Here we are now, day 20 of my 21-day trip to Europe, and I find it very sad. I have seen, enjoyed, experienced so much, and believe me when I say I feel truly blessed to have the opportunity to explore so much of the world on my own terms. On this, my final full day in Amsterdam, Nick knocked at my door around 9:00 this morning to let me know that he was going to catch his train back to Brussels. He told me that as he got his bagel and coffee across the street, he had a sudden epiphany about my all-time favourite film, "The Wizard of Oz", and why it appeals to me so much. He said that in the film, the characters all long for something they already have but they don't know they have it: the Cowardly Lion for courage, the Tin Woodman for a heart, the Scarecrow for a brain. He says that there is an interesting parallel with my own life, where I am longing for courage and strength, but he says it is obvious to him and to all of my friends that I have ample supplies of this, and simply do not realize it. And that this realization should help me to deal with the anxiety I so often feel. After this short exchange, he leaned in to hug me, and told me because it was grey and rainy outside, I should roll over and catch some more sleep, which is exactly what I did.
When I finally got up, shaved, showered, got dressed, checked my e-mails, etc., I headed out with a definite purpose today: I wanted to visit the Van Gogh museum, just south of my lodgings. I got there around 1:00 p.m., and discovered that tickets were all sold out until 3:00 p.m., so I got myself a ticket for that time. I figured that in the meantime, I could maybe buy my postcards and fill them in, and then catch a bite to eat once it had been two hours since I had taken my medication. So I set out towards the city centre to find some postcards. Unfortunately, I was heading west, and lost a lot of time coming back to where I wanted to be. So much so, that by the time I got back, I only had a little more than an hour before the scheduled visit to the museum. So, I stopped at a corner store and got some postcards and some stamps, then I made my way to Wok to Walk for another helping of the noodles I had yesterday, but this time with pineapple chunks. Delicious, and filling.
Even though I had a ticket for three o'clock, I had to wait in a long line-up of people who had 3:00 p.m. tickets, and then an equally long line-up to check in my umbrella, which I could not take in with me. I finally was looking at the first of Van Gogh's artwork about 30 minutes later than I expected, but it was all good. It was exciting to see so many of the artist's masterpieces, and it was thrilling to be able to take pictures of them. The highlights were the numerous self-portraits of Van Gogh, his sunflowers, and (my favourite) his bedroom. I tried taking advantage of the free wi-fi at the museum to call my parents and to call Martin, but no one could come to the phone just then.
I then bought a ticket for the tram (my 72-hour pass having since run out), and made my way to the north of the city to update my blog, which had fallen considerably behind. I have been slogging away now for the best part of 90 minutes, and am proud to report that as of now (7:30 p.m.), I am up to date. Now to go out for a good dinner.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
An Inward Journey
I woke briefly from my slumbers around 4:00 a.m., when Nick came in, but simply rolled over and fell asleep again. When daylight came, I kept on sleeping, and by the time I rose at 11:00 (again!) Nick was already up and ready. So I showered and got ready myself, and we were able to leave the apartment around noon to continue our explorations.
I still had to wait a while before having a bite to eat, so we wandered the streets in Nick's typical flaneur way, which is a welcome change from the frantic pace I had set for myself these past two weeks. It was pretty much more of the same, with frequent picture opportunities around the city, particularly the amazing views of the canals and the irregularly-shaped houses. We made frequent stops for pastries and patat, like we did yesterday. Towards the middle of the afternoon, Nick led the way to the ferry to the north side of Amsterdam, and we disembarked near the museum of film, the Eye. We sat on a terrasse and ordered a late lunch: the veloute of lobster, and in my case, an egg and chive sandwich. As we ate, we kept up the very interesting discussion we started yesterday, which was a thorough examination of where I am in life right now. The focus was primarily on the anxiety I have been experiencing for a few years now, and how I can leave most of it behind to achieve a better level of functioning. Nick is the most empathetic person I know, and using his personal Socratic method, he leads me to valuable insights into my inner journey. As he so succinctly puts it, it is only when I travel that I can have the necessary distance to look at myself objectively and do some work on my thought patterns. I very much value his friendship, and even if at times his comments can seem cruel, I know he is just going for the shock effect, and there is always an important lesson to get from it. As we sat on the terrasse, he shot a series of pictures of me, using my camera, and I have to say, I really like the effect, and I can truly see how intensely pensive I can become.
There really isn't all that much to record, given the exceedingly personal nature of my inward journey today. In terms of the outer journey, the exploration of the city, it was, generally-speaking, more of the same. But it offered me the opportunity to take some great shots of the city (again), on this beautiful, partly sunny day. (We have been really lucky two days in a row, because Amsterdam is usually always overcast or rainy.) At one point, we entered a great CD store, with incredibly low prices, even by Canadian standards, and I was able to buy a CD/DVD combination I had been seeking for months now, to no avail: the Deluxe edition of the classic 1975 ABBA album, simply titled "ABBA". I was pleased to be able to finally get it for myself.
In the evening, we discovered a great place called Wok to Walk, and I got myself egg noodles with pork, chicken and shrimp, in sweet and sour sauce. It was really tasty and satisfying. It was the first of two for Nick, who was to return later that evening to get another order (it was just that good!) We made our way to the apartment, where Nick got his iPad out, and we played "Ticket to Ride" against one another, then played other games like Blokus and Yatzee! He asked if I could find any CDs to play on the apartment's DVD player, and the only CDs I could find were the ones I have bought during my travels. So, Nick had to endure Agnetha's album, followed by one disc from the "Eurovision" double disc set. Although we have similar tastes, our musical tastes are very different. But he didn't complain, and we were able to enjoy a quiet evening at the apartment. Nick was starting to fall asleep between turns of "Ticket to Ride", so we stopped playing around midnight and called it a night.
I still had to wait a while before having a bite to eat, so we wandered the streets in Nick's typical flaneur way, which is a welcome change from the frantic pace I had set for myself these past two weeks. It was pretty much more of the same, with frequent picture opportunities around the city, particularly the amazing views of the canals and the irregularly-shaped houses. We made frequent stops for pastries and patat, like we did yesterday. Towards the middle of the afternoon, Nick led the way to the ferry to the north side of Amsterdam, and we disembarked near the museum of film, the Eye. We sat on a terrasse and ordered a late lunch: the veloute of lobster, and in my case, an egg and chive sandwich. As we ate, we kept up the very interesting discussion we started yesterday, which was a thorough examination of where I am in life right now. The focus was primarily on the anxiety I have been experiencing for a few years now, and how I can leave most of it behind to achieve a better level of functioning. Nick is the most empathetic person I know, and using his personal Socratic method, he leads me to valuable insights into my inner journey. As he so succinctly puts it, it is only when I travel that I can have the necessary distance to look at myself objectively and do some work on my thought patterns. I very much value his friendship, and even if at times his comments can seem cruel, I know he is just going for the shock effect, and there is always an important lesson to get from it. As we sat on the terrasse, he shot a series of pictures of me, using my camera, and I have to say, I really like the effect, and I can truly see how intensely pensive I can become.
There really isn't all that much to record, given the exceedingly personal nature of my inward journey today. In terms of the outer journey, the exploration of the city, it was, generally-speaking, more of the same. But it offered me the opportunity to take some great shots of the city (again), on this beautiful, partly sunny day. (We have been really lucky two days in a row, because Amsterdam is usually always overcast or rainy.) At one point, we entered a great CD store, with incredibly low prices, even by Canadian standards, and I was able to buy a CD/DVD combination I had been seeking for months now, to no avail: the Deluxe edition of the classic 1975 ABBA album, simply titled "ABBA". I was pleased to be able to finally get it for myself.
In the evening, we discovered a great place called Wok to Walk, and I got myself egg noodles with pork, chicken and shrimp, in sweet and sour sauce. It was really tasty and satisfying. It was the first of two for Nick, who was to return later that evening to get another order (it was just that good!) We made our way to the apartment, where Nick got his iPad out, and we played "Ticket to Ride" against one another, then played other games like Blokus and Yatzee! He asked if I could find any CDs to play on the apartment's DVD player, and the only CDs I could find were the ones I have bought during my travels. So, Nick had to endure Agnetha's album, followed by one disc from the "Eurovision" double disc set. Although we have similar tastes, our musical tastes are very different. But he didn't complain, and we were able to enjoy a quiet evening at the apartment. Nick was starting to fall asleep between turns of "Ticket to Ride", so we stopped playing around midnight and called it a night.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
A Relaxing Day
I have fallen behind in my blogging and must do my best to reconstruct the past two days. But first, I will resume from where I left off in my last post. As I had intended, I left the apartment and made my way to the Amsterdam ice bar. I was a little disappointed that the one in Copenhagen had closed, so when I discovered there was one here, I thought it might be fun to visit. I headed outside, where the skies were overcast, but the weather seemed pleasant enough, without an umbrella. As luck would have it, but the time I got off the tram, way out from my lodgings, the downpour began. It was a pretty steady rain that just wouldn't let up. So I wandered the streets of Amsterdam, completely lost in the maze of streets, seeking the elusive ice bar. I was getting really drenched. By the time I found it, I looked like I had emerged from one of the canals. I got inside, headed to the washroom to at least dry my face and head, and exchanged my very damp coupon for a discounted entry to the bar.
I have to say that I was a tad bit disappointed, probably because I had already experienced the novelty in Stockholm three years ago. All the same, the space didn't seem as nice as the one in Stockholm, but the temperature was considerably colder, at -10C. We were furnished with heavy parkas and ill-fitting leather mittens, and we were offered two drinks (instead of the one drink in Stockholm). Considering that I was still fretting about my antibiotics, I got the non-alcoholic tropical fruit juice for the first drink. We were then shown a pretty lame animated film in what was touted as being in 4D. It involved a squirrel falling down tunnels, and ran for more than 9 minutes. I quickly lost interest. After the film, we were offered our second drink, and I chose a sour puss shooter. Now speaking of shooters, it is a pretty common occurence in Amsterdam to see offers of 10 shooters for 10 euros in the bars. I think this is incredibly cheap!
I left the ice bar to reemerge into the driving rain, and slowly inched my way to the north of the city. I cannot believe that I have been here such a long time and had not yet seen the famed red-light district, with its well-known shop windows from which the prostitutes display their wares. But before I arrived there, I stopped for my next order of patat, and this time, it was a much more Dutch treat. The French fries came with four sauces: ketchup, curry sauce, satay sauce (a peanut butter base) and (my favourite) joopie sauce (a sort of sweet, tangy, yellow-coloured sauce). This time, I really enjoyed the experience, and washed it all down with a Coca Cola.
By 10:00 p.m., the display windows were starting to be lit up, and the shapely female prostitutes began to ply their trade. It was a very interesting sight, particularly studying the groups of drunken young men, especially groups of British guys in bachelor parties, as they approach the windows and asked how much it would cost for their turn. I have to say that the whole scene was somehow less seedy than I expected. I had somehow thought that here in Amsterdam, where prostitution is regulated, the women would be completely naked, but it was not the case. After having had my fill of this spectacle, I stopped off at a bar to get a (ho-hum) bottle of water. I did a bit of bar hopping, but there was nothing to write home about, so I left the red-light district and eventually made my way back home. I must have gone to bed around 2:00 a.m. (I am so not used to having Coca Cola, or any amount of caffeine, for that matter.
