Picking Up the Pieces

So, I am pretty proud that I have been able to travel and post every day on this trip. But, the long day getting home got the better of me. So, this may be a bit episodic, but it should finish up a flawless trip, a wonderful journey:

Traveling Day

So, transition day. The bicycles were packed and ready to go across the street, and we were glad for the location of this hotel. We were able to get carts and bring them into the hotel to load up-very convenient! The bags packed easily. Most of our stuff needed washing, so packing was more stuffing than anything. We had some worry over the weight of the bicycle boxes, but we felt they were close enough to not warrant any detail work in odd sized luggage.

The immediate desire we had in the morning was for us to find a way to post a package to family that had all the extra tape Blessed Ole had given us. He made sure that we were prepared. Plus, I wanted to leave my camera card reader for Finn. I had checked maps, and found a couple of prospective places to walk to. I was down to 70 Danish kroner cash, and my credit cards have been clunking on the ticket machines, so I found what looked like a post office near the hotel we used when we first arrived. Of course, we had bicycled there on arrival. But the general plan was to walk one way (3.5 km) and then hitch a train back.

It was overcast, and we made the walk with a little drizzle, but we found out that this postal place was an un-attended machine drop and pickup, no help to us. We tried one more place at a Meny grocery, but it would not open until 10 am, and we just didn’t have the time. So, back to a train station, credit card wouldn’t work again, but I paid 48 krona, the minimum, for a 3 km ride back to the airport. Easy.

We took showers, put the final touches on our expensive, IKEA duffles (kidding), and made our way down to the lobby, loading everything on carts and checking out of the Copenhagen Clarion. We had a couple of “squeezes” to get into the departure area, but everything went smoothly, and oversized luggage was just fine about the bike boxes.

Actually, the boxes that Blessed Ole got for us were the best size we have had so far. And, after we unload them in Santa Barbara, my intention is to keep them for our next trip.

We made our way through security, stopped to purchase some Bornholm Snaps to take back to California, and pretty much just went to the departure gate. I had brought my trusty “Aqua d Or” water bottle and I filled it with the intention of drinking a lot of Danish water on the flight, a brace against jet-lag.

We had been upgraded to Premium class, but I was unable to get seats side by side. I figured I would beg my case with a passenger and try to swap. And, that is just what I did. Lynette and I ended up in the second row, just fine. Oh, and when we checked in at departures, I had been told that I was chosen for an “extra” security check. That meant that prior to boarding, I got called to a back room, had to take my shoes off and have my backpack swabbed for explosives. Easy.

The flight was eleven hours and fifteen minutes. And even though the room and recline of the seat was fabulous, it was long. I just can’t binge watch the movies and get by. There was a guy in the front row seat to my left, and I watched him type on a “script,” for at least 9 hours of the flight. He was extremely focused. I was amazed.

Eventually, all torture, both severe and benign, come to an end. We arrived in LAX, passed the hoops (and I praise our Global Traveler cards), and made our way to the corner by the passenger pickup area, where I left Lynette with two bicycles, four bags, and a crush of passengers watching the jammed busses and cars honk and flail for forward progress in the crazy loop around the arrival ports for the different airlines.

Now, in Denmark, I had told everyone how terrible LAX was, and how intimidating traffic was, and I must have done a fine job of describing it, because I had certainly convinced myself that it was going to be bad. I made my way to B9, the purple pickup area for rental car companies, leaving Lynette to watch Angelenos abuse a poor airport employee who was trying to keep traffic moving. I spotted the Avis bus parallel to me, and raced to get there.

It was a mad-hatter’s ride to the Avis area, and even the bus driver was talking to herself and making angry noises in her intercom to the Avis mother ship. A traveler next to me, a woman, looked at me and we both shook our heads at disbelief in the ride. But, I disembarked at Avis Preferred, found my name on the board, with a Dodge Caravan in spot L22. I dropped the seats down for loading the bicycle boxes, gritted my teeth and drove back to the madness.

Now, I have made a point of talking about how Danish road design “forces” driver cooperation. In this case, the mass of busses, and cars and slow speed does the same. I almost missed the turn, but was able to park right next to Lynette, and we loaded the goods into the van, and made our way back into the jerk and stop of the traffic flow.

I had booked a room at the Crown Plaza for the night, a good choice for $150, and we didn’t have far to go to park, take minimal things upstairs, and get some rest after almost 24 hours of wakeful problem solving and travel. We pretty much skipped any more food. The airline food was okay, not great, but rest is what we needed, and Lynette was asleep fast.

Morning

I dreaded the drive back, but it wasn’t bad. We left the hotel at about 7:30, hitting morning traffic, which was slow, but only cost time. We had to creep all the way to the Getty, but once over the hill, and heading out of the San Fernando Valley, things picked up quite well. And, looking at the clock, I could see that we would probably be able to return the rental car by about 10:30 am. Originally, not planning the night in LA, I had figured about 10 am, but I had gotten the car late, so it ended up being about $100, roughly what a shuttle (no bikes though) would cost. I like our strategy on all this.

The dog was ecstatic to see us. The cats acted like we were Swedish terrorists, and skulked behind furniture for the longest time. But, eventually, Little Cat and Obie came round, and we were home.

Taking Notes

So, just as an indicator of Lynette’s attitude about these trips, she set about washing and repacking to be “ready to go.” What a trooper. I thought of the grim look on her face on the last ride, the uphill part, the rain, the wind, my offer to board a train, and her response, “I’ll leave it up to you,” and then her immense satisfaction at finishing the ride, with a real ride.

I went about making a list of what I took, what I used, what I could leave, and just planned for next time. By the way, (this is Wednesday), we took our morning walk this morning for coffee, and much of the conversation was about what worked, what didn’t, and how much support and love we got from our Danish cousins.

Some of the things we noted on our walk. Importantly, Lynette took no falls this trip. She was proud of this (I think there were two, last trip), and this is important because we love this travel, and we both understand that we need to be safe, and that injuries could end a trip. (Note, there have been multiple times when I get “cold feet,” a narrow shoulder, traffic, etc., and Lynette has encouraged getting it “over with,” and we have moved on.)

We traveled far less than on previous trips, but because we were taking it day by day, we really had some flexibility to respond to weather, to distance, and to the messages our bodies were giving us at any time. We were not really in bicycle shape for the trip. And, once again we gained strength over time. I have used 50 km as a benchmark for our trips (30 miles), and I think we were under that for the whole trip.

Once again, we had too much stuff. We were fortunate because Lynette’s cousins took at least 15 pounds of pannier fat off our hands for the trip. For better or worse, when we are traveling, we have our riding clothes, and our civilian clothes, and re-use when possible. Lynette has a green manual wash bag, but she only had to use it once. We found other options for washing. By the way, Denmark is a social democracy. People are taken care of. Self laundromats are not common.

We will get better.

Of course, the main components of this successful trip were varied and multiple. Most importantly, we moved our bodies. I know personally, that I feel better for the activity, both my back, my hip, and strength all improved.

And, everything else:

We connected with awesome family, who embraced us into small Denmark, family life in Denmark, not the big stuff, but the important stuff. We are so grateful for our inclusion.

Lynette and I are a team. A trip like this is a challenge. We love each other and support each other. Sometimes, like when the riding is grim, and I have carried our progress too far beyond food, I wonder why she is so willing to do this with me. But, I am thankful. I’m aware that she has little control over events on these trips, and her focus is always on riding safely and like a Dane, on a straight, true path. But, we figure things out. Paths are found. Bikes are packed. Our world moves.

And then there is what we learn. Of course, the embrace of culture is key. Our travel mantra, the answer is “Yes.” Do you want? Do you want to? Do you want to try?

YES.

No question. Sure, maybe you get a plate of gelatinous meat, but the point of travel is to bridge cultural differences, and saying no to anything would be criminal. And we had family birthday parties, exposure to weaving, Icelandic ponies, rutting deer, sand sculptures, and, really important, Danish schooling and youth. Just the best.

People. There isn’t enough that I could say about the folks we have touched and been supported by on this trip. Primary are cousins Finn, Marianne, Anne-Marie, Øle, and all the extended family. But more than that, everyone we met on the trip was kind and good to us. From Airbnb hosts, to hotel staff, just the best, and we are appreciative.

