Training to Copenhagen

After a very nice weekend with Kirsten and her friends, Dick and I took the train to Aarhus, where we separated. He was on the way to Aalborg and I hopped the train to Copenhagen.


 Anyone traveling in Denmark BEWARE!!! Going to Viborg, which is worth the trip, means you have to change trains Everyone and I mean every person in Denmark tries to force you to change at Langaa, which is a station that has been closed for a number of years. If it's cold and raining and windy, which is most often the case, you have to stand out and wait for the train in the weather, because there is no pleasant place to find shelter. Also it has no elevators or escalators. All the tracks in Denmark are, unlike Victoria Station in London, situated in such a way that if you need to change tracks it means carrying your luggage up and down the stairs. If you're young and strong, this is no problem, but someone my age has a problem managing one suitcase. And if you have a lot of luggage, it is a nightmare. However, everyone can change at Aalborg, which might cost you $5 or $6 more, but well worth the cost. Aalborg has elevators. Okay back to the trip. It was an uneventful trip to Copenhagen. The fun started at the arrival. I stupidly didn't check to see if I had the address of my hotel. Well, I didn't. But at first I was very excited because there was a big sign stating CABINN CITY HOTEL LOCATED BEHIND TIVOLI. I have spent no time i n Copenhagen, which I realized last night was a big mistake. But hey we got to see the metropolis of Humlebaek, such a great place, NOT. So I didn't know where Tivoli was. Znd when I looked at the map Tivoli is quite large. So luckily there is a McDonald's in the station and like their clean bathrooms it also has free wifi. So I took my smart phone and found the address. Mitchellsgaede. Okay, now it will be easy. I found a map at the tourist office, where by the way, no one had heard of the street or the hotel, even though there was a huge sign in the station. Guess what there was no street index on the map, because there were dozens of advertisements to pay for the map. Not a great help. I knew it was not very far and now it's after dark, so I looked around for the information center, which everyone assured me was in the station. However, no one knew where. In any case, after fifteen minutes of searching, I decided to ask a taxi driver or even take a taxi. But there was an elderly man standing on the steps outside, who had on a government jacket, so I asked him. And he gave me good general directions. Walking there, I couldn't find the name of the street and started to get a little nervous. Not every street is lighted so, I felt a little anxiety going down streets without lights. I asked a pedestrian, but of course he wasn't from here either. Finally after two or three tries, an elderly man escorted me to the hotel. He wanted me to feel welcome in Denmark. 


 The Cabinn City hotel turned out to be quite nice. Where there are few hotels that are not extraordinarily expensive, this is a good, clean, friendly hotel right near the station (three blocks). And it is about 500 Kroner, which is about $80. 


 Here is what you get for the price: All the good things: 1. Very clean, 2. good hot water,3. plenty of space to hang your clothes, 4. a desk with enough space to do your computer work with adequate number of plugs and the internet, 5.comfortable bed and 7. many channels on the TV. 8. Plenty of light to read by and 9.a friendly helpful staff. 10. No stairs to deal with, even though one seems to think so at the front door. But there is an escalator up to reception. 11. Restaurants are within walking distance, though the one I ate at, Wagamama, left a lot to be desired. Disadvantages: 1.Room is small. However it is not as small as we have seen at other hotels in Denmark. You don't have to walk over the bed to get to the other side of the room. 2. The shower is not separate from bathroom, though it works very well. It is like the showers in East Europe. 3. To wash out socks and underwear---there is not a specific place to hang them, though I hung mine over the chair arm(Rattan Chair) and they were dry enough to wear this morning. 4. Though there is plenty of food for the breakfast, there is nothing hot, no eggs or bacon. But plenty of cereals, different breads (a couple with my beloved poppy seeds) yogurt and coffee, but no cappuccino. It is more a Danish breakfast, not an International one. Still it is worth the price (70 Kroner) All in all, it was an interesting experience. Oh yes, I ate at a socalled Japanese restaurant. It was no more Japanese than the Korean restaurants in the US. I was very hungry and the food tasted good at first, but, oh well, after awhile, it was pretty disgusting. It was called Wagamama.