The next morning came around much too quickly, so that I opened my eyes and realized it was already past 11:00. I had not yet had such a late start to the day, because I had been pretty disciplined for much of my trip, in order to take advantage of being abroad to do the whole tourist thing. But my rising late in the day pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day to follow, as shall be seen shortly. I had planned to go to both the Sex museum and the Van Gogh museum this morning, before the arrival of my good friend Nick, who was scheduled to arrive in Amsterdam from Brussels at 2:00 p.m. But because I got up so late, I had to totally revise my plan. So I slowly got ready (after having played a few games of the addictive "Ticket to Ride" on my iPhone), and headed out into the city around 12:30 p.m. I walked around for a bit, taking in the sights, sounds and smells, before arriving at the monument in The Dam, where I spotted Nick. It was very good to see him. I met Nick at work back in 2006, and three years later, he accepted a job in Belgium, so I don't get to see him that often nowadays. I last saw him last summer when he, his wife and their toddler son visited Canada in August.
Nick asked me if I had eaten yet, and I had to explain that I was still waiting for 2:30 to come around, because it had still not been two hours since my antibiotics. So, we wandered around a bit and Nick, who knows the city like the back of his hand, since he comes up here fairly regularly, led the way to a great little Indonesian restaurant. Now since the Netherlands (or Holland) had colonized both Suriname and Indonesia, its cuisine was heavily influenced by the contributions of these former Dutch colonies, and I really wanted to try these foods, but had still not had a chance to sample them.
The restaurant was a great little place, and Nick and I got a very light bite to eat, a simple fried noodle dish, which I have to say was perfect. Nick was thinking we would keep it light, maybe nibble on munchies along the way, and save our appetites for a larger meal at another Indonesian restaurant he wanted to make a reservation at. Since the restaurant only opens at 9:00 p.m., I kew that I would miss the Eurovision finale tonight. But that was OK. So during the rest of the afternoon, Nick introduced me to his "flaneur" approach to travel. It was nice, not having to schedule anything or plan ahead of time, but just go with the flow. We stopped along the way to eat a pastry here (usually of the strawberry variety), or a patat there. As we walked along the canals, or followed the meandering streets, Nick was able to show me areas of the city I had not yet explored. And what was really nice is that he snatched my camera from me and took some pictures of me, which are sadly missing from my trip. He was a regular shutterbug, and I have to say he has a very good eye, because there are a number of shots of myself that I really like. We entered many book stores, DVD shops and CD boutiques. Because we have so many common interests, it was a pleasure travelling with him. At one point, he pointed out to me that this trip would end up being the most consecutive time we have ever hung out together. I hadn't thought of it that way, but realized it was true.
After having made a brief stop back at the apartment for Nick to drop off his travel bag and few purchases, we were ready to seek out the Indonesian restaurant where he had made a reservation for us. Oh my God, was the meal gargantuan and sublime! I don't think I have seen so much food since my experience with the smorgasbord onboard the Silja Serenade! Nick ordered the King's Feast for us, which started off with two spring rolls each. After this appetizer, the plates kept coming and coming, and being piled onto a special board that was set in the middle of our table: spicy braised beef in a hot pepper sauce, fried fish in a sweet sauce, vegetables and tofu, pickled cucumbers, breaded chicken in a sweet and sour sauce, steamed rice, Indonesian fried rice, breaded shrimp on a skewer, coconut shavings with almonds for the rice, crispy Indonesian rice chips... These are just off the top of my head. We absolutely gorged ourselves on the heaping mounds of food, and suddenly, like a light switch being turned on, we were full. I have never experienced fullness so suddenly, and I was absolutely stuffed. Unfortunately, there was still some food left on several of these plates. Suffice it to say that this was an incredibly delicious experience.
Too full to have any dessert, Nick and I left the restaurant and gradually headed on foot back to the apartment, where I crashed. My meal had been so heavy I didn't feel like doing much, but Nick declared around midnight that he had the urge to walk off his meal. By that time, I was completely worn out, so I told him I would turn in. So Nick departed on foot to continue his observation of human interaction in the red-light district, which he finds absolutely interesting from a sociological and an anthropological perspective. As I hardly ever engage in people-watching, this wasn't of much interest to me, and was happy enough to be able to retire for the night.
I have to say that I was a tad bit disappointed, probably because I had already experienced the novelty in Stockholm three years ago. All the same, the space didn't seem as nice as the one in Stockholm, but the temperature was considerably colder, at -10C. We were furnished with heavy parkas and ill-fitting leather mittens, and we were offered two drinks (instead of the one drink in Stockholm). Considering that I was still fretting about my antibiotics, I got the non-alcoholic tropical fruit juice for the first drink. We were then shown a pretty lame animated film in what was touted as being in 4D. It involved a squirrel falling down tunnels, and ran for more than 9 minutes. I quickly lost interest. After the film, we were offered our second drink, and I chose a sour puss shooter. Now speaking of shooters, it is a pretty common occurence in Amsterdam to see offers of 10 shooters for 10 euros in the bars. I think this is incredibly cheap!
I left the ice bar to reemerge into the driving rain, and slowly inched my way to the north of the city. I cannot believe that I have been here such a long time and had not yet seen the famed red-light district, with its well-known shop windows from which the prostitutes display their wares. But before I arrived there, I stopped for my next order of patat, and this time, it was a much more Dutch treat. The French fries came with four sauces: ketchup, curry sauce, satay sauce (a peanut butter base) and (my favourite) joopie sauce (a sort of sweet, tangy, yellow-coloured sauce). This time, I really enjoyed the experience, and washed it all down with a Coca Cola.
By 10:00 p.m., the display windows were starting to be lit up, and the shapely female prostitutes began to ply their trade. It was a very interesting sight, particularly studying the groups of drunken young men, especially groups of British guys in bachelor parties, as they approach the windows and asked how much it would cost for their turn. I have to say that the whole scene was somehow less seedy than I expected. I had somehow thought that here in Amsterdam, where prostitution is regulated, the women would be completely naked, but it was not the case. After having had my fill of this spectacle, I stopped off at a bar to get a (ho-hum) bottle of water. I did a bit of bar hopping, but there was nothing to write home about, so I left the red-light district and eventually made my way back home. I must have gone to bed around 2:00 a.m. (I am so not used to having Coca Cola, or any amount of caffeine, for that matter.
The next morning came around much too quickly, so that I opened my eyes and realized it was already past 11:00. I had not yet had such a late start to the day, because I had been pretty disciplined for much of my trip, in order to take advantage of being abroad to do the whole tourist thing. But my rising late in the day pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day to follow, as shall be seen shortly. I had planned to go to both the Sex museum and the Van Gogh museum this morning, before the arrival of my good friend Nick, who was scheduled to arrive in Amsterdam from Brussels at 2:00 p.m. But because I got up so late, I had to totally revise my plan. So I slowly got ready (after having played a few games of the addictive "Ticket to Ride" on my iPhone), and headed out into the city around 12:30 p.m. I walked around for a bit, taking in the sights, sounds and smells, before arriving at the monument in The Dam, where I spotted Nick. It was very good to see him. I met Nick at work back in 2006, and three years later, he accepted a job in Belgium, so I don't get to see him that often nowadays. I last saw him last summer when he, his wife and their toddler son visited Canada in August.
Nick asked me if I had eaten yet, and I had to explain that I was still waiting for 2:30 to come around, because it had still not been two hours since my antibiotics. So, we wandered around a bit and Nick, who knows the city like the back of his hand, since he comes up here fairly regularly, led the way to a great little Indonesian restaurant. Now since the Netherlands (or Holland) had colonized both Suriname and Indonesia, its cuisine was heavily influenced by the contributions of these former Dutch colonies, and I really wanted to try these foods, but had still not had a chance to sample them.
The restaurant was a great little place, and Nick and I got a very light bite to eat, a simple fried noodle dish, which I have to say was perfect. Nick was thinking we would keep it light, maybe nibble on munchies along the way, and save our appetites for a larger meal at another Indonesian restaurant he wanted to make a reservation at. Since the restaurant only opens at 9:00 p.m., I kew that I would miss the Eurovision finale tonight. But that was OK. So during the rest of the afternoon, Nick introduced me to his "flaneur" approach to travel. It was nice, not having to schedule anything or plan ahead of time, but just go with the flow. We stopped along the way to eat a pastry here (usually of the strawberry variety), or a patat there. As we walked along the canals, or followed the meandering streets, Nick was able to show me areas of the city I had not yet explored. And what was really nice is that he snatched my camera from me and took some pictures of me, which are sadly missing from my trip. He was a regular shutterbug, and I have to say he has a very good eye, because there are a number of shots of myself that I really like. We entered many book stores, DVD shops and CD boutiques. Because we have so many common interests, it was a pleasure travelling with him. At one point, he pointed out to me that this trip would end up being the most consecutive time we have ever hung out together. I hadn't thought of it that way, but realized it was true.
After having made a brief stop back at the apartment for Nick to drop off his travel bag and few purchases, we were ready to seek out the Indonesian restaurant where he had made a reservation for us. Oh my God, was the meal gargantuan and sublime! I don't think I have seen so much food since my experience with the smorgasbord onboard the Silja Serenade! Nick ordered the King's Feast for us, which started off with two spring rolls each. After this appetizer, the plates kept coming and coming, and being piled onto a special board that was set in the middle of our table: spicy braised beef in a hot pepper sauce, fried fish in a sweet sauce, vegetables and tofu, pickled cucumbers, breaded chicken in a sweet and sour sauce, steamed rice, Indonesian fried rice, breaded shrimp on a skewer, coconut shavings with almonds for the rice, crispy Indonesian rice chips... These are just off the top of my head. We absolutely gorged ourselves on the heaping mounds of food, and suddenly, like a light switch being turned on, we were full. I have never experienced fullness so suddenly, and I was absolutely stuffed. Unfortunately, there was still some food left on several of these plates. Suffice it to say that this was an incredibly delicious experience.
Too full to have any dessert, Nick and I left the restaurant and gradually headed on foot back to the apartment, where I crashed. My meal had been so heavy I didn't feel like doing much, but Nick declared around midnight that he had the urge to walk off his meal. By that time, I was completely worn out, so I told him I would turn in. So Nick departed on foot to continue his observation of human interaction in the red-light district, which he finds absolutely interesting from a sociological and an anthropological perspective. As I hardly ever engage in people-watching, this wasn't of much interest to me, and was happy enough to be able to retire for the night.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Cheese, Wooden Clogs and Windmills
After I left off last night, I decided to have an early dinner, so at 5:30 p.m. I stopped at a French fries stand. I was hoping to have a traditional patat, homecut French fries served with a variety of Dutch-created dipping sauces. The fries were very good, but the only sauces I got were mayonnaise and ketchup, so not exactly exciting. I will have to try again and get the peanut butter sauce or the curry sauce.
A word on the weather I have had so far on my vacation. I really can't complain. In fact, after more than two weeks, yesterday was the first day when it rained. The rest of the time, it has been sunny, or cloudy at most. It was very cold in Helsinki and I was glad I had my leather jacket with me. When I got to Stockholm, the mercury soared to the low 20Cs, and I could walk very comfortably in my sleeveless shirts. As soon as I got to Copenhagen, the jacket came on again, and I am still wearing it here in Amsterdam. Even if it rained yesterday, I was fine with the umbrella Claire and Yael provided me with in the apartment.