Of course, I could not disregard food. Sure, I have this thing for food porn photos. I believe strongly that one could view a slideshow of what they ate on a trip, and re-live the trip, with stories. And, we had a wonderful eating experience in Denmark. Of course, we often ate salads from the local markets, or had veggies and hummus and crackers for a meal, but the variety of tasty goods was solid.

And politics. So, we were on the road for six weeks. We watched television once, just to look at a weather report. We were aware of US news, just because we were online. (BTW, ATT charges 15 dollars a day for international access. We purchased 30 day SIMs for our unlocked phones, 60 GB data/10 hours talk, for 15 dollars each. US rip off. Save an unlocked phone. We ALWAYS knew where we were.)

But the point is that the Danes never held any ill feelings toward us. I think they see our administration as dangerous, but we made such good, happy connections by saying, “Yeah, we are from California, and we are not here to buy Greenland.”

(*Trump said he wanted to buy Greenland and dissed the Danish government. Insulting.)

Instant friendship and laughter. Such good people, the Danish. So generous. So accepting.

This is about components of our joy. And, the most important component, the most important aspect of this whole thing is, “What’s next?”

Truth. The journey continues, and we are blessed to be able to do it. Lynette, I suspect, would be happy to go to Denmark again, now, next week, when she is packed (and, she is packed). We shall see. We hope to see visitors from our family in Denmark, and we hope to continue our adventures. And, we are hoping for a journey with Mallory and David.

The future will bring itself.

Approaching Liftoff

There are jumps to be made, problems to solve, but one challenge at a time. Today’s problem was to get the bicycles packed into the boxes that Blessed Ole obtained for us. Boxes and bicycles were in the luggage room near the banquet hall that was used for the charitable event last night. But, I had my writing to finish, and I confess to reluctance to get to the packing, assuming I would have to take the bicycles apart more than before. The boxes were definitely smaller than the ones we used in August for the crossing, but the cardboard was also sturdier.

About 8:30, we made our move down to the lobby, with our bicycle tools and straps to hold various parts of the bicycles stable for the packing. I also had a backup plan for putting two wheels into a separate box, if necessary, and checking that box as Lynette’s second checked bag (she only used one on the arrival).

The kids in at the desk were wonderful. They opened the door to the storage room and said we could use the large, carpeted entryway to disassemble the bicycles and pack them. Truthfully, the Clarion across from the airport has been much more expensive than I am used to, but the convenience has been great. We are a short walking distance to the metro, the airport departure area (and carts), the trains, and a market, our go-to cheap dinner option.

And so we got to work. Blessed Ole had given us some tape, pipe insulation, and pens. He made sure we were prepared. So, with both bicycles, I deflated tires, removed the seat, the front wheel, the pedals, the front fender, and the spindles from the front tires. Mainly using Velcro straps, I was able to spin the handlebars around and secure them to the frame. We ended up, I think, with a tighter, more comprehensive fit than ever before. Again, that Ole! Appreciate his preparations for us. I wish we could get the unused materials (tape, etc.) back to him.

Frankly, I was a bit emotionally drained after packing the bicycles. It was a worry for me. But, that hoop is behind us. The next hoop is getting everything across the street to the terminal. But I think it will be fine.

Lynette stayed down to label the boxes and I came back up to shower. She lost her room key (packed with the bikes?), and so she had a bit of a wait outside the door before I was able to let her in. “There was a long line at the checkout,” she said. I swallowed all laughter. Not a time to test 43 years of bliss.

We reorganized for a final run into the city. The opening of a new “ring” line metro meant that riding was free for today-good for us. So, we hopped on and rode to Nørrebro, getting off and making our way to a familiar food hall, Torvehallerne, a tourist spot of course, but with interesting food shops. We were ready for a bit of food, feeling “peckish,” as my Welsh friend Hugh would say. We wandered, we looked, and eventually we split three empanadas (Argentinian), with an Argentinian wine and beer. And it was delicious. We had a spinach/goat cheese empanada, mild bbq chicken with sweet bell pepper, and a carne that was just wonderful. The fillings were just the best. We ate on a bench outside the hall. The sun came and went.

Now, there is a flag store near Nørrebro metro, but closed today. One of our plans is to hop on the metro tomorrow and be there at opening to purchase a Danish pennant flag (Vimpel). I think we can do this and not compromise our sanity on checking in. We found the shop location, for reference tomorrow.

Then we wandered the shops and street some more, stopping when we were interested. We passed Strøget, where we were yesterday, and noted that although so many of the buildings are familiar, we really don’t know what they are. I think on our next trip, we may need the city tour, or the Red hop on/hop off bus that routes through the city. We should not remain totally ignorant.

We also spent a lot of time researching (with Finn’s help) “salt licorice,” purchasing many different kinds, most of which we will give to Keld in Santa Barbara. But it was a fun venture.

We walked our way to the Bridge food area (a pedestrian/bicycle bridge at the bottom of Nyhavn that crosses the canal and is familiar). I wanted another Danish sausage, and we split it. Now, I haven’t got many photos of this, the weather was clouding, and rain began to fall. We decided to head back toward the airport, and I stopped in and bought a cheap $7 dollar umbrella for the walk. It barely held up in the wind, but we made our way to a bakery near the Metro in Christiana.

Others had the same idea, and the bakery was crowded. We had a couple of familiar pastries, and two cappuccinos, satisfying indeed. So, empanadas, beer, Danish sausage, and pastry, a fitting honor to our salacious dining in Denmark. We resolved some bathroom issues, and got a bread at the market for an inexpensive-motel dinner in the room.

We did make a trip into the terminal looking for a dress shop, but I think it must be behind security, so we will look for it tomorrow.

And, then, we were pooped. Tomorrow, two carts from across the street. Four bags, two bike boxes, the world will move, we will move, and we will be in another jet lagged state. As a reminder, I have booked a hotel for Monday night, to avoid driving while tired. We should be back and scratching our heads in Santa Barbara by noon on Tuesday.

The post lacks in photos, but not enthusiasm. I feel like we have been in the first car of the Metro, the whole way. We have seen and done so much, we are grateful for all of the assistance, and, thank goodness, we have tons of unfinished business, the magnet that draws one back for more.

Loving Denmark.

Mary’s Bridge

Today was so rich and layered, and it is so late, and I am going to have a difficult time memorializing all the wonderful things that happened today. Let us say, that the Danish gods rain upon us, and reward us, and the outcome is a balance that defines life. The highs, the lows, they all give meaning to where we are, what is going on now, and what is in the mirror of the past.

So. Background.

Jaegerspris Castle, is on a peninsula on the west side of Roskilde Fjord. Fredrikssund, is on the east.

At some point in the ancestral history of Lynette’s family, Great Grandmother Bodil Christensen traveled across the narrow strait from the Jaegerspris Castle to Frederikssund and on to Copenhagen, eventually making her way to her husband in Flensburg, on the larger Jutland peninsula. She probably took a boat, or a ferry. The Kronprins Frederik Bridge was built in 1935, connecting the two sides, but in recent years it has been problematic for traffic and commerce between the two sides of the Roskilde Fjord.

And so, without detail, because I have none, a new bridge has been built to connect the pincers of the Roskilde Fjord, east and west, with a modern bridge, a major project. The Crown Princess, for whom the bridge has been named, would attend the ceremony and cut the ribbon to open the bridge. People from both sides of the fjord would be able to walk the bridge, and enjoy the the product of community effort. Planning for ceremonies began in March, and, we were lucky enough to be invited to the event, the crossing from West to East (the west folk a much more compact group), and the ambiance of our history, a great grandmother who made the passage on a boat, eventually immigrating to the United States in 1882, and settling in Wisconsin. Profound, indeed.

So, we dearly wanted to be a part of this, and Anne-Marie and Blessed Ole got tickets for us. Now, we were in the hotel near the airport (more on that), so we had to get there, but Blessed Ole figured out a path. We bought large city passes (all busses, metro, trains for 24 hours), picked up a train at the airport, transferred at Copenhagen Central, and ended up in Roskilde, where Ole and Anne-Marie picked us up.

Now, that is the itinerary. The details involve so much human interaction that I will fail to describe it accurately.

Blessed Ole had given me a clear itinerary, two trains, one transfer. It was rock.

