Denmark Blog 

After a gruelling 37-hour trip from Brisbane (one third of which I spent going bonkers waiting in airports) I finally made it to Copenhagen where I was met at the airport by Kjeld, 78 year-old husband of a Russian lady I had hosted three years ago. (She had gone off to Bulgaria for the summer, unfortunately.) Kjeld's heart condition was a major concern and I wondered whether he would last the five days I had planned at his place. (He did, thankfully.) His English was in a similar state as his health, so communicating was always a challenge, but with lots of hand gestures and some German and Swedish words thrown in, we got by. Olga and Kjeld live 22 ks outside Copenhagen - 38 minutes by train - in a nice, quiet and leafy suburb where the people are an odd multi-cultural mix of Danes and foreigners, a very large proportion of which seem to be Muslim. (Kjeld tells me this is now normal in Denmark. Worryingly, it seems to be the norm everywhere around the world.)

Started my first full day in the big C by checking out the major attraction: the Tivoli Gardens. It is basically Lunar Park on steroids, huge in size, scope, gaudiness and price. (A cappuccino costs between $6 and $8.) Being mainly for kids, you can imagine how I reacted. Zzzzz. (And I paid $20 entrance fee for this?) I wondered how all the oldies taking their grandchildren around could afford it all, as every ride, booth and eating place charged an arm and a leg. After only an hour there I headed to the Tourist Information Centre and picked up maps and info on the local sights.

 

Tivoli

I opted for a self-guided walk that ultimately took 2 1/2 hours but took me to all the major attractions that I probably would have paid $60 or more to see if I had done a bus tour. As for the quality of the attractions (I hope there are no Danes reading this!) I have to say they left me cold. To me the city is  charmless. Mind you, in its defence, the place was undergoing major reconstruction, with every second building covered in scaffolding and roads being ripped up and recobbled. (Is that a word?) And there were hordes of tourists. I couldn't imagine what it would be like in summer! It says a lot for a city where the main attractions are a tiny brass, twice-decapitated statue of a bored mermaid and the world's longest and probably most expensive shopping mall! Still, the beautiful (but bracing) weather and the exercise were enjoyable and there were some mildly interesting historical buildings. 

 

Guess who?

 

I ended my tour of Boresville with a half a chicken and chips meal, followed by apple cake and shaving cream in a cheap, out of the way restaurant run by a Chinese lady who could speak no English, nor I imagined no Danish either. As I waited for my fowl meal I derived great pleasure from spotting the howlers in the English menu, like 'chicken and ships' and 'reserved fruits' (as opposed to what, outgoing fruits?) After my filling 'rate runch'', I dragged my reluctant and blistered feet back to Central Station. One minute after boarding my train, I realised to my horror that I'd forgotten to punch my ticket. (You buy a multizone strip of tickets that you have to put into a machine to be punched once for every two zones you travel.) Inspectors are on almost every train and if you don't punch your ticket they punch *you* with a huge fine. I hastily hopped off at the first stop, punched my ticket, then jumped on the next train. Phew, I was starting to feel 'punch' drunk!

 

Nyhavn - the nicest part of Copenhagen

 

Next day I decided to do something less strenuous: I went to the Botanical Gardens, the highlight of which is the large and ornate Victorian-style greenhouse that houses an enormous number of tropical plants from around the world. It was quite a shock to enter the glasshouse from the cold, dry spring air into the hot and steamy rainforest environment. Glasses fogged up and coats were quickly shed. But it was like entering another world, one I didn't want to leave. It really was the perfect place to vegetate (pun intended).

 

The Glass House at the Botanical Gardens

 

After that I went to the nearby and outstanding National Gallery of Denmark that contains a unique collection of Danish and international art, spanning 700 years. I don't know why I thought going there would be less strenuous than the day before. Spending four hours, walking slowly from painting to painting and bending down to read the background info in tiny English print (the Danish print is large and can be read from a distance - the bastards!) is just as physically demanding as briskly walking 25ks! Still, I enjoyed it. It was a very good collection with most of the Great Masters represented. And it gave me an insight into Danish life through the centuries. At the end I treated myself to a $6 cappuccino (seems to be the standard price) while nibbling on a lovely sweet Danish (her name was Monika).

That night I got an email from my host in Aalborg (a northern city where I was going a week later) to say she was going to be in Copenhagen for a day and did I want to hook up? Of course I rang and said yes. 