A Gourmet Meal

Sometimes you get lucky and have a wonderful evening when you least expect it. Last night was such an evening. Friends of Kirsten, Shuzo and Marianna Konishi,  picked us up at 18:30 for dinner. We had been there a couple of times before, but only when the whole family and friends were also there. This time we were their only guests.  


It is a wonderful house, a mixture of Japanese and modern Danish all tastefully picked and executed.  We brought a bottle of Sancerre and Valrhona chocolates, which is the dark chocolate eaten by the Monarchy in Denmark, for gifts. 


We started with a glass of champagne while we sat around in their living room.  There were photos that flashed on the television, which were not taken by them, but by professionals that one can find on the internet. 


 Then we repaired to the table. The first course had a plate with a small serving of shiitake mushrooms, raw ground salmon mixed with something, Japanese risotto, and the stem of some vegetable I had never tasted before. It was brown, mild and crunchy, but the name escapes me.This course was served with a very dry white wine.  


The second course was a variation of scalloped potatoes and duck l'orange covered with grape halves. It was fantastic. This was served with Cote du Rhone.


Dessert was Creme Caramel and coffee. And the after dinner drink was a spot of Amarone Grappa. You couldn't get better at a top gourmet restaurant. 


So it was a meal that took at least two hours and in the meantime we really got to know the two of them. Shuzo has been here more than 40 years. He and Marianna have three grown children, one is a doctor and I think the other is an architect. I'm not sure, because we talked very little about the children. 


He was quite surprised to hear that we had five children who are half Japanese. So we do have things in common. Shuzo did the cooking and loves it apparently. He is always trying new things, and then working on the dish until he is able to do it perfectly. I am glad to be the recipient of that accumulated knowledge.

Wandering through Viborg

The Cathedral

After resting a whole day, doing nothing but talk to Kirsten, play scrabble, read Post American World by Fareed Zacharia and watch TV--the Downton Abbey for the second time, Dick and I decided to go into town today and look around. 


Viborg is a wonderful little village, old buildings dating back to the 1700s, narrow streets, an unusual cathedral with a roof and gables like dunce caps. Usually I am quite bored with things Scandinavian, always comparing things I see to Florence, Rome, Paris and Barcelona. But this little town had a charm all its own. And I wouldn't mind coming here in the summer to do more photos------when the sun is shining. 


As usual the sun hid its face and the wind was up. So standing outside was a little better than miserable. But I enjoyed the place anyway. 

First we went to the Madhus, which actually means meal house. But we got a kick out of saying we drank cappuccinos in a place called a Mad Hus. And that we did in a cafe restaurant that was modern and bright, or as bright as one can have with no sun.  The tables and chairs were Danish modern, as most, things are here. When I looked outside I saw a statue of a gull's face. Well, I think that's what it was. A cement structure made like the face of a bird bobbing along in a water trough. Gray and dull looking. 

Street Scene

We walked down the main street, a pedestrian street, which is common in all the small towns in Denmark. Outside stood rows of clothes for sale, clothes for the hearty individual. I guess the new fashion colors are gray and some kind of green.  What I find amusing is the placement of the shops. All clothes shops together, all underwear shops one after another with photos of well endowed women in flimsy little lingerie. And shops with sausages, flowers, etc.

Another statue on the square. Nothing fragile about these buggers

We had lunch at Jensen's Boefhus, a place Dick has chosen years ago because it has a salad bar and a well stocked salad bar. I had the luncheon steak, a delicious piece. I took the small one with pan fries and a tuborg classic beer. And the salad of course. Dick had the fitness chicken, tiny pieces absolutely dry. So he poured olive oil to give the meat some flavor. 

When we left, we had to walk over the square, because the streets are all torn up for whatever reason. There was a line of about 100 people in front of an ice cream shop. I don't think I have seen that many Danes in one place waiting for anything. And then we found out why.  The shop was giving away free Italian ice, newly opened and the whole village arrived to get some.