I got to the apartment around 6:30 p.m., and just relaxed for a while. While I was checking out my text messages and e-mails, I got a text message from Hans in Stockholm to let me know that the second semi-finals of the Eurovision Song Contest would be on at 9:00 p.m. last night, so I immediately knew what I was going to do with my evening. It was fun watching all of the performances, especially the official Romanian entry that always makes me laugh with his falsetto tones. I still think that Denmark deserves the win, as far as I am concerned. The only annoyance was that the Eurovision broadcast was dubbed in Dutch and I couldn't understand a word.
I suppose it was because I had had that caffeine in the Coca Cola at dinner, but I didn't feel like going to bed until well after 1:00 a.m., even if I knew I had an early start for the tour of the Netherlands this morning. Fortunately, I discovered how to set the alarm on my iPhone, so I set it for 7:00 a.m. As luck would have it, I didn't need it at all and woke up on my own shortly before 7:00.
I showered, got dressed and hopped the tram at the Leidsestraat stop. I made my way to the Central station, from which I could walk to the tour agency on Damrak, from where the bus tour would be departing. Despite being told yesterday that the trip by tram would take 20 minutes at most, I was at the Central station within a matter of minutes, and had plenty of time when I got to the bus around 8:30. The bus was almost full, and we left, as scheduled, at 9:00 a.m.
Our first stop this morning was the small town of Volendam, where we would tour a traditional cheese-making factory. We made our way north of Amsterdam, and within minutes of leaving the outskirts of the city, we were in the middle of the beautiful Dutch countryside. It was so incredibly flat, and our guide informed us that much of the country is below sea-level, in some cases, as much as 7 meters below. Everywhere I looked, I saw lush green fields, a maze of canals running through them, and either sheep or cows out to pasture. I took quite a few photographs. We got to Volendam, where we were given a demonstration of the centuries-old process of making different kinds of Dutch cheese, from the milk obtained from cows, goats and even sheep. I was given the chance to taste cheese made out of sheep's milk, and it was nice and mild. We were told the Dutch like to have their cheese with dipping sauces, so we tried a variety of them. I tried the Dijon mustard, the Dijon mustard with fine herbs, the apple and cinnamon jam, the orange marmalade, all of them delicious. At the same time, I was trying to nibble as little as possible, because I had just taken my antibiotic and had to have it on an empty stomach for two hours. But I did not want to let this chance go by without sampling authentic Dutch cheese.
Around 10:30 a.m., we were led to our waiting boat, and we began our passage to the former island of Marken, which used to be an important fishing village. However, the ingenious Dutch managed to build dykes and levees to link the island to the mainland, and in so doing, they created a lake from the sea. This lake consists entirely of fresh water, so no fish can thrive in this environment. Consequently, the village has turned to tourism for its main support. Also, many residents have now opted to work in the neighbouring city of Amsterdam, so they commute to and from their picturesque little piece of heaven. The village was very quaint, and it had several pleasure boats moored along the coast. The reason for our stop here was to visit a traditional wooden clog maker. We were also given a thorough demonstration of how wooden clogs are sculpted primarily from poplar (but also from willow), because this wood is very malleable and ideal for carving, yet after 4 weeks' time, it becomes as hard and as water-proof as rock. Wooden clogs are still worn in some parts of the Netherlands, and the man who made a wooden clog before our very eyes even wore a pair as he worked.
It was at this point that I noticed the young dark-skinned man who elected to sit next to me on the bus. He definitely seemed interested in me, and usually kept fairly close to me whenever the group moved. We began a conversation, and I learned that he is here on a two-day vacation, after having been here for work. He works in the fashion industry in Dubai, so he is not used to this type of weather and shivered in the cold, damp air of this former fishing village. We continued chatting on the bus, in between the guide's continued commentary on the Dutch countryside. I learned that he was born in Mumbai, India, and has lived in seven different cities over the past 20 years. His work in the fashion industry brings him to travel to different cities in the world, on average 20 days a month.
We arrived in the little village of Zaanse Schans around 12:30, and at this point, I was ravenous, because I had had nothing to eat yet. But my priority was to visit the windmills first, and time permitting during our 50-minute stop, I would have a bite to eat. There were at least seven windmills dotting the landscape, and I took A LOT of pictures. I was even given the opportunity to pay my 3 euros for entrance into a windmill, and climb the steep, precarious steps of the three separate staircases leading to the top of the structure. I could climb out of that space and take photographs of the landscape and of the occasional blade that rotated before our eyes. Having seen what I had come to see, I sought out some food. Unfortunately, there was very little available in the village in terms of restaurants, so I went to a small cafeteria tucked in a corner of the gift shop and got myself a sausage roll, a hotdog and a bottle of Coca Cola. It was definitely time for me to eat. The young man, whose name I had not yet learned, had his toasted cheese sandwich at my table, explaining that he too had skipped breakfast. He told me that he is a vegetarian. After having eaten, he and I rejoined our group (which included three obnoxious French women), and boarded our bus for the return to Amsterdam. All the time I spoke to this young man in his late thirties, I was left wondering whether he was really attracted to me, or if it was all my imagination, because I practically have no gaydar to speak of. Anyway, at 2:00 p.m. we arrived back in Amsterdam, where he was bound for another 5-hour bus tour of other Dutch sights/sites. So, he finally introduced himself as, I believe, Pooni, told me it was a pleasure to meet me, shaking my hand firmly and looking directly into my eyes. And thus we parted.
Anyway, at that point I took another tram back to my lodgings to deposit my purchases, and to relax in bed a bit. I am getting by on very little sleep (after all, I am on vacation), but it is really exhausting. I checked my Facebook, text messages and e-mails, then played a few video games on my iPhone. I finally decided at 4:00 p.m. that it was time for me to head out in search of an Internet cafe to update my blog. I took the tram back to the Central station and -- surprisingly for me -- managed to find the same Internet cafe I was in yesterday. So, that pretty much sums up where I am now. Tonight, I intend to go to the ice bar for a drink, and I keep telling myself that a single drink should not interfere with my antibiotics. But before then, I will have dinner.
A word on the weather I have had so far on my vacation. I really can't complain. In fact, after more than two weeks, yesterday was the first day when it rained. The rest of the time, it has been sunny, or cloudy at most. It was very cold in Helsinki and I was glad I had my leather jacket with me. When I got to Stockholm, the mercury soared to the low 20Cs, and I could walk very comfortably in my sleeveless shirts. As soon as I got to Copenhagen, the jacket came on again, and I am still wearing it here in Amsterdam. Even if it rained yesterday, I was fine with the umbrella Claire and Yael provided me with in the apartment.
I got to the apartment around 6:30 p.m., and just relaxed for a while. While I was checking out my text messages and e-mails, I got a text message from Hans in Stockholm to let me know that the second semi-finals of the Eurovision Song Contest would be on at 9:00 p.m. last night, so I immediately knew what I was going to do with my evening. It was fun watching all of the performances, especially the official Romanian entry that always makes me laugh with his falsetto tones. I still think that Denmark deserves the win, as far as I am concerned. The only annoyance was that the Eurovision broadcast was dubbed in Dutch and I couldn't understand a word.
I suppose it was because I had had that caffeine in the Coca Cola at dinner, but I didn't feel like going to bed until well after 1:00 a.m., even if I knew I had an early start for the tour of the Netherlands this morning. Fortunately, I discovered how to set the alarm on my iPhone, so I set it for 7:00 a.m. As luck would have it, I didn't need it at all and woke up on my own shortly before 7:00.
I showered, got dressed and hopped the tram at the Leidsestraat stop. I made my way to the Central station, from which I could walk to the tour agency on Damrak, from where the bus tour would be departing. Despite being told yesterday that the trip by tram would take 20 minutes at most, I was at the Central station within a matter of minutes, and had plenty of time when I got to the bus around 8:30. The bus was almost full, and we left, as scheduled, at 9:00 a.m.
Our first stop this morning was the small town of Volendam, where we would tour a traditional cheese-making factory. We made our way north of Amsterdam, and within minutes of leaving the outskirts of the city, we were in the middle of the beautiful Dutch countryside. It was so incredibly flat, and our guide informed us that much of the country is below sea-level, in some cases, as much as 7 meters below. Everywhere I looked, I saw lush green fields, a maze of canals running through them, and either sheep or cows out to pasture. I took quite a few photographs. We got to Volendam, where we were given a demonstration of the centuries-old process of making different kinds of Dutch cheese, from the milk obtained from cows, goats and even sheep. I was given the chance to taste cheese made out of sheep's milk, and it was nice and mild. We were told the Dutch like to have their cheese with dipping sauces, so we tried a variety of them. I tried the Dijon mustard, the Dijon mustard with fine herbs, the apple and cinnamon jam, the orange marmalade, all of them delicious. At the same time, I was trying to nibble as little as possible, because I had just taken my antibiotic and had to have it on an empty stomach for two hours. But I did not want to let this chance go by without sampling authentic Dutch cheese.
Around 10:30 a.m., we were led to our waiting boat, and we began our passage to the former island of Marken, which used to be an important fishing village. However, the ingenious Dutch managed to build dykes and levees to link the island to the mainland, and in so doing, they created a lake from the sea. This lake consists entirely of fresh water, so no fish can thrive in this environment. Consequently, the village has turned to tourism for its main support. Also, many residents have now opted to work in the neighbouring city of Amsterdam, so they commute to and from their picturesque little piece of heaven. The village was very quaint, and it had several pleasure boats moored along the coast. The reason for our stop here was to visit a traditional wooden clog maker. We were also given a thorough demonstration of how wooden clogs are sculpted primarily from poplar (but also from willow), because this wood is very malleable and ideal for carving, yet after 4 weeks' time, it becomes as hard and as water-proof as rock. Wooden clogs are still worn in some parts of the Netherlands, and the man who made a wooden clog before our very eyes even wore a pair as he worked.
It was at this point that I noticed the young dark-skinned man who elected to sit next to me on the bus. He definitely seemed interested in me, and usually kept fairly close to me whenever the group moved. We began a conversation, and I learned that he is here on a two-day vacation, after having been here for work. He works in the fashion industry in Dubai, so he is not used to this type of weather and shivered in the cold, damp air of this former fishing village. We continued chatting on the bus, in between the guide's continued commentary on the Dutch countryside. I learned that he was born in Mumbai, India, and has lived in seven different cities over the past 20 years. His work in the fashion industry brings him to travel to different cities in the world, on average 20 days a month.
We arrived in the little village of Zaanse Schans around 12:30, and at this point, I was ravenous, because I had had nothing to eat yet. But my priority was to visit the windmills first, and time permitting during our 50-minute stop, I would have a bite to eat. There were at least seven windmills dotting the landscape, and I took A LOT of pictures. I was even given the opportunity to pay my 3 euros for entrance into a windmill, and climb the steep, precarious steps of the three separate staircases leading to the top of the structure. I could climb out of that space and take photographs of the landscape and of the occasional blade that rotated before our eyes. Having seen what I had come to see, I sought out some food. Unfortunately, there was very little available in the village in terms of restaurants, so I went to a small cafeteria tucked in a corner of the gift shop and got myself a sausage roll, a hotdog and a bottle of Coca Cola. It was definitely time for me to eat. The young man, whose name I had not yet learned, had his toasted cheese sandwich at my table, explaining that he too had skipped breakfast. He told me that he is a vegetarian. After having eaten, he and I rejoined our group (which included three obnoxious French women), and boarded our bus for the return to Amsterdam. All the time I spoke to this young man in his late thirties, I was left wondering whether he was really attracted to me, or if it was all my imagination, because I practically have no gaydar to speak of. Anyway, at 2:00 p.m. we arrived back in Amsterdam, where he was bound for another 5-hour bus tour of other Dutch sights/sites. So, he finally introduced himself as, I believe, Pooni, told me it was a pleasure to meet me, shaking my hand firmly and looking directly into my eyes. And thus we parted.