I met Ann and her lovely 19 year-old daughter Helena in a little cafe in the old docklands district of the city and we immediately hit it off.  After coffee and croissants we strolled by the river then took a passenger ferry (a kind of Copenhagen City Cat) for some very nice sightseeing. The plan was to get out at a particular stop then walk to this new modern art gallery where Helena had just started working However, we were talking and laughing so much we missed our stop by two stations and had a fair walk to the gallery. Didn't really matter as the weather was gorgeous and the way past some grand buildings was interesting. The gallery, situated in a kind of Bohemian quarter teeming with young people and some very strange and colourful alternative types, was interesting, containing works by up-and-coming Danish and international artists. Some items were bizarre, like a skateboard in a bottle and large canvases by a lady who only paints aftermath scenes of school massacres like Colombine. Who would want one of those in one's living room I wondered? Still, I was tempted, especially as one of the massacre scenes reminded me of my bedroom. And Helena was so lovely and personable, I would've bought a dead rat from her if she'd told me it was a work of art. After coffee and cupcakes in a small, arty coffee shop, Ann and I parted company, both looking forward to my stay at her place in Aalborg next Thursday. Couch Surfing is truly wonderful.

The next day I decided I'd had enough of the city and decided to visit one of the big three castles out in the countryside, Frederiksborg Slot. ("Slot" means castle in Danish) Built on three islands from 1560 and surrounded by a moat, it is the most lavish of the Danish royal residences, but I found it a bit run down and needing an injection of funds. Yes, they should really put more money in the slot. (Sorry.) Of the hundreds of portraits of the royal family through the centuries lining the walls of the castle (the Danish royals were well known for being self-obsessed), it was nice to see a big flattering portrait of Our Mary, the Crown Princess, who is universally loved and admired in Denmark. Of course I tell the locals that all Australian girls look like her. (If only!)

 

The Great Hall, Frederiksslot

 

Our Mary, the Crown Princess

Monday I said goodbye to my kind host Kjeld and took the train to Aarhus, second largest city in Denmark situated on the eastern side of the Jutland peninsula. I was greeted at the station by Kasper, a 25 year-old architecture student who couch-surfed at my place 3 years ago. It was so good to see him again. He generously arranged to sleep at his girlfriend's place for the next two nights, allowing me to stay in his tiny but comfortable flat for my three days there. (He was leaving the city Wed morning.) That night I took him out for the traditional Dorrie's Shout at a nice restaurant, a Greek one as it turned out. (Almost a week in Denmark and I still haven't sampled traditional fare. I'm  going to have to do something about that.)

Tuesday morning Kasper played truant from Uni classes to show me around his city. There was much to see - the sleepy marina (the city is the principal port of Denmark), the arty Latin Quarter, the 13th century Protestant cathedral (the tallest in Denmark), a couple of canals and quaint, old half-timbered buildings in narrow, winding cobbled lanes. We searched in vain to find me a tour to do the next day, but spring tours in Aarhus are non-existent. They all start in June. Even the tourist information office was closed till June. With such gorgeous weather, this was almost criminal. Anyway, we made our own entertainment, having a coffee here, a Guinness there and generally soaking up the sun which had been hidden for so long. (It was a long, cold and depressing winter apparently.) Bare limbs were being exposed by the locals, obviously for the first time in aeons. I couldn't help smiling at their lily-white appearance. At one point, Kasper looked up and asked me what that big round yellow ball in the sky was. For more than six months the Aarhusians hadn't seen it! How lucky we Australians are.

Just by the by: Aarhus people are looked down by the rest of Denmark who make jokes about them like we do about Tasmanians. For example, one popular Aarhus story goes as follows. "Have you heard about the Aarhus citizen who was leafing through a phonebook and remarked: 'Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, Jensen... How many phones does this guy have?' I showed this to Kasper and he roared with laughter. Guess what his surname is? You guessed it: Jensen!

That night Kaspar cooked me a delicious traditional meal of Danish meatballs, which he kept apologetically stating were nowhere near as good as those his grandmother used to make, but they tasted great to me. Afterwards we went to a late session of Iron Man 3 at the local cinema, some of which I slept through. (All my walking was starting to catch up with me.) It was shown in English with subtitles, as Hollywood movies are throughout Scandinavia. After the movie we said our fond farewells as Kaspar had to go to his parents first thing the next day. I could still use his flat though till my departure on Thursday, which was very nice of him. I was sad that I had only a day and a half of this fine young man's company and grateful that he took time out of his busy schedule to spend with me. He really is a great Dane. (Had to get that one in!)

The next day spelt the end of the beautiful weather. It was cold and grey, but no rain thankfully. I spent the morning at the Viking Museum and from noon to 2pm at the Old Town, Aarhus's main tourist attraction, and a good one too. It's an open-air town museum consisting of 75 historical buildings collected from 20 townships in all parts of the country with people dressed in period costume interacting with the tourists. I've been to places like this before but this was the best I've seen. It gave a great picture of what life was like from the 1550s to the early 20th century.

