MAY 28, 2025: Today is our last day in Denmark. Our evening flight back to Israel (via Zurich) departs from Copenhagen, and since the drive from Gilleleje to the airport is just about an hour, we have time to explore a bit along the way. Our plan was to do some sightseeing (visit a castle) and then stop in three small towns – each with its own connection to the rescue of Danish Jews during World War II.
A short drive from Gilleleje brought us to Helsingør, a historic port city on the northeastern coast of Zealand and home to Kronborg Castle, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Kronborg is best known as the inspiration for the fictional Elsinore Castle in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
Built in the 16th century by King Frederick II, it became one of the most important Renaissance castles in Northern Europe. Strategically positioned at the narrowest point of the Øresund Strait between Denmark and Sweden, it gave Denmark control over maritime traffic and allowed the crown to collect tolls from passing ships—a significant source of royal income.
To reach the castle, you must first cross over the surrounding moat. You then walk through the castle grounds until you enter the castle and reach a large courtyard. Several of the castle wings are open for exploration.
The castle was the setting of grand banquets, thrown by the kings, to showcase their power and prestige. The ballroom when built was the largest room in all of Europe. The castle visit includes an interactive exhibit to learn more about these opulent feasts.
From Helsingør, we drove to Humlebæk, a charming coastal town located about 35 km (22 miles) north of Copenhagen. The town’s claim to fame is the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, which unfortunately we did not have enough time to visit.
Instead, we went to the beach, to find the monument “Oktober1943” by Danish artist Per Arnoldi. Installed in May 2021, the memorial marks the exact spot from which many Danish Jews were ferried to safety in Sweden during the Nazi round-up of Jews in October 1943. The sculpture is a slab of light gray granite with a boat perched on top, its prow pointing toward Sweden.
The building next to the monument, Slettenhus (formerly Hotel Gylfe) served as a secret gathering point for resistance members and for hiding Jews before their crossing. However, we found no plaque or sign to indicate its historical significance.
From Humlebæk, we drove five kilometers south to the town of Nivå, once home to a thriving brickworks industry that supplied much of Copenhagen with bricks. We had read that during WWII, Jews were hidden in the brick factory. With low expectations – assuming we’d find only information about brickmaking and not about the Jewish history of the place – we ended up having one of the most memorable encounters of our trip.
We arrived at Nivaagaard Brickworks, a large circular building, only to discover it wouldn’t open until 13:00. This was too late for us – we had a plane to catch. We decided to take some photos of the outside of the factory before continuing onward. As we did, a car pulled up and the driver rolled down his window. When I greeted him in English, he turned off the engine, stepped out of the car to talk to us, and began telling us the story of the place.
The brickworks were established in 1701 by Queen Louise, who selected this spot because of the high-quality clay in the area. Originally, kilns were rectangular and used for single batches. But here, they innovated by building a circular kiln with 15 ovens, dramatically increasing output. At its peak, the factory produced bricks used to expand entire neighborhoods in Copenhagen. Today, the kiln is preserved as a national industrial monument.
When we asked whether Jews had been hidden here during the war, he paused, looked at us, and said, “Ah… so you’re one of them.” He told us that Jewish groups often visit the site, and just two weeks earlier a group of older Jewish visitors from Florida had been there. During WWII, he said, Jews were hidden not only in the kiln but throughout the town.
The factory was built not far from the beach. He pointed to a path in the woods that led to the water and explained that this reached a pier that was once used to transport bricks. With the advent of the railroad and trucks, it was no longer used. However, during WWII the footpath was repurposed for rescuing the Jews. At night, under the cover of darkness, they followed it towards the ancient pier and onto the boats that took them to Sweden.
Throughout our trip in Denmark, whenever we visited a place, there was usually a box at the entrance with pamphlets about the attraction. The pamphlets were usually very well done and informative. At the entrance to the brick factory, there were two boxes. We took the pamphlet about the brick factory from one and ignored the other box. The man explained to us that the pamphlets in the other box are activity books for teens, designed to help them understand the dilemmas faced by townspeople who helped rescue the Jews. For example, on one page there is the following scenario: “You’re responsible for leading a Jewish family from the kiln to the beach. You must be absolutely quiet because the Gestapo is patrolling nearby. A baby starts to cry—what do you do?” The pamphlet asks difficult, thought-provoking questions to encourage a better understanding of what happened here. Pretty remarkable.
After saying our goodbyes, Michal and I followed the path through the woods to the waterfront. Today the area is a tranquil nature reserve with a birdwatching tower. Standing on the shore, we looked out across the water and Sweden, the wartime haven for Denmark’s Jews, was clearly visible in the distance.
We didn’t linger long – we still had one more town to visit before heading to the airport. Our final stop was Dragør, a small, historic seaside town near Copenhagen Airport. In the harbor, a small fishing boat is on display – one of the original vessels used in the rescue of the Jews during the war. It’s part of the Dragør Museum, located right on the water.
The town itself is postcard-perfect, with cobbled streets and yellow-painted houses, and is considered one of Denmark’s best-preserved historic towns. We found it charming. We had lunch at a local café, before making the short drive to the airport.
Our time in Denmark passed by very quickly. We found the country very enjoyable – the flat countryside is not as boring a landscape as it seems. We had managed to see most of what we had set out to.
This trip also felt like a turning point for the Wandering Jew app. Improvements in the app helped it play a bigger, more effective role than on previous trips. Wandering Jew helped us find what to see and usually navigated us correctly to those places. Of course, there’s still plenty of work to do—making it easier to use, adding more content— but the app is heading in the right direction. With each trip, it gets a little better, and I’m sure a few more adventures will help shape it into something even more useful. Just need to decide where to go to next!
I miss Denmark already:)
Sounds really beautiful and great stories. Although — and hopefully it will never come to this again — I can’t help wondering if they’d save their Jews today. Any insight on their opinion of Jews in the current climate?
On the one hand, it was the least pro-Palestinian country we travelled in recently. There were a few posters, a few obvious Muslims, but it never felt threatening. Always well mannered, polite and dignified. On the other hand, we told everyone we were from New York.
Quite a busy agenda for the last day! Great coincidence you were able to meet “one of those” helpful people at the brick factory.