Anyway, at that point I took another tram back to my lodgings to deposit my purchases, and to relax in bed a bit. I am getting by on very little sleep (after all, I am on vacation), but it is really exhausting. I checked my Facebook, text messages and e-mails, then played a few video games on my iPhone. I finally decided at 4:00 p.m. that it was time for me to head out in search of an Internet cafe to update my blog. I took the tram back to the Central station and -- surprisingly for me -- managed to find the same Internet cafe I was in yesterday. So, that pretty much sums up where I am now. Tonight, I intend to go to the ice bar for a drink, and I keep telling myself that a single drink should not interfere with my antibiotics. But before then, I will have dinner.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Museum Musings
I woke up on my own at 7:00 a.m. this morning. This was quite the feat, because I had only gotten to bed around 1:30, after having read the news that the Librarian and Archivist of Canada suddenly resigned his position yesterday afternoon, apparently over allegations of improper spending.
I got up and got ready to face the day. My main goal this morning was to make it to the Anne Frank museum, which is located in the house the Frank family hid in during the Second World War. It is notoriously difficult to visit, because there are always long, long line-ups of people who want to get in, so my plan was to get there early. I arrived at the museum at 8:00, and realized that it only opened at 9:00. But it worked out well, because I ended up being the first in line. And that line ended up being extremely long by the time we were allowed to enter the museum.
I have to say that the museum was a lot harder to visit than I had imagined. We got to see the authentic bookcase that was used as a door to the secret annex where the Frank family hid from the Nazis all those years ago. There were original artifacts, photographs and film footage that made the whole horrible story so real. I felt kind of numb, on the verge of tears the entire time I was in the house. Before going in, I jokingly thought I would put on my Facebook page that I had visited the Anne Frank house, and somehow managed to avoid getting Bieber fever (an allusion to a terrible comment Justin Bieber made only a few weeks ago, that if Anne Frank were still living, she would be a Belieber, which was in exceedingly poor taste). But even making that comment on Facebook after having visited the museum seemed so wrong. It took a couple of hours for me to regain some perspective. As I signed the guest book, I noticed that the couple who had signed immediately before me were from Moncton, New Brunswick.
As I was scheduled to take my antibiotic at 10:30 a.m., and I cannot have any food in my stomach two hours before or after taking it, I was still fasting as I made my way to the Rijksmuseum, the Dutch State Museum. I got to see and photograph some very famous paintings by Dutch masters: Vermeer's Milkmaid, Rembrandt's Jewish Bride, and his Night Watch Room, and a self-portrait by Van Gogh. By 1:40 p.m., I was losing steam, partly because I had not slept long last night, but especially because I had not eaten yet. So I exited the museum and got a lemon muffin for starters. From there, I made my way to a small diner, where I sampled 8 different Dutch fried foods, eaten either with mustard or with sweet and sour sauce. These included fried cheese fingers, deep-fried meatballs, fried minced meat snacks, spicy spring rolls, cheese snacks, crispy chicken bites, springrolls filled with duck, and finally, bitterballen, the one I had identified at home as something I wanted to try. I think it was the first time on my trip that I tasted a new food that I did not care for. The bitterballen had a deep fried crunch to it, but then you bite into a paste of nondescript meat. Not to my liking. I washed everything down with a no-alcohol Bavaria beer. There was a bit of a hassle paying my bill because the diner does not accept credit cards and I only had 5 euros on me. So, I had to leave my driver's license with them in order to go get some cash from the debit machine. In the end, everything worked out fine, and I now have euros in my wallet.
My next stop was at a record shop, on my way to the north end of the city. And I was pretty pleased to find and buy the Eurovision double-CD, a great souvenir of my trip to Malmo. From there, I kept north, hoping to find the spot from where my tour of Holland leaves tomorrow morning. I finally found it, but it is a fair distance from my apartment, probably a 40 minute walk. If I need to be here tomorrow morning by 8:30 a.m. for our 9 o'clock departure, I will need to find a way to get there quickly. The lady at the desk suggested I take the tram, which will still take about 20 minutes. I stopped off at a little cafe where I got a delicious appletartje, a sort of apple and raisin square, which was amazing. The cashier there was able to direct me to this Internet cafe, where I have finally updated my blog. It is now 5:30 p.m., and I am about to decide what to do next. I hope to make it an early night, because I want to be ready for an early start tomorrow.
I got up and got ready to face the day. My main goal this morning was to make it to the Anne Frank museum, which is located in the house the Frank family hid in during the Second World War. It is notoriously difficult to visit, because there are always long, long line-ups of people who want to get in, so my plan was to get there early. I arrived at the museum at 8:00, and realized that it only opened at 9:00. But it worked out well, because I ended up being the first in line. And that line ended up being extremely long by the time we were allowed to enter the museum.
I have to say that the museum was a lot harder to visit than I had imagined. We got to see the authentic bookcase that was used as a door to the secret annex where the Frank family hid from the Nazis all those years ago. There were original artifacts, photographs and film footage that made the whole horrible story so real. I felt kind of numb, on the verge of tears the entire time I was in the house. Before going in, I jokingly thought I would put on my Facebook page that I had visited the Anne Frank house, and somehow managed to avoid getting Bieber fever (an allusion to a terrible comment Justin Bieber made only a few weeks ago, that if Anne Frank were still living, she would be a Belieber, which was in exceedingly poor taste). But even making that comment on Facebook after having visited the museum seemed so wrong. It took a couple of hours for me to regain some perspective. As I signed the guest book, I noticed that the couple who had signed immediately before me were from Moncton, New Brunswick.
As I was scheduled to take my antibiotic at 10:30 a.m., and I cannot have any food in my stomach two hours before or after taking it, I was still fasting as I made my way to the Rijksmuseum, the Dutch State Museum. I got to see and photograph some very famous paintings by Dutch masters: Vermeer's Milkmaid, Rembrandt's Jewish Bride, and his Night Watch Room, and a self-portrait by Van Gogh. By 1:40 p.m., I was losing steam, partly because I had not slept long last night, but especially because I had not eaten yet. So I exited the museum and got a lemon muffin for starters. From there, I made my way to a small diner, where I sampled 8 different Dutch fried foods, eaten either with mustard or with sweet and sour sauce. These included fried cheese fingers, deep-fried meatballs, fried minced meat snacks, spicy spring rolls, cheese snacks, crispy chicken bites, springrolls filled with duck, and finally, bitterballen, the one I had identified at home as something I wanted to try. I think it was the first time on my trip that I tasted a new food that I did not care for. The bitterballen had a deep fried crunch to it, but then you bite into a paste of nondescript meat. Not to my liking. I washed everything down with a no-alcohol Bavaria beer. There was a bit of a hassle paying my bill because the diner does not accept credit cards and I only had 5 euros on me. So, I had to leave my driver's license with them in order to go get some cash from the debit machine. In the end, everything worked out fine, and I now have euros in my wallet.
My next stop was at a record shop, on my way to the north end of the city. And I was pretty pleased to find and buy the Eurovision double-CD, a great souvenir of my trip to Malmo. From there, I kept north, hoping to find the spot from where my tour of Holland leaves tomorrow morning. I finally found it, but it is a fair distance from my apartment, probably a 40 minute walk. If I need to be here tomorrow morning by 8:30 a.m. for our 9 o'clock departure, I will need to find a way to get there quickly. The lady at the desk suggested I take the tram, which will still take about 20 minutes. I stopped off at a little cafe where I got a delicious appletartje, a sort of apple and raisin square, which was amazing. The cashier there was able to direct me to this Internet cafe, where I have finally updated my blog. It is now 5:30 p.m., and I am about to decide what to do next. I hope to make it an early night, because I want to be ready for an early start tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Final Destination: Amsterdam
I heard Tinna leave the house this morning at 7:30, which woke me up. So I got up and got ready to leave Copenhagen. I shaved, showered, got dressed and saw that Emil was still at home, so I asked him if I could borrow his laptop again so that I could blog. I really hope that the next time I travel to Europe I will have a laptop of my own to blog with. It has been difficult keeping my blog without one: in Helsinki, I had to try to use the only available computer in the hotel; in Stockholm, I was always heading to the 7-Eleven; in Copenhagen, I had to borrow Emil and Tinna's. Not the best...
After having finished updating my blog, and saying goodbye to Emil, who left for work, I started getting all of my stuff ready for my impending departure. But before leaving the premises for good, I ventured out and got two bouquets of roses, to surprise my hosts: a dozen orange roses and a dozen pink roses (together, they were only about 20 dollars Canadian). I really wanted to make this small gesture to thank them for taking care of me when I fell ill. I came back to the house, signed their guest book, placed the open guest book with my message on the kitchen counter, next to the roses, and deposited my key on my bedroom dresser. Although I cannot say that I really enjoyed my time in Copenhagen, I will forever be grateful to Emil and Tinna for being so warm, caring and genuine.
I got a banana and a bottle of water at the 7-Eleven, and hopped a bus that took me to Norreport. From there, I was able to take the subway directly to the airport, where I arrived around 1:40 p.m. My flight was not scheduled to depart for a few hours, but this gave me time to scout the airport for lunch and for additional souvenirs. I got my Dad another gift here, and bought myself a Eurovision 2013 scarf that I can use for decoration at home. I was hoping to get my hands on the Eurovision CD, because it would be a good memory of my night in Malmo, but I was unable to find one. Perhaps in Amsterdam... In the meantime, I had lunch at the airport: two more smorrebrod (of the shrimp and egg variety), and an alcohol-free Tuborg. My meal was sublime, but, as usual in Denmark, expensive. Roughly 25 dollars for lunch. Earlier, when I was at the 7-Eleven, I noticed they had Haagen Dasz ice cream. I always think that at 7 dollars for a tub at home, it is kind of pricy. But here in Copenhagen, the same tub sells for 20 dollars. Suffice it to say I did not get any.
My flight departed as scheduled at 3:20 p.m. It was only a short 80 minute flight to Amsterdam, so I passed the time by reading a chapter in the Benny Andersson biography, and by napping. We got in to Amsterdam on schedule. At the airport, I accidentally exited the arrivals area without having retrieved my luggage: I thought the carrousel was located beyond the set of doors. Fortunately, they let me in again to get my suitcase, which by this time, was one of only two pieces of luggage going around and around.
I inquired at the tourist information office and got a map to the city. I also bought my ticket for an excursion into the Dutch countryside, to see the real Holland. I bought my ticket for Friday, so that way, my weekend will be free for when my friend Nick comes up from Brussels to see me. Incidentally, it is his birthday tomorrow.
I took the bus from the airport directly to Leidseplein, near the site of my new lodgings on Max Eweplein. I had told the owner of the apartment I rented that, erring on the side of caution, I would arrive at the flat at 7:00 p.m. to meet with her and to get the keys. I got there around 6:15, with plenty of time to spare, so I sat at the nearby Hard Rock Cafe, where I was able to take advantage of their free wi-fi (only after I had been asked to like their site on my Facebook page).