 

 

The Old Town

After the Old Town I went to a clinic which caters to tourists as my ear was continuing to give me problems. A young doctor examined my ear and found nothing seriously wrong, apart from some swelling and redness. He then tested it for hearing loss and again found nothing of concern, though I assured him, my hearing *was* affected. He prescribed some drops which I was to take for the next 5 days. Let's hope they are more effective than those prescribed by my Brisbane doctor and which I took for almost two weeks with no success. The whole thing cost about $70 for the consultation and $14 for the drops, all of which I should be able to get back on my travel insurance. Hopefully money well spent.

Thursday was the day of my departure from Aarhus and I filled in the morning before my afternoon train to Aalborg by visiting the internationally acclaimed ARoS modern art gallery. It's the city's top attraction, along with the Old Town. Being modern art, most of the works there were ugly and weird and many left me baffled. Like the bare canvas simply painted blue. This is art? This is worth thousands of dollars? I was starting to get ideas about how to fund the rest of my trip... (I just needed to find some green paint.) The morning wasn't a complete waste of time, however. On the roof of the gallery is this giant circular walkway built of glass featuring all the colours of the spectrum of light. It was like walking inside a rainbow and was nothing like I'd ever experienced. Providing a spectacular panoramic view of the city, the walkway was worth the admission price alone If only I'd known!

 

I arrived at Aalborg after 4pm and was met by Ann. She took me to her new apartment where I met her 15 year-old twin son and daughter (nice bright kids). There are four older siblings scattered around the place, including the lovely Helena in Copenhagen. (Ann is separated, if you hadn't guessed.) After tea and snacks we took off on a long walk through the city and along the waterfront. Dorrie's Shout was at an alternative, hippyish restaurant where the food was cheap and good, but the wine expensive ($30 for the cheapest South African red). 

The next morning Ann generously offered to drive me up to Skagen, Denmark's northernmost town and important ferry terminal to Norway, exploring the wind-swept coasts of Jutland along the way. It was to be a long but enjoyable day of sightseeing, visiting neat little holiday/fishing villages, climbing high sand dunes, viewing quaint light houses, scrambling down into derelict wartime German bunkers, having coffee and traditional Danish chocolate torte in a lovely ambience-rich hotel, to mention some of the highlights. Arriving at Skagen at 2pm, we admired the many old and charming yellow-painted stone houses with their red tile roofs. We went down to the docks where our intention was to have a fish meal (plaice was Ann's favourite) at one of the many outdoor restaurants, but the weather turned nasty  We managed to find the only indoor restaurant and were lucky enough to get a table. Though a little pricey, it was a great place for some great plaice. (This time the meal was on Ann, bless her.) From our restaurant we could see lots of Norwegians taking loads of grog onto the ferry to Norway, where the price of alcohol is astronomical. This is a very common practice, I believe. I'll probably have to do the same when I cross from Finland to Norway in a week's time.

 

A typical Skagen house

 

Hirtshals Fyr (Light House)

 

Having morning tea at Løkken

After the rain had subsided, we went on to the Skagen Museum which houses a great collection of Scandinavian art from their Golden Age (the years around the turn of the 20th century) that featured the villages and people of the area as their subjects. Our final destination was Grenen, the very top of Denmark where the  North and Baltic Seas meet. Tourists are supposed to "transfer to a tractor-pulled tram" to get to the cape, about one and a half ks along the beach from the car park. By the time we'd got there the trams had strangely disappeared and we had to use the only other alternative mode of transport: Shanks's Pony. Arriving at the point of meeting  of the two oceans, we could clearly see them - one was calm, the other rough, and where they met was quite turbulenthhkf. It was well worth the walk, though our enthusiasm was dampened (literally) on the way back when the heavens opened and we got thoroughly soaked. The car' s heater and fan worked overtime on our uncomfortable drive home, I can assure you. There's nothing worse than cold, clinging wet jeans. 

Ann at the meeting of the waters. Note the approaching storm!

Saturday (yesterday) was spent chilling out and doing mundane things like washing, getting my blog organised and watching DVDs of Danish historical movies (more entertaining than it sounds!). This time it was my shout for lunch and a bottle of Chilean wine for later. A small token of thanks really for the kindness and generosity of my host. Ann has been truly wonderful; she's wined and dined me, driven me hundreds of kilometres and is even taking me to the airport this afternoon! I consider myself to be a first-class host, but I'm never this generous to my guests. I've thoroughly enjoyed talking and eating with the family (I've now met all of the siblings except the eldest son who lives in Switzerland) who have also been super welcoming. It's a lovely end to the first part of my Great Adventure. This evening I fly back to Copenhagen (I'm staying overnight in a cheap hotel near the airport) then tomorrow morning I fly to Helsinki to start my organised tour of Finland and Norway. My next blog will be after this has finished, in 16 days time. I'm sure there'll be lots of interesting things to tell you about my arctic excapades! In the meantime, stay cool as I try to stay warm.