We had a tangent issue because we had two reservations at this hotel (the original and a revision to add a day so that we could do the bridge ceremony). We allowed time to figure out the trains, but when we stopped downstairs to switch the second booking, they asked about the meal we had the previous night and the use of the mini-bar (NONE of which we had done). Apparently, folks can get a meal, name a room number, sign a ticket, and boom, free food.

It all worked out.

So, we were really early. We had sooo much time, but we were figuring it out. The instructions named a platform, and we went to check it out. There were two platforms on either side of the tracks, the other going to Sweden, and when we were comfortable with the logistics and direction, we went back up for chocolate/almond croissants and cappuccinos.

As time drew near, we went back down, and sat on a bench. Now, here is the funny thing, we had a stream of folks asking me about the direction of the train. There was an Italian woman, great fun in conversation, an Asian woman, a guy asking the Italian woman to regurgitate what I had said. The whole thing was funny. I told Anne-Marie that I was bringing nine new friends to the bridge opening.

And, of course, when we got on the train, with a group seat, an Egyptian, living in Germany, piled a lot of stuff in the luggage rack, and conversed with us. I thought it was interesting because he asked how long we had been married, and was impressed. He seemed a kind guy.

We got off at Copenhagen Central, and I asked immediately for the directions to the next platform on Blessed Ole’s list, and chatting DSB folks pointed us the way. There was some confusion about the departure platform (5, not 6), but it helps to talk to people, and even with 8 minute transitions, stuff works.

And, then, like Blessed Ole magic, we were in Roskilde, hugging and anticipating the real impact of the day.

---

We bundled into the yellow car, and Anne-Marie drove us to the departure point in Skibby. Busses from the antique bus museum were to carry us to the West bridge departure area. We huddled with locals, we moved to “check-in,” very formal, but loaded onto classic busses, chronologically gifted busses, and Blessed Ole said, “This is a good day. I will ride on an old bus.”

Bless, Blessed Ole.

The ride among historic busses was fabulous, although our bus chugged a bit and the driver seemed to have to work to keep progress forward. One of the busses looked like something from tomorrow land in 1950’s Disneyland.

We unloaded about a kilometer away from the beginning of the bridge, and strolled up to the line for the crossing. The bridge was organized for runs across the bridge, and the far side had food trucks and exhibits. It was going to be quite a day. A band on our side played “Rock Around the Clock,” just before the rope drop, and Anne-Marie and I did a little swing dancing. On the other side, the Crown Princess cut the ribbon, and we were off, part of an historic crossing.

The weather was pretty good, mostly sunshine with some occasional clouds that just made the whole event even more dynamic. We had a lot of fun making jokes and laughing and taking photos of the scenery. Ole was interviewed by someone with a camera, and we could see him go into educator mode. The view of the Fjord was spectacular, and we could see how shallow most of the water was, as well as a view to Skudelev to the south, where they found the scuttled Viking ships, the old bridge to the north, and small islands named for their resemblance to the keels of a small ship.

Midway through the crossing, we passed the very first of the walkers from the East, a young boy and girl. I said, “Hey, you guys are the first. That is so great. You are number one!” Of course this was in English, and they reacted with surprise, I assume with the language, but then looked pretty happy. Anne-Marie checked to see if they understood, and they said “Of course.” Amazing bi-lingual country.

At the end, masses of people flowed into our side of the bridge, walking to the west. I got separated from everyone while taking a panorama, but Lynette arrived in time to see Princess Mary, depart in a car, about 100 yards away, waving enthusiastically, and, according to Lynette, “Making eye contact with me!” The Danes seem generally enthusiastic about royalty.

We chose to have lunch from a Thai food truck, one local to Skibby and familiar to Ole and Anne-Marie, and it was good because the “Mobil Pay” transactions were not going through-too many cell phones. We could see crowds all along the bridge, a really big event.

A children’s book supported by business donations and written and illustrated by a local author, Karen Borch, had been printed (10,000 copies), and was being given away. The author was there. We received one and Karen wrote a dedication to Bodil and Lars, the brother and sister to our shared heritage to Finn and Anne-Marie. The book is about animals who visit the special locations on both sides of Roskilde Fjord, and it reinforces the cooperation and shared interests being joined by the new bridge. Pretty cool.

Lots of clubs and organizations were represented, with replication of the history of Denmark. There were Viking cooking demonstrations, youth gymnastics demonstrations, art demonstrations, and music (weirdly American gospel-“When the Saints Come Marching In”), and some line dancing. All very interesting, upbeat, and jovial, a true festival with so, so many people.

Sadly, we said our final goodbyes to Anne-Marie and Ole, and they pointed us in the directions of a shuttle bus to a train station, an S-train with many, many stops to Copenhagen. We got off at the Central station, and wandered about until we found the big shopping street, Strøget.

Somewhat familiar with the street, we were amazed at busy and lively it was on a Friday night. The street was crowded and energized. Competing street buskers worked for attention. It was wild. We stopped in the Irish bar for a beer and Irish coffee, and for me to check on a message that we had been upgraded (again) for our flight home-premium class-whoohoo. And we made best friends with a celebrant who had clearly worked hard to consume enough of the low alcohol beer here to ask us if we were “lovers,” and to offer to have us ride him home on our bicycles if he needed some help. Pretty funny-harmless, but he went down to the toilet and we decided to move on.

Now, we had 24 hours on our large city pass, but really all we needed was to get back to the hotel. By the way, they are opening a new metro “ring” in the city, and tomorrow we will be able to ride for free. Lucky break. If the packing goes well, we can play in town. The guys in the photo above built the ring. They posed for me.

We found the metro, and popped back quickly to the hotel. The hotel was popping, too. There was a photo shoot going on, video cameras, and women in sequined dresses, beaded dresses, gowns, with champagne in hands. It was wild. I went to the desk and asked the woman, “What’s going on? Is the Queen here?” She laughed and said it was a charitable event to benefit children in India. I noted that I was under-dressed.

We went to the nearby Netto and grabbed some small sandwich fixings (we still have mustard that we bought somewhere along on the trip), and we headed back. The lobby had cleared to the conference room, but there were still some interesting characters about.

Tomorrow we pack the bikes.

View from the hotel

And, finally a selfie. No Ole, he was off being famous on video I suspect.

Looks like a Soft Day

Woke up this morning to some significant rain. Of course.

This is our last 25 mile ride into Copenhagen, near the airport, and we have arranged to meet Anne-Marie and Ole around 3 to get the bicycle boxes and the extra gear that we left with Finn, which they will pick up on the way. (More gratitude for the support!)

As a back up plan, there is a train station nearby, and we could cheat our way into the city, but I would much rather finish the ride, pushing our total mile into the mid-400 mile trip total, which would please me. But, it would also be okay to limit misery (and be safer) to hop the train.

We sat for a long time looking at radar maps and guessing that it would clear, figuring that we had some time to spare. (By the way, it looks like we are cycling into a southerly wind, but a mild wind. More wind in the face.) Judging from the maps, we thought that there might be a break in the hard rain around 9 am. All the mapping things said 90 minutes into Copenhagen, so we knew it would be 180 minutes of riding, just because the mapping devices are so terribly inaccurate, I think.

So, we cleaned up, put our gear by the door, and waited, watching outside, and hoping for a break. And the break, a start without rain is kind of important. It is one thing to go outside and load up the bikes in the middle of a torrential downfall, and it is another to have the downfall grow upon you during the ride. During the ride, you are intact, with some weather protection, one has options for stopping for a while when it is the worst if a friendly tree is available for cover.

A friendly start makes difficult conditions along the way, endurable.

And so, we left our safe harbor, had a chat with Shanti, our friendly Nepalese hostess, and struggled to get out on the bikes (mostly psychological because of the weather-same bikes, same panniers, just context). And the weather held for only the hill going up to Farum village. And the skies opened, and we stopped, for a while, under trees.

The baptism, which should bring up some issues, was not immediate. We were not immediately wet. There may be a larger truth here. We got a little more wet. My understanding from this is that “really wet,” is a process, not an event, and if it is event, well, it could be catastrophic. None of this was such.

We did not get very far, before we sheltered under some tree limbs. And, I struggled with the future.