At 7:00 p.m., I was greeted at the door of the flat by Yael, whom I am assuming is the girlfriend of Claire, who owns the apartment. Yael let me inside and gave me a tour of the amazing two-bedroom apartment I have rented. It is located in a very nice neighbourhood, and from the little I have seen of Amsterdam, I like the city way better than Copenhagen already. Then came the issue of payment. Claire and Yael had requested that I make a cash payment for the apartment, in addition to the 10% down-payment I had made when I booked the flat. I had been very uneasy with the whole idea of carrying 700 euros (about 1000 dollars) cash with me in a travel belt for two weeks, and I was still a little uneasy about making this payment without a receipt. But that's me, always nervous. Anyway, Yael told me she would send me an e-mail message when she got in, stating that the payment had been made in full. She kept to her word and sent me that e-mail confirmation later in the evening.
I was getting ready to go out and grab dinner around 8:00 p.m., when I tried unlocking the front door to get back in to the flat. Try as I may, I could not get the door to open. I wondered whether the key simply did not work. I called Claire on my iPhone, and asked her if there was a trick to opening the door. She said that she could come over whenever I wanted, just to see what the problem is. So, I told her I was just on my way to get dinner, and she suggested she come over at 9:30, which I agreed to. I had my dinner at a nice little restaurant that promised traditional Dutch fare. The waiter recommended I have the Hutspot met een Sukadelapje (Carrot and onion with tender beef), which was served with a mound of mashed potatoes and gravy. Was it ever good! And for dessert, I tried a Dutch delicacy I was hoping to try when I was here in the Netherlands, poffertjes met roomboter, poedersuiker en vanille-ijs (Poffertjes with butter, powdered sugar and vanilla ice cream). The poffertjes are minuscule, thumb-sized pancakes. They taste great with the powdered sugar and ice cream. I quickly cleaned my bowl.
When Claire showed up at 9:30, I was really ashamed to see that the problem was that I had to pull on the door handle to get the key to make that last little click, in order to open the door. Claire was good-natured about the whole thing, and said there was no problem at all. Furthermore, she said if I needed any other assistance, I would just need to call her and she would be there shortly, as she lives nearby. I was glad that that was sorted out, so I thanked her and walked a bit in Amsterdam to familiarise myself with my new surroundings.
After having finished updating my blog, and saying goodbye to Emil, who left for work, I started getting all of my stuff ready for my impending departure. But before leaving the premises for good, I ventured out and got two bouquets of roses, to surprise my hosts: a dozen orange roses and a dozen pink roses (together, they were only about 20 dollars Canadian). I really wanted to make this small gesture to thank them for taking care of me when I fell ill. I came back to the house, signed their guest book, placed the open guest book with my message on the kitchen counter, next to the roses, and deposited my key on my bedroom dresser. Although I cannot say that I really enjoyed my time in Copenhagen, I will forever be grateful to Emil and Tinna for being so warm, caring and genuine.
I got a banana and a bottle of water at the 7-Eleven, and hopped a bus that took me to Norreport. From there, I was able to take the subway directly to the airport, where I arrived around 1:40 p.m. My flight was not scheduled to depart for a few hours, but this gave me time to scout the airport for lunch and for additional souvenirs. I got my Dad another gift here, and bought myself a Eurovision 2013 scarf that I can use for decoration at home. I was hoping to get my hands on the Eurovision CD, because it would be a good memory of my night in Malmo, but I was unable to find one. Perhaps in Amsterdam... In the meantime, I had lunch at the airport: two more smorrebrod (of the shrimp and egg variety), and an alcohol-free Tuborg. My meal was sublime, but, as usual in Denmark, expensive. Roughly 25 dollars for lunch. Earlier, when I was at the 7-Eleven, I noticed they had Haagen Dasz ice cream. I always think that at 7 dollars for a tub at home, it is kind of pricy. But here in Copenhagen, the same tub sells for 20 dollars. Suffice it to say I did not get any.
My flight departed as scheduled at 3:20 p.m. It was only a short 80 minute flight to Amsterdam, so I passed the time by reading a chapter in the Benny Andersson biography, and by napping. We got in to Amsterdam on schedule. At the airport, I accidentally exited the arrivals area without having retrieved my luggage: I thought the carrousel was located beyond the set of doors. Fortunately, they let me in again to get my suitcase, which by this time, was one of only two pieces of luggage going around and around.
I inquired at the tourist information office and got a map to the city. I also bought my ticket for an excursion into the Dutch countryside, to see the real Holland. I bought my ticket for Friday, so that way, my weekend will be free for when my friend Nick comes up from Brussels to see me. Incidentally, it is his birthday tomorrow.
I took the bus from the airport directly to Leidseplein, near the site of my new lodgings on Max Eweplein. I had told the owner of the apartment I rented that, erring on the side of caution, I would arrive at the flat at 7:00 p.m. to meet with her and to get the keys. I got there around 6:15, with plenty of time to spare, so I sat at the nearby Hard Rock Cafe, where I was able to take advantage of their free wi-fi (only after I had been asked to like their site on my Facebook page).
At 7:00 p.m., I was greeted at the door of the flat by Yael, whom I am assuming is the girlfriend of Claire, who owns the apartment. Yael let me inside and gave me a tour of the amazing two-bedroom apartment I have rented. It is located in a very nice neighbourhood, and from the little I have seen of Amsterdam, I like the city way better than Copenhagen already. Then came the issue of payment. Claire and Yael had requested that I make a cash payment for the apartment, in addition to the 10% down-payment I had made when I booked the flat. I had been very uneasy with the whole idea of carrying 700 euros (about 1000 dollars) cash with me in a travel belt for two weeks, and I was still a little uneasy about making this payment without a receipt. But that's me, always nervous. Anyway, Yael told me she would send me an e-mail message when she got in, stating that the payment had been made in full. She kept to her word and sent me that e-mail confirmation later in the evening.
I was getting ready to go out and grab dinner around 8:00 p.m., when I tried unlocking the front door to get back in to the flat. Try as I may, I could not get the door to open. I wondered whether the key simply did not work. I called Claire on my iPhone, and asked her if there was a trick to opening the door. She said that she could come over whenever I wanted, just to see what the problem is. So, I told her I was just on my way to get dinner, and she suggested she come over at 9:30, which I agreed to. I had my dinner at a nice little restaurant that promised traditional Dutch fare. The waiter recommended I have the Hutspot met een Sukadelapje (Carrot and onion with tender beef), which was served with a mound of mashed potatoes and gravy. Was it ever good! And for dessert, I tried a Dutch delicacy I was hoping to try when I was here in the Netherlands, poffertjes met roomboter, poedersuiker en vanille-ijs (Poffertjes with butter, powdered sugar and vanilla ice cream). The poffertjes are minuscule, thumb-sized pancakes. They taste great with the powdered sugar and ice cream. I quickly cleaned my bowl.
When Claire showed up at 9:30, I was really ashamed to see that the problem was that I had to pull on the door handle to get the key to make that last little click, in order to open the door. Claire was good-natured about the whole thing, and said there was no problem at all. Furthermore, she said if I needed any other assistance, I would just need to call her and she would be there shortly, as she lives nearby. I was glad that that was sorted out, so I thanked her and walked a bit in Amsterdam to familiarise myself with my new surroundings.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Hamlet Hauntings and Eurovision Euphoria
Let me start today's post by mentioning that in my last post, I wanted to go have that celebratory drink at the ice bar in Copenhagen. I had been to the ice bar in Stockholm in 2010 and really enjoyed my experience there, so I figured I would visit the one in Denmark while I was here. After a lengthy search to find Hotel 27, where the ice bar was once located, I was told that it just closed last December. That's how I ended up searching for another venue for that drink.
I started my day around 9:00 a.m. this morning, when I got up, got ready and made my way to the train station by bus. Since I had bought myself the Øresund rundt ticket yesterday, I was eager to make my way to Helsingør, Helsingborg, Malmö and back to Copenhagen again. Because I started my antibiotics last night, I figured I would get some bananas to help with my digestion, as well as a few croissants. I have to wait two hours after taking them before I can eat, so I was hungry until I could finally have breakfast around 11:00. I boarded my train around that time and was able to get into Helsingør, Denmark, just before noon.
Helsingør is best remembered as the setting for William Shakespeare's play "Hamlet", although in his work, he refers to the place as Elsinore. The Kronborg castle in Helsingør is the inspiration for the setting of the play. Just in front of the Helsingør train station are two statues depicting Hamlet and Ophelia. I slowly made my way from the train station to the castle, which was visible from the station. When I arrived, I was able to confirm that the visit of the castle was free with my Copenhagen card. I made my way past the gift shop, with its multitude of Shakespearian souvenirs, and began my visit of the royal apartments. It is here that I learned that the original castle was built in the 15th century, to defend Denmark from the frequent Swedish attacks. Helsingør became a major player in the Baltic area, and all of the foreign ships that passed through the Øresund strait had to pay for their passage, thus enriching the Danish state.
The royal apartments consisted of several huge rooms, including the reception room, the king and queen's bed chambers, the ball room, and the latrines. Helsingør remained a Danish possession for much of its existence, although the Swedes did manage to take it in the 1600s and held it for two years before departing, taking a huge plunder with them, including the massive sculpture that once adorned the fountain in the courtyard. In the 19th century, the castle was transferred into a military barracks, and served this purpose until well into the 20th century. From 1940 to 1945, during the Nazi occupation, the Germans held Kronborg and used it as a military base to control the entrance to the Baltic Sea.
After having toured the royal apartments, I got to the entrance of the underground casements at 1:00 p.m., just in time to begin a guided tour. Our guide was a young woman with a think Danish accent. She began the tour by telling us the legend of the Danish king who sleeps in the casements, under the castle, and whose likeness a large statue depicts. Legend has it that the king is merely sleeping, but when he wakes again, there will be a terrible war with torrents of blood. From the statue, we made our descent into the casements proper. There was very little lighting here, and our guide had her flashlight with her to guide us into the inner depths of the casements. The air was cold and damp here, a mere 6C, and in the dim light we could see our breath. Our guide told us there is evidence there once was a prison here, and when the casements served as training quarters for the military, soldiers were routinely beaten. I took several photographs of the casements with my camera set at night time. I took pictures of the gloomy, unlit rooms, perhaps inspired by the television show "Ghost Adventures". I have not heard of any tales that the castle is haunted (although the ghost of Hamlet's murdered father does appear in the play), but when I looked at the photographs I had taken, I was really surprised to see that in nearly all of the shots, there are glowing orbs of light, just like in that television show. And even more startling is one shot I took of what was a completely dark underground room: on my photograph, at least in my eye, there appears to be a partial apparition of a human face on two adjacent walls. I see the right-hand side of a face on the wall, complete with hairline, eyebrow, eye and bridge of a nose. The left hand side of the face is missing, but on the right of this mysterious face, I spot a left eye. I cannot wait to show this photograph to friends.
We emerged from the casements, and our guide told us she was next going to give a tour of the royal apartments. As I had just seen them, I left the tour then and made my way to tour the castle chapel. I have to say that my visit to the Kronborg castle exceeded all of my expectations, and I cannot wait to read "Hamlet" again. I bought two post cards and stamps at the gift shop so that I can send them to my parents and to my friend Martin.
I returned to the train station around 2:30 p.m. I could have stayed longer in Helsingør, but I wanted to give myself plenty of time to visit the other sights on my trip around the Øresund strait. I mailed my postcards at the train station, and promptly found my way to the adjoining ferry terminal. The ferry links Helsingør, Denmark to Helsingborg, Sweden, and runs a few times an hour. A single trip is only 25 DKK (about 5 dollars Canadian), and the trip to and from is only 55 DKK (about 11 dollars). My way was of course included in my round-trip ticket.