This is a leather jacket for sale at a place where Dick tried on a sweater jacket that was too small and had no pockets. You have to love that name.

Since we have been invited for dinner tonight, we stopped by the wine shop and bought a present, San Cere and chocolates. I took a photo of the Cathedral while waiting for the taxi to pick us up. 

Last day in Soevind

Tomorrow I am on the road again. I catch the train in Horsens, change in Aalborg and then go on to Viborg.  Kirsten, Dick's friend, will pick me up and take me to her house. I meet up with Dick at Kirsten's. Dick met her when he was teaching at the Business School in Viborg. Kirsten was one of the teachers there and they have been friends for years.


Kirsten has retired as well. She went to London for a few months and house sat for a family there who were traveling to India for the winter. Not a bad idea. House sit for a month or more for a family who needs someone to care for the house. An inexpensive way to see another big city.


It will be sad to say good bye to Jette and Kjeld. But I have been here a long time and I'm sure, though they never say so, they have had enough of me. You know the old quote from Ben Franklin, "A guest after three days is like fish." But we have had some good talks, and Kjeld put together a program that brings netflix into Denmark. So Jette and I watched In Plain Sight the last three nights.


Today we are going into town, Horsens. She needs to shop for her children's and grandchildren's birthdays. I need to get my nails done and take back a shirt I bought.


Yesterday I spent two hours in Horsens, while they worked out at the gym. I tried a hot dog at another stand, and it was very bad. I thought I was eating paper, but it was the rind of the hot dog. Not at all like the hot dog I had at the stand of the Vietnamese guy. I looked for his shop, but couldn't find him on my own.

Dick's book reception, etc.

We got up late. I think I slept until almost 10 after going to bed at 20 hours. I felt like my body was going to break into pieces and I snuggled into bed and relaxed finally. When I went into the kitchen, dining room for coffee and bread, Dick told me I had to be ready at 11:30 which made me a little stressed. We were meeting people for lunch from the publishing house at 13 hours. It is only half an hour to Aarhus, so why so early. Then we had to search for cords and various other things, so the time to 11:30 was getting shorter and shorter, which meant I was getting more and more irritable. Finally we got off, everyone dressed in their finery. I had my grey and white and black blouse and pearl necklace and earrings I'd worn on my birthday. Jette had on a black and white blouse and Kjeld wore a sweater, looking very preppy. Dick was dressed to the hilt, with his boring blue shirt, but a very snazzy tie and sport coat. 


We had lunch with Paul, Hanne and an intern called Sabrina, who came along for the experience, at a very nice Italian Restaurant called the Grappa.  The food was pretty good, though they sold the wine in three sizes, 5, 10 and 15, which I found very confusing. I took 15 which turned out to be about half a glass which made me wonder how big a 5 was. At about 14 hours we left for the university, where the reception was taking place.  But it didn't start until 16:30, so Jette and I sat around and read our kindles.


Dick was introduced by a man called Soeren, who was Danish, but looked like a southern Frenchman, short, dark with dark eyes. Dick talked for about 30 minutes, explaining why he did so much work in Denmark.  Then Soeren talked about Dick's profiles saying that it was impossible to put those profiles to every individual in the country Dick described. Then Dick got up, agreed with Soeren and explained that the profiles were only a place to start and of course everyone had his or her own personality quirks, wherever they lived. And so it went, for another half hour. Questions were asked and answered. It ended very well. Everyone seemed to be happy with the debate and its resolution. But then everyone was ready for the best part: the food and drink.  


When we walked out into the buffet, I was shocked at the amount of food. About 30 people came to the reception and there was enough for at least 100. Glased chicken on sticks, ham and salami and vegetables on toast, salmon and something green in glass, pineapple lemon mix and chocolate balls with something creamy inside. I suggested to Soeren that he give it free to the students the next day. 


