule, and in late 1956, the British launched the top-secret Operation Schooner (later renamed Operation Nylon), under which the trainers would conduct spy flights within the roughly 1,200-square-mile Berlin Control Zone.

Flying out of Gatow, the Chipmunk flights were officially for continuation training, which provided the required cover story. Actual training flights were also regularly conducted, also to preserve the cover.

Three Chipmunks fly in formation over the RAF Gatow airfield in Berlin, 1987. Crown Copyright

From the mid-1950s onward, East Germany rapidly became the focal point for Soviet military expansion in Europe, and the British and other Western Allies had a growing need for precise intelligence on Soviet basing, equipment, tactics — anything, in fact, that provided a better understanding of the adversary and potential warning of an attack.

The U.K. Prime Minister’s office individually approved the Chipmunk flights from RAF Gatow. Two or three sorties were typically scheduled for each week. These were flown under visual flight rules (VFR) — so only in good weather — and not above 1,500 feet. The quadripartite Berlin Air Safety Center, which ensured the security of flights in the Control Zone, was notified in advance, and each flight was planned to last around three hours.

The primary ‘targets’ were the numerous Soviet military installations located within the Berlin Control Zone. The Soviet controller within the Berlin Air Safety Center, not coincidentally, often stamped the flight request card with the words “Safety of Flight Not Guaranteed.”

Chipmunk WG466 over Berlin, circa 1989. Crown Copyright

Mission equipment, at first, was a handheld camera, operated by a BRIXMIS member in the front cockpit of the Chipmunk, with the RAF pilot sitting behind. Each sortie required careful preparation, with the crew wearing oxygen masks at all times to prevent their identification. They would climb aboard the aircraft inside a hangar, with the cameras already loaded, and the engine would be started behind closed doors. After all, Soviet ‘watchers’ were posted around Gatow, and observation towers overlooked the base.

Though the Soviets were well aware of the real nature of these flights (once, according to one BRIXMIS account, a camera lens was accidentally dropped from an open cockpit onto a busy parade ground), the quadripartite agreement provided diplomatic immunity to the Royal Air Force pilots. Nevertheless, Moscow was upset about any Western flights outside of West Berlin, and harassment of aircraft was hardly rare. At least once, a Chipmunk was damaged by groundfire from a Soviet infantryman.

A full version of the photo at the top of this story, showing Chipmunks WG486 and WG466 flying in formation in typically grey Berlin skies, in 1994. Crown Copyright

The importance of Schooner/Nylon increased as the Soviets made efforts to conceal their military activity in East Germany. To try to avoid the eyes of the liaison missions, they set up more Permanent Restricted Areas (PRA) — another provision of the quadripartite agreement. Within the Berlin Control Zone, the Chipmunks had access to several major Soviet divisional HQs, including some of its best-equipped and highest-readiness forces.

The construction of the Berlin Wall in 1961 underscored the East-West standoff and led to the Soviets further bolstering their military presence in and around the city, including new air defense missiles and surface-to-surface sites. According to some accounts, Chipmunks were among the first assets to bring back evidence of the extent of the border closures enacted by the Soviets in August 1961.

The Berlin Wall runs through Potsdamer Platz in Berlin, Germany, circa 1965. (Photo by Harvey Meston/Archive Photos/Getty Images)
The Berlin Wall running through Potsdamer Platz in Berlin, Germany, circa 1965. Photo by Harvey Meston/Archive Photos/Getty Images

By the end of the 1960s, one of the Gatow Chipmunks had received a permanent camera installation, and both got new radios. According to one pilot, the new camera was powerful enough to “record the maker’s name from the inside of a tank if the turret was open.”

10 April 1978, the British BRIXMIS Liaison Mission had access to two Chipmunk aircraft, which they used for photo reconnaissance over parts of East Germany, between West Berlin and the Inner German Border. In this case they’ve captured a T-64 engine being removed for maintenance. pic.twitter.com/NQTdOn7Qul

— The Tank Museum (@TankMuseum) June 5, 2023

On one occasion, a BRIXMIS member recalled being intercepted and closely followed by a Soviet Mi-24 Hind attack helicopter, which escorted the Chipmunk from the Soviet helicopter base at Oranienburg to the north of Berlin.

Right at the very edge of the Berlin Control Zone was an especially interesting ‘target,’ the Soviet airbase at Werneuchen. This was latterly home to MiG-25 Foxbat reconnaissance jets, and it also hosted periodic deployments of Soviet long-range bombers. It was also deep within a PRA, making ground access very difficult. The Chipmunks would fly close enough to photograph every aircraft on the flight line, aware that if they strayed beyond the main runway centerline, they would be outside the Berlin Control Zone and would be shot down.

Also connected to Werneuchen and even more remarkable in terms of mission equipment is the fact that at least one Chipmunk was fitted with electronic intelligence (ELINT) gear. This modification was approved by the U.K. Prime Minister in 1981 but was only revealed by aviation journalist Ben Dunnell in 2024. It is known that the ELINT equipment was used to gather information about a new Soviet battlefield radar, equipping the 9K35 Strela-10 (SA-13 Gopher) short-range air defense system. However, it was also used in at least one flight over Werneuchen. No other details of the results of these missions have ever been released.

A Soviet SA-13 missile launcher mounted on a tracked vehicle.
A Soviet SA-13 Gopher short-range air defense system as it appeared in the Soviet Military Power publication from the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency. DIA UNKNOWN

The Chipmunks remained busy until the fall of the Berlin Wall in November 1989 heralded the end of the Cold War. Immediately before German reunification, in 1990, BRIXMIS was stood down and, with it, the need for intelligence-gathering flights came to an end. At its biggest strength, the RAF Gatow Station Flight never had more than four Chipmunks assigned.

The Gatow Station Flight remained active until 1994, when the last Chipmunk departed. Gatow finally closed as an RAF station the same year.

Last week, as the Royal Air Force marked the 80th anniversary of the classic Chipmunk trainer, it is worth remembering the unique role that the aircraft played during one of the tensest periods of recent history, during which the intelligence it collected helped keep the peace between East and West.

Contact the author: thomas@thewarzone.com



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