We were prepared, but, of course, it meant more struggle than a casual ride. All doable, but not particularly scenic nor enthusiastic, memorialized for difficulty, not weather and scenery. We waited a while, and when it seemed to lift, we continued. And, of course the rain did not lift, but rather it pulsed to the turns of our wheels, now strong, now light, now wind-blown, now not. The wind did her duty to Denmark, as she always does, but this time with Lynette and I struggling to Copenhagen.

We passed.

We had one significant, Danish hill, surrounded with forest, with the road to the restaurant by the lake off to the left, and the tunnel of trees sheltered us from the wind and the rain, but charged us the altitude gain with our stupidly too-heavy gear and swearing about the weather. But, the rise was good with the shelter, because every rise, gives a “coast.”

When I was a kid, my bicycle had this braking feature. If you pedaled forward (heck, I think it only had one gear), you went forward. However, if you wanted to stop, you “pedal-pushed” backward and the bicycle braked. It was a Schwinn, with a bulbous headlight and chrome fenders that deteriorated massively over time. It was shiny. For a while.

Of course, we were riding bicycles that were too heavily loaded, bicycles that had spent the night in the rain (morning, get on the bike, wet seat, check!), and had not had any air checks in the last 700 kilometers. I told Lynette as we pushed off, “Remember, your brakes are going to slip in the wet!”

Now, Lynette has been very quiet about this, but she has not fallen on this trip, and all the “knock on wood,” salt on the back of the hand, no-hitter baseball superstitions have convinced her that we should not mention it. And no one has, but a rainy day certainly presented a challenge to her.

We gained the rise, but along the way was the issue of the train. We could have thrown in the towel, gone to at least two different train stations early in the ride, and boarded for Copenhagen with our bicycles on the S Train system. Easy. Pushing elbows with students, but easy.

We stopped at the foot of the rise, and I asked Lynette, “This is a stop. Do you want to do a train?” She said, “I just haven’t got it today. I need to work it out. I’m going to be slow.” Of course I took that to mean, let’s go on.

We got to a spot near the top of the altitude gain. “Do you want to look for a train?” She said, “No, I can do this.” Her face was grim. She drank some water. I took it to mean that she was having a lollipops time (kidding) and ready to go on.

Now after the hill and the tunnel of trees, the path was pretty urban, pacing the main highway, protected, with hills or tunnels as we passed major perpendicular highways, but wide and smooth. The issue of the train became irrelevant, we were too close to Copenhagen.

Lynette asked, “How soon to a break?” Soon, I said.

The issue for me was vision. Moisture, not necessarily downpour, was abundant. My glasses were obscured, but the rear-view mirror was also impacted, and it is absolutely necessary for me to see raging Danes cycling up behind, and making sure that Lynette saw the last turn. I wanted a bakery stop, but between navigation and rear connections to Lynette, it was all too hard. My GPS was in my handlebar bag, and I would have to flip it open to look at it, keeping it dry from all the moisture.

We entered the heart of Copenhagen in an unusual way from my past experiences, and not much was familiar, until we hit Tivoli, and the back end of Christiania, which resonated. And, finally, a block from my destination of a storage company, we pulled off to a market center to split a sandwich and have a coffee. It was a good, needed break.

Now Anne-Marie’s husband, “Blessed Ole,” and I will always call him that in third person from now on, had found me some bicycle boxes for the return trip. Not only did he find them, but he repaired one of them and prepared them both for our packing with the thoroughness of a true educator. I think he is a craftsman, an educator, a teacher. A good man.

Anyway, Blessed Ole and wonderful Anne-Marie volunteered to bring the boxes to our hotel across from the airport and meet us today at 2:30. (I booked three days at the end here, in this hotel, to be close for departure and have time to resolve packing issues.). It is not a trivial drive, and we were so appreciative. Plus, they stopped off at Finn’s home to pick up a bag of overpacked goods that we had left with him in late August.

But, I worried. Last night, my usual solid sleep was ragged with the issues of leaving, and problem solving those issues. So, in case the bikes and tires would not all fit in the boxes, I decided to purchase a couple of flat boxes to shape to hold at least two tires, not adding to our luggage tare, but completing our allotment.

After our break at the bakery, we rounded the block and stopped at a Shuregard storage facility and purchased two flat boxes, with a lot of conversation with the guy behind the counter, as always a friendly guy, curious about what we were doing. The problem was that we still had six kilometers to go to get to the airport, with damp, overcast weather, and some wind.

Here was the solution:

The package held just fine. We achieved the hotel intact. The guy at the hotel was great-we put bikes and flat boxes in the luggage room and verified that we could use that area to disassemble the bikes and pack. Blessed Ole and Anne-Marie arrived about 40 minutes later with our two bicycle boxes, thoughtfully prepared with tape and a pen for us to scribe address upon them-Ole is a master, and bundled together for easy transport. So good.

And, the rest was left to just that, rest. We lounged and snacked and took a trip to the market nearby for beer and wine and hummus. It was good.

We did take a walking trip to the airport. I discovered that Airshells (a bicycle box transport rental company) had sold me the boxes last year. They do sell them, but they did not have any in stock currently. So Blessed Ole’s efforts were particularly valuable. We also checked out the conditions for tomorrow’s adventure, two trains to Roskilde, and then a Bridge ceremony for the new bridge across Roskilde Fjord near Fredrikssund-a major, local event. (Lynette’s great grandmother would have crossed that area in the 1870’s on her way to Flensburg, and then immigrating to Wisconsin in 1882.). Looking forward.

Not many photos today. Tough with the rain. I am always caught between taking my wet, dribbled glasses off in a storm, or not. If I take them off, I lose my rear mirror. This time I compromised. I left the glasses on, holding the mirror, but looked over the rim ahead to decide on routing, only using the rear mirror to make sure Lynette was on my tail.

And, enough. Right? Like any journey, it is important to reflect back from time to time. The mirror enables that. But it is also important to look ahead and be mindful of the moment, even when your vision is obscured.

Cousin Finn just sent me a Viking quote that relates:

“There is more honour in accumulating little by little than in reaching for the sky and ending up flat on your face….”

Words to live by.

Dyrehaven-Boys Will Be Boys

So, this morning, we are heading over to the nature area on the other side of the Bakken, Dyrehaven, with huge bucks in rutting season, battling, rolling in dirt and their own urine for romance with the does, and bellowing with testosterone infused rage.

….or not.

Just found out that given marginal weather, we are going to explore a fishing village. Dancing with Danish weather. Good plan, I think

---

Sand Castles

We changed our plans, and decided to go north, on the east side of Roskilde Fjord to Hundested, a town which used to bustle with a ferry that went to Jutland, a service that began in 1934, but was discontinued in recent years. It was also a fishing and industrial area, producing motors for fishing boats and other goods. Today, tourism and crafts have seen a resurgence in the economy, a rebound from losses by the discontinuance of the ferry to Jutland.

The weather was sadly overcast, and cold, but we were off to a new area and happy for the outing. Now, last year we had roughly followed this eastern coast of Roskilde Fjord on bicycles at the end of our trip last year, when we cycled to Helsingør and then back to Copenhagen for our return. But, on that trip we cut across, not traveling through Hundested proper. So this was a completing journey.

Finn arrived promptly at 10 am, and we had a cheery ride with lots of chat and family camaraderie. We talked about our visit to the school yesterday, and many of the adventures that we have had over the last two years. It was satisfying and fun. We noted the family homesites in the forest of the Jaegerspris Castle on the other side of the fjord, and other landmarks from our shared history.

We arrived in Hundested. The weather was cold in the harbor, and there were few visitors, but we went to explore. The area around the harbor has many shops and craft stores, but it also has a festival and an exhibit that runs from May to October in a designated area. The festival is a sandcastle exhibit, where artists build massive sandcastles to a theme from a mixture of sand and clay.

The process is lengthy. Apart from conceptualizing the art, the preparation for the sculpting has multiple steps. A wooden container is created to hold the sculpting material, a mixture of sand and clay, and heavily compacted. Since the sculptures are massive, the compaction happens to several layers, each layer raising the height but reducing the base by some measure. Each layer is compacted, and the raw material of the sculpture is raised.

Now, I am an elementary clay guy. Did an angel once. Did an elephant another time. But, I believe that a “gridding” technique was used, similar to the gridding that is done for a chalk art project, and i Maddonari event. On a three-dimensional piece of art, the gridding is more cubic, cubes of space and material to be shaped to the larger impact of the sculpture.