I met a lot of people who had heard about me from Dick's lectures. I'm sure they thought I was green with red horns, at least crazy for running like a banji from one country to another. I talked to three women, who had married Danes, who had read my section of the India book and complimented me, loving the stories. (Thanks, Les. You were certainly correct.) One was called Sandra from Iowa, who met her husband in South America and came back to Denmark to run a mink farm. Then there was Meg, whose name is Mary, from North Carolina and Terry. All of them were teachers at Hjoerring. It was all in all a very good time had by all, a success for Dick.


Then we came back to Jette's where we drank Pina coladas and coke with rum. I drank more than absolutely necessary and suffered a lot that night with unbearable hip pain, which I know will happen under those circumstances. So no one to blame but myself. 

Leaving Kolding for Horsens

The bar in the Steak House

Dick was up at 6 am and I heard him singing away in the bathroom over the horrible whirr of the shaver. I forgot to put on my white noise the night before, so it was my own fault. In any case I got up and played scrabble on Words with Friends, which I can't seem to be able to access now, even where there is a good wifi connection. Dick had to pack and eat breakfast before 7:30, when he had to go by taxi to the business school where he lectures. 


We went down to breakfast. The cafe looks out over the plaza where the railway station is located and people where going off to work. By their dress I could tell that the weather was miserable. It was overcast, which is pretty normal for Denmark, but the hats pulled down over their ears, long scarves hanging down their backs or rolled in big blogs around their necks and boots with fur lining showed me that it was not a day when I would wander around old town to take photos. 


The breakfast consisted of three kinds of yogurt, four different types of cereal, thick Danish bread, rolls with poppy seeds, the funny cheese that the Norwegians love, which always looks a little weird to me. It's a brown cheese called myse ost, which is made of goats milk, and has a very unusual taste. I'm sure it is like peanut butter or Marmite (bone marrow spread on bread in England) that you learn to love as a child. There was of course two cheeses which looked normal to me though I didn't know their names, certainly some unpronounceable danish name, scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon and soft boiled eggs. Naturally there is a good assortment of danish pastry, and fresh and dried fruit. Dick is able to eat a bowl of cereal with yogurt and fruit, a bacon sandwich, and a big piece of pastry without gaining weight, which I no longer can. So I had two tablespoons of yogurt mixed with dry fruit, a boiled egg and a roll with poppy seeds. Now, there is cappuccino, latte and regular strong coffee all over Europe and I always have a cappuccino. I always take an apple or orange for my second breakfast at 10. 


I went back to the room and decided to sleep another hour, but found there was a program I liked on TV, NCIS, which I hadn't seen before. So I watched it, took a shower and dressed, half packed and sat down to write my blog.  When I was almost finished, the telephone rang and a voice said: "You have ten minutes to clear the room."  Whoops, noon had come faster than anticipated. I threw everything in my bag and by the time I closed and zipped it up, the cleaning lady was standing at my door. 


I read the Razor's Edge by Somerset Maugham while waiting for Dick and realized that he would have lunch so I ordered a hamburger. But I was surprised because they gave me mayonnaise on the side, which was so bland, you might as well have eaten raw egg whites. When Dick arrived, I still hadn't received my food, so he drank coffee and complained, which calls just giving me the data I need,  that it would start raining soon, and we should go as soon as possible. After an hour, we left and yippee it had started raining. So, we would like to rush, but I can't,  so even going the short distance my coat was dripping and my hat was ready to wring out. We needed to be on the train for an hour, so I continued reading my book.  


Kjeld met us in Horsens and carried my bag to the car. He is very kind that way. He also took one of Dick's bags. And in an hour we arrived at their home in Soevind where Jette was waiting with coffee and short bread.

Kolding, Denmark

The room for breakfast in the First Hotel.

Yesterday I spent the morning in the college that Dick was lecturing at. I worked on my blog sitting in the teachers' room, which actually was a huge office where they all did their work. I laughed when I looked around me.  Remember the paper free office? Well it isn't here. There were stacks of papers on every desk, on the floor, under the desks.The biggest lie we were ever told by computer producers. 


I have tried to get rid of the paper in our office. For awhile I scanned receipts and put them in files. But then at tax time, I had to run the receipts off and put them in files for the accountant. That's twice as much paper. 


