Jutland proves picture perfect

They came for the light, they came to paint - attracted by the atmospheric reflections that flicker around the strange tract of land where the North Sea merges with the Baltic. Here, Jutland simply disappears into the sea, submitting a slender finger of sand to a watery embrace. And here, from 1880 to 1910, an artists' colony thrived, known as the Skagen Painters, from the most northerly town of that name.

The museum at Skagen ( pronounced "skane") has a fine collection of the most prominent works of this Danish Impressionist school - heroic scenes of fishermen hauling boats up beaches, dramatic beach fires and coastal promenades by PS Kroyer, portraits by Anna and Michael Ancher and seascapes by Carl Locher.

Put on an artistic map, Skagen became fashionable for holidays, but someone else paved the way. Travelling through the area in 1859, Hans Christian Andersen had written pamphlets describing the little fishing villages. In one of the earliest travel articles he wrote: "Are you a painter? Then come up here with us, there are subjects for you here, scenery for your brush - landscapes that give you a picture of Africa's deserts, the ash-strewn hills of Pompeii and the bird-populated sandbanks of the ocean."

The place has a distinct, almost magnetic, lure. The two seas meet in surprisingly calm collusion; apparently, when sunny, the translucent blues almost transcend belief; however, the diffuse conditions that I experienced were more suited to the greys of Monet or Turner. Ominous swirls of fog drifted in and hung in layers like tracing paper. It was practically an eclipse, yet the light still had an ethereal, painterly quality about it.

I sought refuge in the charming house and studio of Anna and Michael Ancher in Skagen and had the place to myself.

Removing shoes, placing my feet in standard-issue duster bags (valuable carpets, obviously), I did a little duster dance in one room, simply because I could. Immaculately preserved, the house tells the tale of dedicated, prolific and talented painters; CCTV footage would tell another tale.

Down the iron-flat outstretched hand of Jutland I hurried back as quickly as I could in spooky, pea-souper fog to the moated 14th century Kokkedal Slot (Danish for castle), where, adding to the medieval atmosphere, a flaming torch blazed a warm welcome at the entry. Husband and wife team Gorm and Ann Lokdam have converted five old properties, manor houses and castles to a very comfortable standard, and use the extensive cellars at Kokkedal for running their wine business, importing from Romania. We dined on the tenderest home-farmed Angus beef in wild berry sauce and the lightest champagne sorbet, accompanied by excellent Romanian wines.

Next day, the sun shone in that annoying fashion as if fog had never been invented, but I was out of time. I'll return. Not in autumnal fog: in summer or late spring - and with a paintbox.

Locations for culture vultures