And, from what I could see, the sculpture evolves, from the rough to the defined, with a lot of work, ladders, some mud-plaster repairs, and spring sunshine. The resulting sculptures were massively impressive.

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We enjoyed the exhibits and admired the skills demonstrated. The artists were international in nature, and the products exotic.

We walked out to check out some of the shops. Many were closed, but one gallery had a fun weaver who was struggling on the floor changing some complicated setting to the warp and woof of the loom. Finn offered her a hand, but she laughed and said she was fine. We had a lovely conversation with laughter and joking. She said that it had been a good summer, and that much of her product inventory was down, and I imagined that she would have plenty to do over the winter.

We moved on, down to the edge of the harbor, and there was a large, glassmaking factory. We popped in, and it was warm. The glass work was very expensive, and the craftsmanship exquisite. The shop is owned by a husband/wife team (he, English, she, Danish), with two other individuals working the glass at two hot furnaces in a very organized workspace.

The English owner gave us an explanation of how he crafted a series of beautiful glass, Viking ships, with wooden bow, stern and keel crafted by a neighboring wood shop across the courtyard. The process could take up to 100 hours, and the art pieces were valued as high as 82,000 krona, or about $12,000 US. He shared that he would be making a trip to the US for some exhibits.

We found out that one of the artists working at the furnaces was an American, from Minnesota, and he had been an exchange student in Denmark. He was a glassblower, and having a great time working in the art gallery/factory environment.

We left the warmth of the gallery, into the cold, browsed the area some more and headed back to the front toward a couple of cafes, choosing one with a lunch special. It was excellent, pickled herring, roast beef, plaice (fish), soft cheese, crab salad, and fine bread and beer. We have not lacked for food.

And then we drove back to the Airbnb. We had planned to go out one last time with Finn and Marianne, for dinner, and so we took naps, hard naps. This would be our last opportunity to play with them, and we looked forward to a meal and some final sharing before we left.

The restaurant, Marina Furesøbad is on a lake, Lake Furesøbad, which is actually very large. There is a rowing/sailing club located there, and the fabulous restaurant upstairs. We checked out the lake and got details on Marianne’s winter “swims,” and enjoyed the view, even with a grey sky. For dinner, Finn and I had 190 gr burgers (delicious), and Marianne and Lynette had some wonderful fish, a “plaice,” a flounder, grilled in browned butter with crispy fried capers and asparagus potatoes and more….butter.

And, our conversation and laughter was butter, too. Easy comfortable and fun. And, at the core of the conversation, again, the whole conversation about “unfinished business.” We will be back.

We are so grateful for all the support and guidance and driving us around when we were in the area. The Denmark in Lynette’s blood is much richer and better understood than ever. Big hugs and love to all the family and friends here.

Back to School

One of the things that Lynette shared to Finn was that she would love to get into a Danish school to get a feel for Danish education. And of course, Finn made arrangements for a visit to his grand-daughter Frida’s school, “The Little School.” And that was the focus for the day.

No biking today.

******

Lodging

Our Airbnb is very comfortable and complete. We have a kitchenette, with a refrigerator, freezer, microwave, stovetop, and a couch and television (which we are unlikely to use), a comfy bed, and a bathroom/shower with a warmly heated floor. There is a cast iron stove, which we also will not use, and plenty of room for the inevitable pannier explosion of clothing and travel gear.

We had an early call with Finn, 7:30 am, so that we can get to the school to meet the hosting teacher. Now, Lynette’s plan was to be a “fly on the wall,” but it didn’t exactly work that way. Lynette was not worried about lessons being in Danish because there is a lot of information that can be gleaned from the atmosphere and mood of a classroom. She also did not need Finn and I hovering over her observations.

Cooperative Driving

Finn was very prompt, and we loaded up and took off in the morning traffic, snaking our way through Farum and eventually getting on a larger highway to Bagsværd. Traffic was jammed and we discussed the issues of automobiles in Denmark, which are taxed heavily and very expensive. As I looked around, I could see that most of the cars were small, compact, fuel efficient, well-suited for small roads and defensive driving. I could also see that almost every car had one passenger.

This is typical of our traffic as well, but interesting because Denmark truly does have mass transit opportunities, and of course the famous bike paths. Many of the roads, especially in towns like Farum, near us, have multiple “obstacles” to driving-speed bumps, road insets that narrow the road and require cooperation by drivers to negotiate, but always with a by-pass for the bicyclists.

Drivers in the US would be outraged at any impedance to fast, careless progress. The Danish blanket of driving obstacles, small roads, and forced cooperation results in overall much slower speeds. And, I think everyone benefits. It is a lot easier to cooperate at 25 mph than 80 mph. Speed kills.

The Little School

We arrived early at Frida’s school. Finn counseled Lynette on possible pronunciations of the cooperating teacher’s name, Frederikke. Now this is a private school, one of the options here, with government subsidy, and chosen because of Frida’s individual needs, and the talents of the school staff. I will get to what we learned about Danish education (distilling Lynette’s enthusiasm after the event), but first, the staff.

By the way, my own opinion is that the option of a “private school” here in Denmark is very different from the Betsy DeVos (US Education Secretary and Amway family, ) approach to charter schools. I think the US charter schools are prejudiced to class, wealth, and ethnicity. Here, the choice is prejudiced to what is best for the child, in a social democracy with a huge middle class, and security. Security and well-being. by the way, allows families to make choices that desperation does not. Freedom. In a social democracy.

We entered the school and Finn got us into an upstairs area where the teachers gathered in the morning. I was pleased. The teachers were professional, but with the papers and a distraction that meant they were all about the teaching-all good. Every teacher of quality is pulling it together in the morning. And, I know we were a distraction.

Of course, the school office manager was the most vocal, at first. But school office managers, in our opinion, are workhorses of a school, greeting, meeting, and often the general public face of the school. Important people. Statisticians. Managing the structure, not the learning. Important.

So, the teachers were touching base around a large table in an upstairs room. We were offered coffee and we could see that this was the gathering for “lift-off.” And, it was quite a cast of characters. The vocal office manager, the very professional teacher who explained the thematic scheme of the curricula, and the embrace of the arts, and the bearded, dedicated teacher who greeted us and was described by the manager as “living here.”

Now, I must say that I think we might have been intimidating. Denmark is truly bilingual. Danish and English. And we brought our gringo into a local school. Clearly intimidating. From California. Surfers?

But the conversation was good. At the end, we moved downstairs to meet Frederikke, a first year teacher who had substituted for five years, gone to the school herself, and had parents teaching in a public school nearby. She was awesome, talented, skilled, a natural. But more….

Finn and I

So, Finn and I, freed from oversight, immediately went to a bakery. This is very Danish. We bought croissants and Danish snegle. And then we went to Finn’s house to hug the dogs and have coffee and solve world problems and share more history. It was awesome.

Buster and Baldaur, the dogs, were happy to have morning company. Good dogs. Buster is a pup, but it was good to see that they get along, and nap happily after excitement. Buster has grown since we last saw him.

Finn and I went to his home and had coffee and the bakery delights, and we had a wonderful conversation, a wide ranging chat. We talked about family, heritage, music, and of course, how the heck we got HERE. (Finding family that we love and bridging shared and individual history.). We had a great time. I updated some of the genealogy tree, with Finn’s guidance, and we looked at some shared history.

Ultimately, a couple of snaps were shared. Nothing lethal, but as you all know, I am trying to embrace culture, and it was with food, and some of it was herbal. Nothing to worry about. Indeed, pushing culture, embracing, sharing, and small glasses, who could complain?

Glowing Lynette

And so, Finn and I said goodbye to the pups and headed back to the school for a noon pickup of Lynette. We arrived and went upstairs to the teacher’s area, where they were filtering in with personal box lunches and clear camaraderie. It was fun talking to those good people. I shared my love for the craft, and we joked.

Finally, a woman came up and shared with Finn that Lynette was waiting below, at the front of the school. Now, I can only describe Lynette as “glowing.” Clearly, it had been a good experience.

What Lynette said

If you need help, you move your clothespin to a queue for help…

So Lynette had been with Frederikke, a first year teacher, for the morning and she was in heaven. Frederikke had a fifth grade class, taught in English for the first session. In the second session, she was with a second grade classroom taught in Danish. The embrace of English and Danish is impressive, and probably intellectually significant.