In any case, when Dick was finished we all went for lunch in the cafeteria where the students also eat.. Now this was a wonderful lunch, a buffet with tons of salad food, beef and chicken and again potatoes done in many ways. We sat with three of the teachers, Hanne, a chubby lady with bright blond curly hair, who carried a hot pink backpack. She was the sweetest, constantly coming back to the teachers' room to see if I had coffee, or if I needed some fruit. Then there was the tall skinny woman, whose name I forgot. She reminds me of many Danish women, a boy's haircut, worn severely, no make up and dressed in jeans and a pullover.  And Bodil, seemingly the head of the teachers. She was very serious, well dressed with a mint green leather jacket and a skirt. She and I had a good conversation about teaching language in the classroom. Then Bodil drove us to Kolding, pronounced Calling. 


The countryside reminded me of the landscape just west of Madison, rolling hills, pastures, fields where grain and corn will be planted. Felt like home. 


The First Hotel looked good. But we had to wait for two hours until our room was clean. I sat down and pulled out my smart phone to play scrabble and no wifi. I asked the woman behind the desk and she handed me a piece of paper with the code. I tried to put it in, but it didn't work. I again asked what was wrong. "I don't know," she said irritated, "no one else has any problems. I can't help you." Of course, I was really unhappy. Wifi is important to me. And I want to play scrabble. 


 No one else has any problems? Is the receptionist insinuating that there is something wrong with me? That I'm too stupid. But then she can't fix it either. So what is she saying about herself? I am thinking, why doesn't she ask one of the other people there to help me?  Maybe I'm overreacting, but I did feel like batting her. In any case, a receptionist does not dismiss you. She at least pretends she wants to help you.


 When the room was ready, we went up and I pulled out my computer and figured out what to do. It was too complicated to do on the telephone. 

The Steak House

Dick found a restaurant, called A Heref0rd Boeffstouw.  Which I guess means, A Hereford Steak House. Anyway there were all kinds of steaks there including the Japanese milk fed massaged beef. It was all very expensive, but then everything is in Denmark. The restaurant was in an ancient yellow building, next to a building that was built in 1589, a red building where sausage used to be made.

The oldest building I have seen in Northern Europe.

After being in Spain it was unbelievably cold here. It was overcast and the wind blew right through my winter coat, so we took a taxi. Everyone thought it was so funny, because it is only five minutes to the hotel. But age has its privileges.  

Middelfart, Denmark

Dick is back in working mode, so it's up early and get off by 7:30. Of course I don't need to tag along, but sometimes it's easier than catching a train and meeting him somewhere down the line. 


We spent the evening in Middelfart, (yes, I know it is a funny name,) west of Copenhagen. Denmark is a bunch of islands connected either by ferry or more recently by bridges. Even the connection to Sweden is by a never ending bridge, which by train travels first above ground and then miles underground. Like everything else in Denmark, the bridge is a modern, simple steel structure, which will, I'm sure,  last for centuries. Unlike the road in front of Dick's office in Florence, that started taking on water. When the road was opened, one of the barrels was missing. Just imagine if this road with so much traffic had suddenly collapsed. 


I ask you, how could you tar over a road with out all the barrels underneath, or did the Italians just forget one at the end of the road and thought, "oh well, who will know?" never thinking that after a few years the barrels could move and leave a space in the middle. You have to love the Italians!!!!!


We stayed in a fabulous hotel in Middelfart, with wide hallways the size of those in palaces with a rug that is red and green and yellow with a braid running down the side, a big room with two beds pushed together, a big TV, a Danish modern desk and a sitting area of red velvet sofa and chairs. Wow the first time I have liked a hotel in Denmark. Usually the rooms are so tiny, you have to crawl over the bed to get from one side to the other. So this was a real treat. Naturally we are only staying one night. Who knows what tomorrow brings!!!!!