On the ferry, I took out my ticket and presented it at the small cafe onboard. It entitled me to a 20% discount on a shrimp smørrebrød (open faced sandwich) and a beverage of my choice. I got the fantastic sandwich and an alcohol-free Carlsberg beer. I just had time to have my meal when they announced over the loud speaker that we would be arriving shortly. It isn't any wonder, because the strait is very narrow, we can clearly see the landscape across the water, and passage is a mere 20 minutes by ferry.
I got off the ferry and made my way to the tourist information centre. It was already 3:15 p.m. by then, and I wanted to make sure that I could see something of the city before boarding my train to Malmö. I spoke in Swedish with the attendant, and she provided me with a map of the city, and suggested I visit he church of Sankta Maria, originally built in the 1400s as a Roman Catholic Church, and then converted to a Lutheran church during the Reformation a century later. The very first song I heard after my visit of the Kronborg castle was here in Helsingborg, and it was "Tubular Bells", from "The Exorcist", which played loudly at an outdoor cafe as I passed by. I have to say it kind of creeped me out...
After seeing the Sankta Maria church, I made my way to the Kärnan, a large fortification set on a promontory, from which we have a great view of the city and the Danish coast across the strait. I stuck mainly to the area around Stortorget, Norra Storgatan and Södra Storgatan, and was rewarded with picturesque views of the very old houses along these streets. I tried unsuccessfully to get a soft ice cream cone, because I couldn't use my card at the stand and I wasn't carrying any Swedish currency. Just then, I remembered that when I registered my cards, I hadn't told them I was thinking of travelling to Sweden on this day, so I called my bank just to alert them to the fact that I had made a quick day-trip to Sweden, just to make sure they wouldn't cancel my cards, thinking they had been stolen.
I found my way to the train station and caught the 4:30 p.m. train to Malmö. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open at that point, what with the lack of sleep I have been getting, so I got my iPod out on the train and listened to the only Danish music I knew I had on there: "Roses Are Red" by Aqua. I also listened to some more Swedish music. Our train arrived in Malmö around 5:00 p.m. I was greeted at the train station by loud music, lots of posters for Eurovision, and fans from the different countries that are competing in the song competition this year, all dressed up in wacky clothes. Three Danish fans were dressed in Viking clothes, draped in the Danish flag. It was a little surreal and fun.
I was directed to the Folkets Park on Amiralsgatan, in the heart of Malmö. It is here that a large screen television had been set up in the theater to allow patrons to watch the first semi-finals tonight of the Eurovision Song Contest. In the meantime, I went out in search of Swedish food. But once again, without knowing the city, I despaired at finding any authentic Swedish food, and after about an hour's fruitless search, I settled on Cuban food on the grounds of the Folkets Park. The empanada I had was perfect, but it came served with a heaping mound of salad, the one food I am not tempted to have at all when I am not dieting. I made a valiant effort to eat some of the salad, but most of it remained untouched on my plate. Once again, the Swedish cost of living was hammered home to me: one Coca-Cola and the empanada and salad, roughly 25 dollars Canadian.
It was fun being in a traditional Folkets Park. In the late 60s and early 70s, all Swedish musical acts, including the Hep Stars, the Hotenanny Singers and even ABBA, toured and played these small park venues. I got a feel for what this was like. The small stage show that was set up in the Folkets Park here was intended to be entertainment before the live, sold-out show from the Malmö stadium was broadcast on the large screen. I managed to have that soft ice cream for dessert.
I entered the main pavilion, housed in a Moroccan-inspired building, and took advantage of their free wi-fi to check my Facebook account and text messages. And shortly before 9:00 p.m., I confirmed that there was no charge for the large screen show, and entered the theatre. It was packed with fans from the various countries that are competing in this year's contest. They all had their country's flags, and came prepared to cheer for their home country. The show started with Swedish singer Loreen, who sang last year's winning song, "Euphoria". Because Sweden won last year, they earned the right to host this year's contest, hence Malmö being the host city. Tonight's competition is the first semi-final, where 16 competing artists from the first 16 countries are competing for the 10 available slots. Later this week, the rest of the countries will compete for the last available slots, and at the finale, those who have made it that far will compete for the title of the winner of the 2013 Eurovision song contest. I stayed for all 16 performances, and I believe that of the 16, Denmark made the most lasting impression for me. I think they have a solid chance this year.
I left the Folkets Park around 10:00 p.m., and made my way unsurely to the train station to the north of the city. I got there just as the next train to Copenhagen was set to leave around 11:00, so I hopped on and got safely back to Denmark around a half-hour later. It was another half-hour until the bus dropped me off at my lodgings. I was totally exhausted from my travels today, but really enjoyed myself.
A quick note before I end this post: Copenhagen is really well laid out, with separate lanes for motorists, for bicyclers and for pedestrians. I think Ottawa could learn a lesson or two from the Danes about urban planning!
I started my day around 9:00 a.m. this morning, when I got up, got ready and made my way to the train station by bus. Since I had bought myself the Øresund rundt ticket yesterday, I was eager to make my way to Helsingør, Helsingborg, Malmö and back to Copenhagen again. Because I started my antibiotics last night, I figured I would get some bananas to help with my digestion, as well as a few croissants. I have to wait two hours after taking them before I can eat, so I was hungry until I could finally have breakfast around 11:00. I boarded my train around that time and was able to get into Helsingør, Denmark, just before noon.
Helsingør is best remembered as the setting for William Shakespeare's play "Hamlet", although in his work, he refers to the place as Elsinore. The Kronborg castle in Helsingør is the inspiration for the setting of the play. Just in front of the Helsingør train station are two statues depicting Hamlet and Ophelia. I slowly made my way from the train station to the castle, which was visible from the station. When I arrived, I was able to confirm that the visit of the castle was free with my Copenhagen card. I made my way past the gift shop, with its multitude of Shakespearian souvenirs, and began my visit of the royal apartments. It is here that I learned that the original castle was built in the 15th century, to defend Denmark from the frequent Swedish attacks. Helsingør became a major player in the Baltic area, and all of the foreign ships that passed through the Øresund strait had to pay for their passage, thus enriching the Danish state.
The royal apartments consisted of several huge rooms, including the reception room, the king and queen's bed chambers, the ball room, and the latrines. Helsingør remained a Danish possession for much of its existence, although the Swedes did manage to take it in the 1600s and held it for two years before departing, taking a huge plunder with them, including the massive sculpture that once adorned the fountain in the courtyard. In the 19th century, the castle was transferred into a military barracks, and served this purpose until well into the 20th century. From 1940 to 1945, during the Nazi occupation, the Germans held Kronborg and used it as a military base to control the entrance to the Baltic Sea.
After having toured the royal apartments, I got to the entrance of the underground casements at 1:00 p.m., just in time to begin a guided tour. Our guide was a young woman with a think Danish accent. She began the tour by telling us the legend of the Danish king who sleeps in the casements, under the castle, and whose likeness a large statue depicts. Legend has it that the king is merely sleeping, but when he wakes again, there will be a terrible war with torrents of blood. From the statue, we made our descent into the casements proper. There was very little lighting here, and our guide had her flashlight with her to guide us into the inner depths of the casements. The air was cold and damp here, a mere 6C, and in the dim light we could see our breath. Our guide told us there is evidence there once was a prison here, and when the casements served as training quarters for the military, soldiers were routinely beaten. I took several photographs of the casements with my camera set at night time. I took pictures of the gloomy, unlit rooms, perhaps inspired by the television show "Ghost Adventures". I have not heard of any tales that the castle is haunted (although the ghost of Hamlet's murdered father does appear in the play), but when I looked at the photographs I had taken, I was really surprised to see that in nearly all of the shots, there are glowing orbs of light, just like in that television show. And even more startling is one shot I took of what was a completely dark underground room: on my photograph, at least in my eye, there appears to be a partial apparition of a human face on two adjacent walls. I see the right-hand side of a face on the wall, complete with hairline, eyebrow, eye and bridge of a nose. The left hand side of the face is missing, but on the right of this mysterious face, I spot a left eye. I cannot wait to show this photograph to friends.
We emerged from the casements, and our guide told us she was next going to give a tour of the royal apartments. As I had just seen them, I left the tour then and made my way to tour the castle chapel. I have to say that my visit to the Kronborg castle exceeded all of my expectations, and I cannot wait to read "Hamlet" again. I bought two post cards and stamps at the gift shop so that I can send them to my parents and to my friend Martin.
I returned to the train station around 2:30 p.m. I could have stayed longer in Helsingør, but I wanted to give myself plenty of time to visit the other sights on my trip around the Øresund strait. I mailed my postcards at the train station, and promptly found my way to the adjoining ferry terminal. The ferry links Helsingør, Denmark to Helsingborg, Sweden, and runs a few times an hour. A single trip is only 25 DKK (about 5 dollars Canadian), and the trip to and from is only 55 DKK (about 11 dollars). My way was of course included in my round-trip ticket.
On the ferry, I took out my ticket and presented it at the small cafe onboard. It entitled me to a 20% discount on a shrimp smørrebrød (open faced sandwich) and a beverage of my choice. I got the fantastic sandwich and an alcohol-free Carlsberg beer. I just had time to have my meal when they announced over the loud speaker that we would be arriving shortly. It isn't any wonder, because the strait is very narrow, we can clearly see the landscape across the water, and passage is a mere 20 minutes by ferry.
I got off the ferry and made my way to the tourist information centre. It was already 3:15 p.m. by then, and I wanted to make sure that I could see something of the city before boarding my train to Malmö. I spoke in Swedish with the attendant, and she provided me with a map of the city, and suggested I visit he church of Sankta Maria, originally built in the 1400s as a Roman Catholic Church, and then converted to a Lutheran church during the Reformation a century later. The very first song I heard after my visit of the Kronborg castle was here in Helsingborg, and it was "Tubular Bells", from "The Exorcist", which played loudly at an outdoor cafe as I passed by. I have to say it kind of creeped me out...
After seeing the Sankta Maria church, I made my way to the Kärnan, a large fortification set on a promontory, from which we have a great view of the city and the Danish coast across the strait. I stuck mainly to the area around Stortorget, Norra Storgatan and Södra Storgatan, and was rewarded with picturesque views of the very old houses along these streets. I tried unsuccessfully to get a soft ice cream cone, because I couldn't use my card at the stand and I wasn't carrying any Swedish currency. Just then, I remembered that when I registered my cards, I hadn't told them I was thinking of travelling to Sweden on this day, so I called my bank just to alert them to the fact that I had made a quick day-trip to Sweden, just to make sure they wouldn't cancel my cards, thinking they had been stolen.
I found my way to the train station and caught the 4:30 p.m. train to Malmö. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open at that point, what with the lack of sleep I have been getting, so I got my iPod out on the train and listened to the only Danish music I knew I had on there: "Roses Are Red" by Aqua. I also listened to some more Swedish music. Our train arrived in Malmö around 5:00 p.m. I was greeted at the train station by loud music, lots of posters for Eurovision, and fans from the different countries that are competing in the song competition this year, all dressed up in wacky clothes. Three Danish fans were dressed in Viking clothes, draped in the Danish flag. It was a little surreal and fun.