Frederikke was skilled and delightful.

Now the school does not have outcome based tests, but it does have guidance for curricula. But, teachers have freedom and discretion to invent, be creative, and deliver to student clientele. And this school embraces this in “themes,” which embrace the arts, and the content, to deliver education.

And, indeed, “Fly On the Wall” Lynette became a focus of the lesson. This young, talented teacher had prepared for the visit. The students had prepared questions. No fly. No wall.

Lynette was introduced to the class, but the teacher first did a morning “ritual,” a good thing we think in the English language. The class made organized, efficient moves to materials, and then the conversation moved to the questions the students had prepared in their books.

“Why did you come to Denmark?”

“How many times did you come to Denmark”

“How are the schools in the US? Lots of bullying?”

“What do you think of Trump?”

At a transition, they went back to the regular activity, a “Me and My Family PowerPoint.” This was an emphasis on English, a good activity, family to visual/English, and technology.

And this is my take-away, they are using the themes, the arts, and the untested outcomes of a generalized curriculum to deal with PEOPLE, young people, emerging people, and the ultimate putting together of language, family, technology, and story. All good stuff.

Lynette said they laughed at her Danish. They were genial hosts. And Lynette was so appreciative.

Second Session, Danish

This was a second grade, in Danish. It was a vocabulary lesson, with a thematic thread. They were “very active,” later in the morning, but when the directed lesson was finished, the students had a break.

By the way, the students were unsupervised at this break. Lynette could speak to the horrors of playground supervision and “safety” in the US. Here, the kids took care of themselves.

And, maybe this relates to the cars, the restricted roads, and the blanket of slowness that is encouraged. If no one is there to solve ;problems, maybe individuals, of whatever age, need to figure it out. A natural outcome.

Overall, everything was child based and humanistic.

At one point, Lynette took photos of student worksheets, just so she could translate the worksheet and figure out what was going on.

Students had lunch, at their seats, with plastic boxes from home, with sandwiches and lots of fruit and healthy stuff. No chips. One protein bar.

And, in the end, we found a glowing Lynette after the experience.

Lunch

Finn and I retrieved Lynette. And we found a place for a nice lunch. And, Finn dropped us off at the Airbnb. Finn was very interested in our lodging, and that was good. I budget for these trips, and I can’t recall the cost of this place, but the mix of stays we do, hotel and Airbnb work out.

Tomorrow, we are going to Dyerhaven to listen to the loser, bull deer (it is rutting season) and learn a little about wildlife.

It’s all good.

Danish Wind

So, the great American novel, Moby Dick, has a bit of a joke in the very beginning. Ishmael describes why he goes to sea.

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”

He goes on to explain why he thinks it better to be a seaman, than a commodore.

“Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor, because of the wholesome exercise and pure air of the fore-castle deck. For as in this world, head winds are far more prevalent than winds from astern (that is, if you never violate the Pythagorean maxim), so for the most part the Commodore on the quarter-deck gets his atmosphere at second hand from the sailors on the forecastle.”

Now, this is a wind joke. A fart joke. Ishmael likes being a sailor, on the fore-castle of the ship. The winds are fresh. And, he points out that the Commodore, gets all the bad wind from the front of the ship. A fart joke. Bad wind from the sailors at the front. BTW, the Pythagorean maxim is don’t eat beans because they cause flatulence.

And, then there is the Danish wind, a devilish wind indeed. A wind with a sense of humor. The Danish wind would understand the Moby Dick passage immediately. She appreciates a good joke. But, she doesn’t necessary damage with her tricks, she just taunts. For a visual, think of the recent commercial where a boy is holding a finger near a sibling/friend, saying, “I’m not touching you!” And teasing mercilessly. Of course that harassment is sophisticated, more like the tease that Mother Danish wind plays upon the land.

We spent some time on this trip on Møns, an island, and we struggled with the wind to get there. Once there, the winds turned westerly (from the west), and we wondered if we were pinned. We wondered if we could ever, ever ride out to the west, with the wind in the west. On our bus trip to the cliffs, Møns Klint, we found sanctuary at the bottom of 500 stairs, behind an entire island and massive cliffs. Moments without wind.

*****

We began the morning in our cozy cabin in Jaegerspris. The cabin/cottage, which we love and stayed in last year, is rustic. The hot water tank is barely adequate. There are few amenities, but, we love it. The garden is green, and the little cabin oozes cozy. The weather rises, the wind blows, but we are cozy. One has to bike to the market, but it is so quiet that one’s ears hum. I slept 9 and a half hours the first night.

And, so, we packed up leisurely because we only had about 20 miles for our journey, including the trip to the market, the Netto, for dinner goods. I think we left the lodging improved. Lynette did her usual awesome job of sweeping and cleaning and detail work.

Packing, by the way, is an experience. Stuff has to be pulled out, with two panniers and a duffle. So, there is an unpacking “bloom,” and a mess to be dealt with to get everything back into the bags. And, some of the things are silly. We ran out of toilet paper in the first lodging, bought some at the market, and I have been carrying one roll, Lynette four, for the whole trip. Silly.

But, gear was packed. And, we figure out ways to do this along the way, more efficiently, more effectively. Indeed, I have started to think about my list of “what was used” and what wasn’t. I need to take less, less, less.

So, sadly, we left. I felt sorry that we did not connect with our friends Annemette and Analise, but we had some quality time with Anne-Marie and Ole, and that was very good. We had a great day on bikes in the sun with exercise, food, and conversation, and we are hoping that they will come to California (skipping LA) and enjoy their time with us.

And, so, we left. An overcast day. And, of course, the wind was from the east. What does this mean? It means that you are riding east, toward Russia, and the damn (oops) Danish Mother wind is blowing into your face. Yep. Worry about going to the west in a westerly, get an easterly going to the east. This is some smart Mother.

“I’m not touching you!”

Yes, but you are crushing me because I counted on west wind. And, what we were left with was rolling landscape (few major ups, but constant ups). It was not easy riding.

We chose to skip the hill down to Jaegerspris, and ride directly across the peninsula to the old bridge to Frederikssund. We left late, and decided to stop at a familiar bakery for a cappuccino and snegle. It was good. A good break, ready to move.

Now the path was problem solving. Sometimes the routing dumps us into uncomfortable roads, with minimal shoulder. And sometimes, we just go different ways if we can find an alternative path. All of the mapping tools do not correct you. If you go the wrong way, even by a short distance, they re-route you from there. Crazy.

And, then there was Mother Wind. An easterly wind. How could it be? Pinned a short time ago behind cliffs on an island, and now, wind in my face, flags pointing to the back of my bicycle. Like, “What?”

The ride was not long, but it was challenging. We followed the maps for a bit, but took some jogs because the traffic was intense, and the shoulder not good. Eventually, we got on a route for back routes, and it was good, but hilly. It was a snake path. At one point, a turn went unexpectedly to dirt paths, which are fine, but mud and dirt and weighted bicycles make it challenging.

And, with the Mother Wind, we resigned ourselves to watching kilometers. The path was scenic, and rural, and manageable, and eventually we achieved our Airbnb, a great, private space in rural Farum. Our host was wonderful. We are settling in, and I will post this tomorrow.

Wait, That’s MY Great Grandmother!

…and lunch, too.

Today, Anne-Marie arranged for us to visit a home where Lynette’s great great grandmother lived in 1834. Ironically, it is a museum now, but not for particularly happy reasons.

But, geography and family relations must be restated for this to make sense. And I hope this is somewhat interesting, or at least organized so that you can understand the general relationships. And, maybe this is just for me, anyway.

Anne-Marie and Finn are brother and sister. Our cousins’ great grandfather, Lars, was a brother to Lynette’s great grandmother, Bodil.