There was a wonderful restaurant with white table cloths and black chairs, a huge window to look out of and a bar, fairly well stocked with even grand marnier, which we had a couple of glasses. . We sat at the window and looked out on the parking lot. The hotel is built in a circle with five buildings of red brick, trimmed in white painted wood. The roofs are gable peaked and the windows are very large and beautiful.  We were told that the buildings was at one time a hospital. One building held those with infectious diseases and the others held only those who are sick but not infectious.  The cars are packed in two lines, silver, black, clean shiny, very new, as if they were up for sale.


We had a buffet of salad, a beautiful salad. Only at Pizza Hut have I seen one better. The buffet consisted of potatoes, fried, scalloped, chicken fried with pineapple and the neck of the beef, done rare. The dessert was cake and homemade ice cream. All in all a very nice meal. 

Flying to Copenhagen

Vitoria Plaza

Yesterday I awoke early to repack my bags. I had a terrible premonition that something would go wrong, so decided to put enough clothes to last the weekend into a cloth bag in case Air France lost my luggage. I couldn't find a direct flight, so the chances of losing my luggage in the octopus of Charles De Gaulle Airport  increase. 

My European hairdo

Suzanne and I had tea and bread and cheese for breakfast and talked about meeting again in the early summer. She might come to the US in the late summer or early fall. 

I didn't need to be at the airport until after 1pm, but it is a 2 hour trip by bus from Vitoria-Bilbao-Airport, so I left at 9:25 and caught the 9:30AM bus right down the street from Suzanne's house.   I was lucky, because the bus in Bilbao that goes to the airport was already waiting to leave. So I made it to the airport at 11AM. Took a short coffee in the cafe and then asked Air France if I could check in early, and they said negative, that the desk would open at 1:30PM. 

I relaxed and continued reading "To Siberia" by Per Petterson, a book about two teenagers, a brother and sister, before, during and directly after WWII in Denmark. Occasionally I took a break and walked around the airport. It is small, all the airlines are in a semi-circle in one room. Off this room is quite a large cafe and a shop called Aeroshop, which is advertising Mentos, newspapers and snacks, but it was closed, the shop looking lonely with its empty shelves. 

At 1:30 I was first in line to check in. I gave her my passport and the reservation number. She looked at her computer and started shaking her head.  I had no reservation, she said. I pulled out my computer and showed her the email confirmation. She called Air France and after half an hour, she apologized but there was no reservation. So who knows, I may have been scammed. But at that moment that is not something to debate or look into. Now I needed a ticket to get to Copenhagen. Dick was meeting me and we had a big weekend set up for my birthday in Sweden. So I bought a ticket and was lucky that there were a few seats still open to Paris. 


I got on the flight and next to me was a strange looking man. He reminded me of Doc Martin without hair, the same arrogant look. He had those lips that stick out, typical of the French. But I decided not to try to converse, because he made no attempt to be friendly. Instead I finished "To Siberia," and then began "I curse the river of time" also by Per Petterson. 

I arrived in Paris at the hated airport. Luckily I had more than 2 hours between flights, because I had to move from one building to another and that took an hour. Go out and catch a bus. Then walk half a mile to the gate. One has to remember, I have to be careful about leg pain most of the time, and as long as I don't rush it's bearable. So there is no running down the hallways whether I miss the flight or not.


I had never been to this part of the airport, outbuildings of some sort, like New York was many years ago. Or it may still be like that at JFK, because I never use that airport. 


I got to the gate and yippee a small cafe was open right beside it. So I ate a salad, yogurt. sandwich and a glass of beer. Something new for me. I have always disliked beer, but now it is quite comforting. 


I was put on first class on the flight. I suppose the clerk behind the desk felt sorry for the mixup as I did and decided to give me a treat. It is only an hour, so not much sense really. They gave us a snack of chocolate pudding, some kind of spread for bread. But the bread was cold and chewy, not like French bread at all. So since I was not hungry anyway, I passed.  Then I slept for half an hour.  Luckily I did, because there is an hour's walk in the Copenhagen airport, through many hallways, past dozens of shops and restaurants, which most were closed because of the late hour, and then you get your luggage. The case did arrive, so my premonition was not the lost bag, and I went out to meet Dick. We had a 20 minute train ride to Malmoe and five minutes to the hotel. 