I was directed to the Folkets Park on Amiralsgatan, in the heart of Malmö. It is here that a large screen television had been set up in the theater to allow patrons to watch the first semi-finals tonight of the Eurovision Song Contest. In the meantime, I went out in search of Swedish food. But once again, without knowing the city, I despaired at finding any authentic Swedish food, and after about an hour's fruitless search, I settled on Cuban food on the grounds of the Folkets Park. The empanada I had was perfect, but it came served with a heaping mound of salad, the one food I am not tempted to have at all when I am not dieting. I made a valiant effort to eat some of the salad, but most of it remained untouched on my plate. Once again, the Swedish cost of living was hammered home to me: one Coca-Cola and the empanada and salad, roughly 25 dollars Canadian.
It was fun being in a traditional Folkets Park. In the late 60s and early 70s, all Swedish musical acts, including the Hep Stars, the Hotenanny Singers and even ABBA, toured and played these small park venues. I got a feel for what this was like. The small stage show that was set up in the Folkets Park here was intended to be entertainment before the live, sold-out show from the Malmö stadium was broadcast on the large screen. I managed to have that soft ice cream for dessert.
I entered the main pavilion, housed in a Moroccan-inspired building, and took advantage of their free wi-fi to check my Facebook account and text messages. And shortly before 9:00 p.m., I confirmed that there was no charge for the large screen show, and entered the theatre. It was packed with fans from the various countries that are competing in this year's contest. They all had their country's flags, and came prepared to cheer for their home country. The show started with Swedish singer Loreen, who sang last year's winning song, "Euphoria". Because Sweden won last year, they earned the right to host this year's contest, hence Malmö being the host city. Tonight's competition is the first semi-final, where 16 competing artists from the first 16 countries are competing for the 10 available slots. Later this week, the rest of the countries will compete for the last available slots, and at the finale, those who have made it that far will compete for the title of the winner of the 2013 Eurovision song contest. I stayed for all 16 performances, and I believe that of the 16, Denmark made the most lasting impression for me. I think they have a solid chance this year.
I left the Folkets Park around 10:00 p.m., and made my way unsurely to the train station to the north of the city. I got there just as the next train to Copenhagen was set to leave around 11:00, so I hopped on and got safely back to Denmark around a half-hour later. It was another half-hour until the bus dropped me off at my lodgings. I was totally exhausted from my travels today, but really enjoyed myself.
A quick note before I end this post: Copenhagen is really well laid out, with separate lanes for motorists, for bicyclers and for pedestrians. I think Ottawa could learn a lesson or two from the Danes about urban planning!
Monday, May 13, 2013
Are We Having Fun Yet?
Another first for me today: I fainted. But let's go back a bit to explain the context. The one thing I haven't written in my blog yet is that for the past 4 or 5 days, I have had a pain in the groin. This goes back to the day I wore a new pair of pants that does not seem to fit very well: the seam is very uncomfortable. I had been sitting for long periods of time, either on the plane, or on the train, or on a subway, and the seam just dug into me, or it would suddenly switch and squish me. Long story short, ouch. So, I put those pants at the bottom of my suitcase, and figured it would heal naturally. But after a few days, I started wondering if I had sprained or bruised myself. This morning, in the shower at about 9:00 a.m. (after having first been awakened by glaring sunlight and singing birds at 4:00 a.m.), I gingerly explored the spot where I have soreness and discovered what I thought was a lump, which was very painful. A wave of nausea washed over me suddenly, and I had to exit the shower, take a sip of water from the sink, and sit for a minute. My head and face were fully lathered, so I thought I would rinse off and go lie down for a bit. I must have gotten up too quickly because I saw stars, and heard a whooshing in my ears. I then got the feeling that I was not really awake, but just dreaming all of this, so the last thought I remember having is that it was OK to let go. I must have fallen very daintily, because a very light tap of my head on the tile jarred me awake. I quickly rinsed, hastily wrapped a towel around my waist, and called for Tinna, whom I hoped was still in the house. I emerged from the bathroom and explained to her quickly what had happened. I cannot believe how professional she handled this situation. She told me to lie down in bed for a bit and brought me a glass of water. She returned to my room to tell me she had cancelled her shift at the cafe, called Emil to get his doctor's number, and scheduled an appointment with the doctor for 11:30 a.m. In the meantime, she went to the store and came back with painkillers (she assured me they were very mild, like children's Tylenol) and a couple of croissants. I ate the croissants ravenously because I was very hungry. She asked how I felt and I said I was tired, so I lay back in bed and slept. At 11:00 a.m., she knocked on my door and told me it was time to get to the doctor's.
The doctor works about 5 minutes away from Tinna and Emil's flat. And after having had a wonderful interaction with her, I take back everything I said about Danish rudeness. She had the best bedside manner, and really knew how to assuage my fears. She examined me and then informed me that I had nothing to be concerned about. She said I seem to have a classic bacterial infection of the testicle. She says more than likely I have caught cold or the ill-fitting pants contributed to it. In any case, she prescribed a course of antibiotics for me for ten days (bye-bye drinking). She said that the nausea and the fainting were a natural reaction to not knowing where the pain is coming from, and that now that I know it is benign, I shouldn't be experiencing any of those symptoms again. She said it was a very good thing that I checked with a doctor, because if left untreated, I could have experienced severe pain. So, Tinna then walked with me to the pharmacy (apotek) to get my antibiotics. And she then accompanied me to the debit machine so that I could get cash out to pay the doctor (and then get reimbursed by my insurance when I get back to Canada). It really wasn't too expensive: 300 Danish kroner (roughly 60 dollars). Because all of this walking and waiting in line took some time, Tinna and I really had a long conversation, and I got to know her. (I now regret not having had the opportunity to get to know Jarl in Stockholm). I learned that her father was Thai, but she was born in Iceland, with Icelandic as her mother tongue. At 4, she moved with her family to Sweden, where she learned Swedish and English. She has now been in Denmark for 5 years, and she assures me that after 5 years of learning the language, she still doesn't feel she has mastered it yet because it is so difficult.
Now because the doctor said that I could go anywhere I wanted and that there was nothing to prevent me from doing what I wanted and enjoying my trip, I decided to venture out into the city. I was much relieved and obviously feeling a lot better by then. Tinna accompanied me to the 7-Eleven where I bought myself a few pastries to get my blood sugar up. I thanked her profusely for her extreme consideration, and she assured me she could just imagine how scared she would be to be in a foreign country, not knowing the language, and something like this happening to her. I really want to surprise her with a big bouquet of flowers before I leave here on Wednesday.
I took the bus to the city centre. Since I bought a Copenhagen card, which was a little pricy but provides me with free transportation by train, subway and bus for 72 hours, I figured I should start using it. I got into the city centre about 20 minutes later. The flat Tinna and Emil live in is in the hippest, most vibrant part of the city, in Nørrebrod, and it is rather reminiscent of the Södermalm neighbourhood in Stockholm, except there is a lot more graffiti here, and men seem to have a predisposition to urinate in doorways, in alleys or on the street. Anyway, I got to the city centre about 1:45 p.m., ready to start my day. I began by doing some window shopping in book stores, CD shops, etc. I finally bought gifts for both my friend Martin and my sister. I was hoping to buy myself an English translation of Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, but the book store did not carry "Fear and Trembling". I don't remember if I have already mentioned it (and if so, it bears repeating), but Copenhagen is expensive. The 25% sales tax has everything to do with it! (And as an aside, when I visited the Assistens cemetery, it really made me pause when I discovered that at 42 years 6 months of age, Kierkegaard was a little younger than I am now when he died in the 1850s.)
I really wanted to see the Hans Christian Anderson Eventyrhuset this afternoon. When I got there, I discovered that it was free with my Copenhagen card. It was located next door to the Guinness Book of Records museum. The H. C. Andersen museum was OK, but I know I would have absolutely loved it had I been 8 or 9 years old. The museum started off with an exhibit on the life and times of Hans Christian Andersen, author of countless fairy tales. The second part of the exhibit is actually different fairy tales come to life in clever montages. I guess it was fun to listen to the narration of timeless classics I hadn't heard in a long time, like "The Little Mermaid", "The Little Match Girl", "Thumbelina", "The Steadfast Soldier" and "The Emperor's New Clothes".
I left the museum probably around 2:45, and headed to the 7-Eleven for a light bite to eat (I didn't want to spoil my appetite for dinner). I got what is known here as Little Bites: what looked like three spring rolls, but when I bit into them, I discovered they were actually spicy, cheesy burritos. They were pretty tasty, and I washed them down with Faxe Condi (the Danish equivalent of 7-Up). I then returned to the Tourist Information Centre, where I was served by a very friendly Swede now living in Denmark. We got to speak Swedish again. I told her I was interested in going on a tour of the Kronborg castle in Helsingør, Denmark tomorrow. This is the castle that inspired Shakespeare to set his play Hamlet at Elsinore Castle. Every year, there are performances of Hamlet there in the summer months. And it is listed as a Unesco World Heritage Site. I explained that I was hoping to go to Helsingør direct from Copenhagen, cross the strait from Helsingør into Helsingborg, Sweden on a ferry, then make my way south to Malmö, Sweden, before crossing the bridge back into Copenhagen, Denmark. She informed me that there is such a ticket available, for the ridiculously cheap sum of 200 kroner (40 dollars Canadian). Furthermore, my visit of Kronborg castle is free with my Copenhagen card, and I can stop along the way to explore the Swedish cities of Helsingborg and Malmö, and hop on any train I want to return. (Trains run 24 hours a day, every 20 minutes). I have never been to the west coast of Sweden, and I am really looking forward to this. What is even more special is that tomorrow night, in Malmö, is the start of the Eurovision Song Contest, a hugely popular show in Sweden (and where ABBA got their musical start in 1974). I confessed to the attendant at the tourist information centre that I was not sure I would be 100% able to travel tomorrow, depending on how I feel, but she said that if I decide not to use it and I hang on to the receipt, I can be refunded for the ticket. So, judging that I had nothing to lose, I bought my ticket for tomorrow.
I decided then that because I was going to have to curtail my drinking for ten days, I may as well have one last celebratory drink this afternoon, before I begin my antibiotics tonight. I figured that a drink around 3:30 would be well out of my system by 10:00 p.m. So, I just happened upon the gay district of Copenhagen, and found the Jailhouse bar, a theme bar with bars in the windows and a particular atmosphere. I ordered a Carlsberg from the waiter, yet another Swede I spoke to in Swedish. The thing about bars in Denmark is that they are still smoking, although all restaurants have gone non-smoking. So, I have to say I did not stay long, but I know some friends of mine would have been happy to be able to smoke while drinking. I'm just not one of them.
This brought me to thoughts about dinner. Once again, I really wanted to sample some more traditional Danish cuisine, so I went to a restaurant near the Town Hall, which is reputed to have some of the best home-made dishes in the city. The waiter recommended that I get the traditional Christmas dinner in Denmark: Flækesteg med rødkål, hvide kartofler og brun sovs (Slices of roast pork, served with red cabbage, boiled potatoes and gravy). The portion was a tad bit disappointing, but the taste was exceptional. For dessert, I got the Gammeldaws æblekage med sukkerrasp og flødeskum (Danish style applecake served with whipped cream). Oh my God! Was this EVER sweet. I was reminded of that fabulous quote from Dorothy on "The Golden Girls": "Rose, if God had wanted Man to eat like this, he would have handed him his teeth in a baggy". It consisted of apple sauce, topped with whipped cream, and not much "cake" to speak of. When I told Emil tonight that I had had this and I thought it was a bit too sweet, he said his grandmother used to make it, and as a child he would marvel at the voluminous quantity of sugar that went into it. Let's just say I'm glad I got tested for diabetes before my trip...