Gen3 *Bodil Christensen/Lars Christensen (Brother and Sister)

The parents of Bodil and Lars were Christian Madsen, a forester for King Frederick VII at Jaegerspris Castle (Hunter’s Pride), and Dorthea/Dorthe Larsen. SO:

Gen2 *Great Great Grandparents————Christen Madsen/Dorthe Larsen
Gen3 *Great Grandparents———————Bodil Christensen/Lars Christensen

Now today’s activity was about Dorthe. Dorthe’s parents were Lars Knudsen and Bodil Persen. So now we have:

Gen1 *Great Great Great Grandparent—Lars Knudsen/Bodil Persen
Gen2 *Great Great Grandparent————Christen Madsen/Dorothe Larsen
Gen3 *Great Grandparents———————Bodil Christensen/Lars Christensen

Gen6 *Our generation—————————–Lynette, Anne-Marie, and Finn

So far, so good. Now the geography. As you know, Copenhagen is on an island, Zealand. Northwest of Copenhagen are two significant fjords, Roskilde Fjord and Isefjord, which bracket a peninsula. The Kattegat Strait, which you probably know from Vikings on television, is well north of both fjords and the peninsula they grip.

The blue dot is our Airbnb. North of us is the castle at Jaegerspris (Neder Dråby). This is where Christen Madsen and Dorothe Larsen raised their family. Isefjord is west. Roskilde Fjord is east. Southwest of our blue dot (blue dot is home, wherever you go), is an island, Orø. This was the birthplace of Dorthe Larsen.

So, I know that her father and mother married in 1813, with them being in their 20s. I know that Lars Knudsen (father) died in June of 1829. I know that in the 1834 Census (no tallies between 1801 and 1834), Dorothe is 14. Her mother is 50. They are in a poor house next to the church. A younger brother, Peter, is there too. Anne-Marie arranged a visit. We went to visit the house. The house is now a museum for Orø, in the town of Bybjerg.

So, simply, what we know is that after the father, Lars Knudsen, died, Dorothe was living with her mother and brother in the “poor house” in Bybjerg in 1834. We know that Dorothe made the journey from the island of Orø to the larger island of Zealand, probably to work at the castle, and somehow, married a forester, Christen Madsen, in Jaegerspris.

I know a little about her brother, some about other siblings, but the point of this trip was to see where she lived in 1834 when she was 14 years old.

The house has been converted to a museum, with lots of information and artifacts, and a beautiful man, Karsten(? Anne Marie can help) opened the museum on a Monday for us to look. The “poor house” is adjacent to the church. Information passed, but Karsten was shy with the English, and I believe we missed some things.

******

My impressions: Karsten said that up to fourteen people would live in a place like this. This stuns me. It is so small. The kitchen area, the stove, the implements around for waffle making, changing the size of the stove aperture above the fire with iron rings was something I had not seen.

Here is a video:

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Now, since this is a museum, not everything here would be 1834 technology, nor decade relevant. But, the space was real. One bed. Fourteen people (I should count on that census sheet). Folks got into a bed, but slept upright. This is not Sleepytime motel, for sure.

Here is my understanding, and I hope Anne-Marie and Ole will correct me. The poor house paid for farmers to take people for work and lodging. A farmer could make money by taking a person, but they were supposed to supply food and lodging. So, given this, and Dorothe at age 14, we assume that she made some kind of move for employment and livelihood, and eventually married Lynette’s Great Great Grandfather Christen Madsen, the ancestral heritage she shares with Anne-Marie and Finn.

The artifacts in the museum were amazing. Ole was particularly fascinated with a waffle maker. Apparently, folks in the poorhouse practiced making lace, and there were artifacts for that. Tools and how tools change could be the basis for a lifelong educational course, because the tasks remain, but the tools evolve.

But, what we know is that Dorothe left Orø, married in Jaegerspris, and bore both Bodil and Lars, our shared brother and sister.

So much information.

We left the museum and wandered to the Kirke (church). It did not seem to have the interior decorations that we found in Dråby, the church near Jaegerspris Castle, decorations by a common artist, but the church was impressive. The main church, without the tower, was build around 1100, but additions were made, including the crenelated tower typical of Danish post-Reformation churches around 1600. Anne-Marie noted that the men entered the church on one side, depositing weapons and other sinful items, and the women entered on the other side of the church. We noted that the “other side” of the church, the women’s entrance, is bricked and closed.

It is possible that Dorothe was christened in this font

Ole drove us around the island, and it is not as small as Christansø on Bornholm, but it is not very far across, and there are not many hills. Apparently there were a lot of dolmens on the island in the beginning, but now only three remain. We understood that the original palate of dolmens lasted for a long time because they we thought to harbor “malevolent” spirits. This is apparently not a bad thing. Stuff remained for a while. But folks got over their superstitions, and only three remain.

We returned to the Kirke, and the Kro (restaurant), but we took a walk up the hill to a high point. Now, the Danish Queen has been here, so the spot is of significance. (We like the Queen.). The wind was cold, a dynamic difference from yesterday, but this is Denmark. The view was awesome. And, the Queen had been here.

We returned for a warm lunch. And it was a fabulous lunch. Just the best. A meal to last all day. We were surprised by the crowd. We were on an island (ferry to the island), but the restaurant was packed. A group of birthday celebrants were there. A group of elders were there. It was lively and busy. And the food was spectacular.

And, we were done. Ole drove us back to the cottage. Anne-Marie went to watch grand-children.

Another fine day. We napped. We are regrouping for a move tomorrow to Farum, closer to Copenhagen. We are good, supported by family, finding adventure, exercising, and eating great food. It’s all good.

*****

Interesting Addendum:

1. Okay, so this is funny. Cousin Anne-Marie and Ole have done so much to help us out. Indeed, she figured out how to get us to see the “poor house,” from 1834. But, at a point, she had an epiphany, “This is MY great great grandmother too!” And it is. And it brings up the gringo point. We are traveling over here and invading space and calm, and wanting to know about our ancestors, but here on the mother ship, things are pretty serene. Descendants have a good life overall. The idea that Anne-Marie would realize connections is not silly. Family support, from what I see, is integral to these good people. Good life. Good people. Supportive families.

No complaints.

2. On the hill above the Kro, probably the highest point of land on the island, a converted water tank now houses a room of stories about the island. One story, for example, is about the pirate Børre, who used Orø as a base for his mischief, and eventually was hung and beheaded, both events apparently mutually lethal. Another story involved a hunchback woman considered to be a witch. The story chronicled the town’s suspicions about her, and death in 1834. Dorthe would certainly have been aware of her. Ole remarked that it would be nice of the stories were available away from the exhibit.

3. In one of the photos above a thick crucifix can be found in a case in the museum. Another story told about how the original, gold crucifix was discovered by a local girl in the town. She gave it to the church and was rewarded with enough money that she was no longer a young woman of limited means and reputation, and she was able to marry a sweetheart from a farm with higher standing.

4. Every time we take one of these trips, I end up with a water bottle, a friend. I think I have photos of a green bottle that took me on the bicycle ride from Copenhagen to Prague. Temporary friends. Here is my friend on this trip. She is particularly suited for the water cages, with a smooth, round body, and she has supported me the whole way. I honor her.

A Grand Day

Okay, this has happened before. Sometimes, the day can be so rich and satisfying, that there isn’t time to do a decent job on the narrative. This may be one of those days. And, sure, everything today was enhanced by glorious weather-no sun, no wind, just perfect, but at the core was family company, new experiences, sufficient exercise, good food, and honest conversation and sharing.

So, in case I can’t finish the narrative, here is a video of the day generated by the Photo app (no skill on my part). Note Danish and coffee on the Roskilde Fjord, cycling gravel paths on route 40 (which goes around the fjord), fabulous lunch in a Kro, hiking on a “hammer” peninsula with a view of Roskilde and the Roskilde Cathedral. Note what you won’t note: my terrible Danish pronunciation, and the forgiveness I receive for same here.

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So, the plan was to hang out with cousin Anne-Marie and her husband, Ole, in Østby, near where they found all the Viking ships in Skuldelev.

And, we are dependent upon help. Ole and Anne-Marie are working on it. They have found us boxes for the bicycles for the return trip, and they offered us and adventure today, near their home. Anne-Marie and Lynette share great grandparents that were brother and sister. Good stuff.

Ole and Ann-Marie arrived at 9:30 and we loaded our bicycles to drive to their home, in Østby, a glorious home with a wonderful view to the west of fields and serenity and calm. And, we did that.

Anne-Marie and Ole have a fine history, with education, public service, and an investment in an African educational school. More here.

So, we did this really cool thing. We off-loaded the bicycles, Ole and Anne-Marie brought coffee, snegle, and seat pads, and we rode cycles down to a coveted spot on Roskilde.