When we opened the door to the hotel at 23:30, there were 20 steps to the reception.

Shopping at the Boot Market

For those who are not familiar with British English, a boot is a trunk in your car. And what you see here is a Boot Market. As you can see, barely, there is a black car with its boot open.


Lots of people showed up, because this is the last sale of the season. And they don't charge taxes on what people manage to sell here. Surprise, surprise.

I loved these things. They will be filled with boiling hot water and put into your bed to warm it. It is especially good for those who don't have central heating. 

If you look closely, you will see a lot of antique pots and pans. I especially loved the blue coffee pot.  A typical color in the Scandinavian countries. Too bad I didn't have room in my bag. I would have bought it.

I loved this lady's hair. So I took her photo.

Last but not least, a view of the market. Quite a few people attended. Unfortunately, the number of sales people were very few, because of the cold and unpredictable weather.

Taxes in Denmark

There was an article in the newspaper. The Danes are now taxing fat, fat in beef, chicken, veal and eggs, butter, cheese, even the chocolate in nuts for the birds. Naturally they say it's to stop people (and birds?)from having heart attacks due to the ingestion of fat. But I wonder. Is that the truth or do they just need more tax?


The tax authorities have found imaginative ways of finding money. If you are a bricklayer and build your own house, you have to pay a tax for the money it would have cost you to have the house built by someone else. If you help a neighbor put in a patio or do it yourself, you still have to pay a tax for the money it would have cost.


Don't misunderstand me, there are a lot of good things about having cradle to grave welfare, but it's not perfect. And this is a country with only a few more than 5 million people. How would it work for us?

A Chinese Woman in Denmark

Wherever we go, people tell us 'cross cultural' stories. Many are funny, many are sad, and many are just plain scary. Here goes one of those.


A young Chinese woman is studying business. She decides to do her Masters Thesis in Denmark and flies to a medium sized city with a good business school. The university staff finds her a small apartment near the university library and she moves in. The Danes tend to be stand offish, not quick to make friends of new people in the neighborhood, so young Chinese woman, lets call her Lee, had no friends. That can be problematic, because you don't know where to shop, where to get your hair cut, where to find a good doctor, dentist with out the local knowledge. 


Finally after two months, someone at the university approached her and asked her how she was doing.
"I'm doing well," she answered.
"But you must be lonely," the staff lady said. "I never see you talking to anyone."
"No," Lee said, "I am too busy to be lonely. I spend time with my daughter before I go to the library and when I return home, so I am not lonely." 
"Your daughter?" the staff lady gasped. "We didn't know you had a daughter.  How old is she?"  
"Two," Lee said smiling. 
"Is she in a Creche?"
"Oh, no," Lee answered. "There was no room in the creche."
"But what do you do with her?"
"She stays in the apartment, but it's okay because I have THE CHAIR."
"The Chair?" The staff lady is almost gasping at the idea that the little girl is left alone.
"Yes," said Lee, "we have breakfast and play awhile and then I put her in the chair. Her arms are bound to the sides of the chair, and there is a hole where she can go potty. Then I turn on the TV and she watches all day. After 8 hours I come back, we have dinner and play awhile before she goes to bed."


Being Danish, the woman went out and found a place in a creche for the child, so Lee could continue studying. 
When Lee was interviewed, she explained that this is quite common in China. Everyone has to work. Parents are usually in the village, so they have no choice. Either work or starve. 

Cross Cultural. And the Chinese government helped out the ailing banks. So much for communism caring about their population.

A Few Hours in Copenhagen

I was so lucky. My friends Jette and Kjeld picked me up. I was wondering how I would manage the luggage on the train. We drove back to Copenhagen and ran straight into a week long bike race. I mean really. Why can't these races be in the countryside. Imagine blocking a city for bikes!!


In the meantime, their granddaughter, Anna, kept us all laughing with her antics. At least it made the time fly faster while watching hundreds of bikers pedaling away.


We arrived at the Omega hotel at 3pm and couldn't get in. I tried the code over and over again. I thought maybe I'd forgotten it, because I memorized it in the US. But we were an hour too early. At 4pm everything worked fine.


Dick arrived and we went out to a Balkan restaurant across from the railway station. It was bright, cheery with violins playing and the food was pretty good. A few glasses of wine and everything glowed. Yes, It was a great evening. 

A Day in Horsens

                                                           A statue of Diana

Morning:


I'm a closet junky.  I love rolls with poppy seeds.  MMMMM. I  got hooked on those when we lived in Germany, fresh rolls in the morning covered with poppy seeds. They are as good as French croissants and  make you feel good besides.


Jette makes these muffins in very odd cups. They are small and rubbery, but you can bake with them, stick them in boiling water and wash them in the dishwasher. I have to have some, not that I bake, heaven forbid. But they are like having toys around the house.

We are off to Horsens, a small town.  I will sit and have coffee, while Jette and Kjeld do water aerobics.  Then we will go walking.


I have started some exercises as well again. Sit ups, push ups etc. Anything that doesn't need a weight.  Weights don't travel well.


Evening


We had a great time in Horsens. I took them out to lunch. We ate fresh fish at the Sailing Club.  So tonight we had a beautiful salad.

A Greek salad with eggs. The oranges are just for looks. Afterwards we had strawberries and grapes for dessert.


On the way home we stopped and photographed the crocuses leaping out of the ground.

Imagine the man hours needed to plant all of these. Good for the unemployed. 

A Lazy day

Today was a very beautiful day, warmer and sunny. I awoke at 9am and had breakfast with Jette and Kjeld.  We always have bread with jam or cheese and coffee. Quite nice. Jette makes her own bread and she also buys some rolls with poppy seeds. Mmm. 


We watched "27 dresses," a movie I saw long ago, but it was fun. A feel good film. And there were two episodes of Waking the Dead, a British cold case series.  Jette made some muffins, but they are the small ones that used to be normal in the US. We had them as a night cap.  


I worked on my doll. It now has a beard and moustache. Its personality is developing. I think we'll call him Pedro. 

I walked  a mile. It took 23 minutes. But one way I was moving at a pretty good clip for me. I pretty much staggered back. 

Relaxing in Denmark

We have been traveling constantly, seeing family and friends. It is often overwhelming flying, then unpacking, repacking and flying again. I can't relax enough to write. But now I am in Horsens, a small town in Denmark with our friends, Jette and Kjeld. It is always peaceful here, so after a day or two I feel human again.

                                              Jette and Kjeld in Varanasi

Denmark is windy, gale force winds, but those Danes get out and walk, making sure they remain as strong as their Viking ancestors.. Yesterday, the wind was so strong I felt unbalanced. Tottering like the old woman I have become.Yet we walked about a mile, which did me a world of good.


Flowers are peeking their lovely heads from the ground and one spies a splash of yellow, white, purple in the dead grass. It's a promise that spring is just around the corner. After this long hard winter, it is a promise that we all are looking forward to.

This is their house, made of brick inside and out.                                      

Louisiana

The last day in Denmark Dick and I spent at the Louisiana with our very good friends, Jette and Kjeld.


No, the Louisiana is not a fried chicken restaurant, though I know the name makes one think of that. It is a very dignified, modern art museum.  And it is located in the tiny village of Humlebaek, which makes me think of hobbits. Even the houses have the look of Middle Earth.

 I love the way the roof seems to hug the ground.

 I think the rooves are thatched. And moss grows on it.




Jette and Kjeld are from a tiny village near Horsens---I love these names. They both adore going through museums, and going with them makes it more fun for us.

There was a wonderful exhibition of the same artists we saw at D'Orsay in Paris, 19th and 20th century artists like Matisse, Kokoshka, Renoir and Van Gogh. We weren't allowed to take photographs at this museum, even without a flash.

Afterwards, we drove down the coast and saw little fishing villages. It was a wonderful day.