We stopped, by the way to admire https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henrik_Pontoppidan Henrik Pontoppidan, who lived here.

We had such a good time, in the sun and the shine.

So, in photographic chronology, here is our wonderful day.

First a stop in the middle of a field, a pastoral bench, and a view of the lake and Roskilde Fjord.

Ole and Anne-Marie carted our bicycles to their home, with it’s wonderful view to the west, and we re-organized and loaded up to cycle down to their favorite little harbor/hangout on the fjord.

The view at the little spot on the fjord was just super. A light haze lifted and everything warmed up. It was a rare day with blue skies and no wind. We discussed the nature of an “Indian Summer Day,” the geography and what it means to grow up.

And, with all the conversation and laughter, we found time to eat Danishly. Coffee and snegle (two kinds).

We walked a bit around the point, which Anne-Marie referred to as a “hammer,” for its shape, and then got on the cycles and rode a bit on cycle route 40, looping to another small boat landing that was used by two fisherman for repairing their nets. It was very scenic.

We continued on the path, which wound through a wonderful forest (which I love so much), regained paved road, and then we cycled to a wonderful Kro (restaurant) for a light lunch. Lynette had herring. I had warm filet of fish and shrimp. Oh, and a good beer.

We cycled to a very old manor house in the area (16th century, I believe). It was near Selsø Kirke (church), predated plumbing, and had a masterful view of the fjord.

We rode down to the fjord, secured our unlocked bicycles behind a bush, and hiked over and out to another “hammer” point jousting into the fjord. It was very pastoral, with a bit of “wildlife,” two children, obviously familiar with the place, who would catch up with us from time to time, leaving parents behind, and then slide down the serious slope beside the narrow path to lower elevations, only to have to climb back up.

We followed a path down to the flats and the point, noting the Roskilde Cathedral, the debris noting how high the water can rise under wind and tide conditions, the boats in the fjord, and the swans, seasonally “grounded” to the lake because they molt their large feathers.

We returned to our bicycles and rode back to the house for a light dinner, and to check on whether the bicycle boxes that Ole obtained for me will work for our return trip in a week. We stopped to check out a dolmen site (megalithic burial site). Ole explained that they found a gold encrusted sword near a dolmen close to his home.

We returned to the house. I believe the cycle boxes will work fine, and I am so grateful to Ole for securing them for us.

Anne-Marie prepared a lovely, traditional meal for us. It was delicious. I will leave the pronunciation of the dishes to the photos, and the sunset to Mother Nature.

Oh yes. And, I either saved a dragonfly from a watery grave, or I interrupted two dragonflies from some copulatory fun. My friend Hugh would know.

(Hey, it’s picture book Monday.)

Tom Foolery

Clouds to sun. It can happen.

Awareness to ignorance. Easy.

Boring explanation here but hey, maybe this will be useful to others.: So, I had some panic in the morning, some instability, changes. I had purchased three SIM cards from Lycamobile for our three available devices: my unlocked iPhone, Lynette’s previous iPhone, my iPad. We also carried Lynette’s new, under contract iPhone, but only used it with WiFi. But I spent the day messing with things, so here it goes.

The SIMS we purchased with Lycamobile were just fine. We had ten hours of phone time, a phone number, and 60 GB of data. Goodstuff. And we enjoyed them, relied upon them, for the whole trip, but they only had a 30 day life. The world changes. The banker wants his due. And, today that came to closure.

So, this morning, confident in the four star hotel connectivity, I tried to “top up,” whatever that means, and continue the fun, the planning, the trip. In short form, I was able, eventually, to re-up my phone-essential. $14.50. However, then things degraded. All my credit cards got suspended for suspected fraud (from Lycamobile). Dead ended. Lynette, without tunes to distract here. Ipad without room to post. Crisis.

So, we did what people in crisis do. We got on our bicycles and moved on. I think we are approaching 400 miles overall. Good.

A Different Route

Now, I put the Windy mapping tool on, which has better identifications of bicycle routes than Google does. And we followed that. The irony is that Windy doesn’t know where you are on these dirt roads, these listed routes on the app. Crazy. So, we just followed the bike path signs, and we saw a lot of dirt roads, rural routes, fun riding.

And, we didn’t have any trucks sidewashing us, and certainly no roadside stops. The weather was overcast, but fine. This was a way different route from any before. And we have been on this general route at least three times.

A point to note here is that not all of our riding is on pavement. The bikes do fine on dirt. And, I always worry about flat tires, but, the bikes do fine on dirt. And dirt means a pastoral path, a scenic path, where you want to be. Whenever I am really “lost” it is on a dirt path. And it is glorious. Cause this is Europe. The bears here are all stuffed and located in bars. Bare dirt, remote roads, it’s all fine.

Along the route, we passed the new bridge across Roskilde Fjord. It looked beautiful. We will return for the opening ceremony next Saturday, for now we rode around the yet unused round about. We saw some pedestrians, and I joked, “Fabulous looking bridge! Don’t tell Mr. Trump about it!”

The 7 and 11

And that said, we snaked our way into Fredrikssund, where we have stayed twice before. But my connectivity was on my mind. My phone was “topped,” whatever that meant. So, I had “eyes.”

Now this is all problem solving discourse, feel free to skip.

We parked outside the shopping center. Lynette went in to the toilette and to look for phone shops. There were two. We yo-yo’d, and one shop seemed wrong, the other was a “kiosk,” a name for 7-11 and rip offs of 7-11. But they do “top offs,” whatever that is.

I called Lycamobile for support. She was useless. Card was blocked. It was on their end. No way to fix it. Upgrade support? I chose no.

I went into the mall, found the kiosk, and had a difficult discussion with the guy. He couldn’t explain the “top off,” but, for $14.50, he sold me an ipad bundle, similar to Lycamobile, for the ipad. He was busy, so I left with a. SIM card for Lebara, not Lycamobile. You have to understand the the prices are cheap, and it is almost as inexpensive to buy a new SIM as “top off.”

Look, I understand this is not interesting. But it is pretty much how I spent my worries on this day. No maps, flying blind. I can do these seat of the pants trips, but I need the Internet.

Resolution. So, my phone was good. The guy in the mall sold me a Lebara SIM for $14.50. Customer service recommended me to a 7-11 for Lynette’s phone. I found one.

We walked to the 7-11, staffed here by youth (comparison to US). My new friend at the 7-11, listened to my issues and suggested a solution by “top off” with codes purchased at the 7-11. Dense to me, but the kid was great.

He said I could pay for a code to “…top off. It is final.” He was worried about it (fifteen bucks if it failed.) “I have never done it,” he said.

I said , “Kid, you got my back. This is adventure, right, you and me? You learn, I learn, and I find my way out of the wilderness!” He was great. We surged ahead. And Lynette’s phone was “topped off.” I told the lad that I would never speak badly about 7-11 again. He laughed.

Phone data has been very reasonable here, and I have even gotten some use out of the telephone talk time.

Jaegerspris Revisited

We rode out to the old bridge across the fjord and over, climbing the hillock and dropping into Jaegerspris. Our idea was to split a frikadeller sandwich at the local bakery. To our surprise, we saw that Hansen’s Ice Cream Store was still open, and we thought to split one of those, two, with cream and jam. The sandwich and ice cream were indeed delicious.

Then we rode up the hill, past the Jaegerspris windmill and down the back road to the Airbnb, the same one we had stayed in before. It was familiar and friendly, to to our immense delight the sun came out and the backyard glowed for a few photos. It really is a comfy little cabin.

I put the Lebara SIM in my iPad, and discovered that I could tether Lynette’s new iPhone to it (a bonus) and that it was getting better reception here than Lycamobile. All good things.

We made a cycle run to the local market which wasn’t too close to us, but we both were mindful of how easy it could be in Santa Barbara to run to the market on a bicycle, instead of a car-healthier and better for the environment.

We had an easy evening in the cottage, played a little music, wrote in the blog. It’s very peaceful.

Tomorrow we are looking forward to a bicycle ride with Ole and cousin Anne-Marie. Ole managed to track down some bicycle boxes for us, and we are hoping they will be big enough for our bicycles.

It is unfortunate, but we have to think about some of the final logistics for our return. However, everything has been booked, except for one night in LA when we return. I decided against driving at night, after the flight. Last time I was dangerously tired. So, we will spend the night and return in the morning.