That's mostly it for this eventful, and slightly scary day. I made sure to call my mom to make sure she understood that I am doing fine, despite what I was about to write on my blog. The only other thing I should mention is that I dropped my purchases and stuff at the house and went back out for a while to further explore the city. I made sure to write up all of my day's adventures as soon as I came back. Good night all!
The doctor works about 5 minutes away from Tinna and Emil's flat. And after having had a wonderful interaction with her, I take back everything I said about Danish rudeness. She had the best bedside manner, and really knew how to assuage my fears. She examined me and then informed me that I had nothing to be concerned about. She said I seem to have a classic bacterial infection of the testicle. She says more than likely I have caught cold or the ill-fitting pants contributed to it. In any case, she prescribed a course of antibiotics for me for ten days (bye-bye drinking). She said that the nausea and the fainting were a natural reaction to not knowing where the pain is coming from, and that now that I know it is benign, I shouldn't be experiencing any of those symptoms again. She said it was a very good thing that I checked with a doctor, because if left untreated, I could have experienced severe pain. So, Tinna then walked with me to the pharmacy (apotek) to get my antibiotics. And she then accompanied me to the debit machine so that I could get cash out to pay the doctor (and then get reimbursed by my insurance when I get back to Canada). It really wasn't too expensive: 300 Danish kroner (roughly 60 dollars). Because all of this walking and waiting in line took some time, Tinna and I really had a long conversation, and I got to know her. (I now regret not having had the opportunity to get to know Jarl in Stockholm). I learned that her father was Thai, but she was born in Iceland, with Icelandic as her mother tongue. At 4, she moved with her family to Sweden, where she learned Swedish and English. She has now been in Denmark for 5 years, and she assures me that after 5 years of learning the language, she still doesn't feel she has mastered it yet because it is so difficult.
Now because the doctor said that I could go anywhere I wanted and that there was nothing to prevent me from doing what I wanted and enjoying my trip, I decided to venture out into the city. I was much relieved and obviously feeling a lot better by then. Tinna accompanied me to the 7-Eleven where I bought myself a few pastries to get my blood sugar up. I thanked her profusely for her extreme consideration, and she assured me she could just imagine how scared she would be to be in a foreign country, not knowing the language, and something like this happening to her. I really want to surprise her with a big bouquet of flowers before I leave here on Wednesday.
I took the bus to the city centre. Since I bought a Copenhagen card, which was a little pricy but provides me with free transportation by train, subway and bus for 72 hours, I figured I should start using it. I got into the city centre about 20 minutes later. The flat Tinna and Emil live in is in the hippest, most vibrant part of the city, in Nørrebrod, and it is rather reminiscent of the Södermalm neighbourhood in Stockholm, except there is a lot more graffiti here, and men seem to have a predisposition to urinate in doorways, in alleys or on the street. Anyway, I got to the city centre about 1:45 p.m., ready to start my day. I began by doing some window shopping in book stores, CD shops, etc. I finally bought gifts for both my friend Martin and my sister. I was hoping to buy myself an English translation of Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, but the book store did not carry "Fear and Trembling". I don't remember if I have already mentioned it (and if so, it bears repeating), but Copenhagen is expensive. The 25% sales tax has everything to do with it! (And as an aside, when I visited the Assistens cemetery, it really made me pause when I discovered that at 42 years 6 months of age, Kierkegaard was a little younger than I am now when he died in the 1850s.)
I really wanted to see the Hans Christian Anderson Eventyrhuset this afternoon. When I got there, I discovered that it was free with my Copenhagen card. It was located next door to the Guinness Book of Records museum. The H. C. Andersen museum was OK, but I know I would have absolutely loved it had I been 8 or 9 years old. The museum started off with an exhibit on the life and times of Hans Christian Andersen, author of countless fairy tales. The second part of the exhibit is actually different fairy tales come to life in clever montages. I guess it was fun to listen to the narration of timeless classics I hadn't heard in a long time, like "The Little Mermaid", "The Little Match Girl", "Thumbelina", "The Steadfast Soldier" and "The Emperor's New Clothes".
I left the museum probably around 2:45, and headed to the 7-Eleven for a light bite to eat (I didn't want to spoil my appetite for dinner). I got what is known here as Little Bites: what looked like three spring rolls, but when I bit into them, I discovered they were actually spicy, cheesy burritos. They were pretty tasty, and I washed them down with Faxe Condi (the Danish equivalent of 7-Up). I then returned to the Tourist Information Centre, where I was served by a very friendly Swede now living in Denmark. We got to speak Swedish again. I told her I was interested in going on a tour of the Kronborg castle in Helsingør, Denmark tomorrow. This is the castle that inspired Shakespeare to set his play Hamlet at Elsinore Castle. Every year, there are performances of Hamlet there in the summer months. And it is listed as a Unesco World Heritage Site. I explained that I was hoping to go to Helsingør direct from Copenhagen, cross the strait from Helsingør into Helsingborg, Sweden on a ferry, then make my way south to Malmö, Sweden, before crossing the bridge back into Copenhagen, Denmark. She informed me that there is such a ticket available, for the ridiculously cheap sum of 200 kroner (40 dollars Canadian). Furthermore, my visit of Kronborg castle is free with my Copenhagen card, and I can stop along the way to explore the Swedish cities of Helsingborg and Malmö, and hop on any train I want to return. (Trains run 24 hours a day, every 20 minutes). I have never been to the west coast of Sweden, and I am really looking forward to this. What is even more special is that tomorrow night, in Malmö, is the start of the Eurovision Song Contest, a hugely popular show in Sweden (and where ABBA got their musical start in 1974). I confessed to the attendant at the tourist information centre that I was not sure I would be 100% able to travel tomorrow, depending on how I feel, but she said that if I decide not to use it and I hang on to the receipt, I can be refunded for the ticket. So, judging that I had nothing to lose, I bought my ticket for tomorrow.
I decided then that because I was going to have to curtail my drinking for ten days, I may as well have one last celebratory drink this afternoon, before I begin my antibiotics tonight. I figured that a drink around 3:30 would be well out of my system by 10:00 p.m. So, I just happened upon the gay district of Copenhagen, and found the Jailhouse bar, a theme bar with bars in the windows and a particular atmosphere. I ordered a Carlsberg from the waiter, yet another Swede I spoke to in Swedish. The thing about bars in Denmark is that they are still smoking, although all restaurants have gone non-smoking. So, I have to say I did not stay long, but I know some friends of mine would have been happy to be able to smoke while drinking. I'm just not one of them.
This brought me to thoughts about dinner. Once again, I really wanted to sample some more traditional Danish cuisine, so I went to a restaurant near the Town Hall, which is reputed to have some of the best home-made dishes in the city. The waiter recommended that I get the traditional Christmas dinner in Denmark: Flækesteg med rødkål, hvide kartofler og brun sovs (Slices of roast pork, served with red cabbage, boiled potatoes and gravy). The portion was a tad bit disappointing, but the taste was exceptional. For dessert, I got the Gammeldaws æblekage med sukkerrasp og flødeskum (Danish style applecake served with whipped cream). Oh my God! Was this EVER sweet. I was reminded of that fabulous quote from Dorothy on "The Golden Girls": "Rose, if God had wanted Man to eat like this, he would have handed him his teeth in a baggy". It consisted of apple sauce, topped with whipped cream, and not much "cake" to speak of. When I told Emil tonight that I had had this and I thought it was a bit too sweet, he said his grandmother used to make it, and as a child he would marvel at the voluminous quantity of sugar that went into it. Let's just say I'm glad I got tested for diabetes before my trip...
That's mostly it for this eventful, and slightly scary day. I made sure to call my mom to make sure she understood that I am doing fine, despite what I was about to write on my blog. The only other thing I should mention is that I dropped my purchases and stuff at the house and went back out for a while to further explore the city. I made sure to write up all of my day's adventures as soon as I came back. Good night all!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
From Irritation to Relaxation in København (Copenhagen)
There. Yesterday's blog is now up to date.
I woke up at 4:00 a.m. this morning, because the sun was shining. I turned around and tossed and turned until I finally fell asleep again. When I awoke, it was 9:30! I was the first to get up, so I showered, got dressed and got ready for my day. I made my way on foot to the city centre, probably about an half hour walk. Along the way, I had a banana, a bottle of water and a couple of croissants. I was able to take the hop-on-hop-off bus at about 11:45. It was actually a combination ticket, combining the bus tour, and the boat tour. The bus portion was really interesting. We saw the world famous sculpture of Hans Kristian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid" in the harbour. We also saw some royal castles. And I was genuinely surprised to learn that the museum which told the story of the Nazi occupation of Denmark from 1940 to 1945 burned down to the ground about 2 weeks ago, just as I was starting my trip! And on my bus tour, I learned that Danish people are among the heaviest smokers in the world: about 25% of the population smokes, more than in many, many countries. And interestingly enough, I also learned that if we include the Danish-owned autonomous regions of the Faroe islands and Greenland, Denmark is the second largest country in the world.
I got off the bus around 1:30, and I figured it was time for lunch. I remembered that all of the guide books on Denmark insist that a particularly traditional delicacy in Denmark is... a hotdog. So, I went to a small restaurant, and had their traditional Danish gourmet hotdog. I also got a Carlsberg beer to go with it. And for dessert, I thought: since I'm in Denmark, I have to have a Danish danish. So that's what I had, although here they call them viennebrød. I chose the raspberry one and it was delicious.
After lunch, I stopped off at the tourist information centre, and got some information on various sites I would like to see. I do not want to generalize, but it seems to me that my few contacts with Danish people have tended to bring out their rudeness. Of the various cultures I have met with on my travels so far, the Danes seem to be the rudest, but it just may be that I picked the wrong people to chat with. Fortunately, Emil and Tinna are an adorable couple. He is from Denmark, she is from Iceland, and they have a genuine joie de vivre.
After my visit to the information office, I hopped onto the bus again, in the hopes of reaching the point of departure for the hop-on-hop-off boat. This is where things got really frustrating for me. The first bus driver told us that if we wanted to catch the boat, we would have to switch over to the shuttle bus, which is what I did. I actually double checked with him and asked explicitly for the hop-on-hop-off boat. Instead, after about a 10-minute drive, I realize I have boarded the shuttle bus to a cruise ship. The driver apologized and said he could drive me back downtown. When I got there, I had to wait for the next hop-on-hop-off bus to come. About 20 minutes later, it arrives. I explain that I want to go to the location where the hop-on-hop-off boat departs for the canal cruise. So, when we get to the harbour, he says that that is where I should go. I make my way to the harbourfront, and there is no indication that there is even a pier here. I look at my map, and sure enough, this place isn't a designated embarkation point. So I make my way on foot to a place that is marked as a point of departure. The posted sign says that the next boat will come by at 4:40 p.m. I wait for close to 30 minutes, until about 4:55, when I realize there is no boat coming. So I speak with the next bus driver about this, and this one, who is really friendly (and it turns out that he is a Swede who lives just across the strait in Malmö, Sweden), says that he can't believe I was directed to this harbour front, where the boats seldom stop. So, he tells me to hop onboard his bus, and he will take me to Nyhav, where the boats depart. At this point, I was concerned that I might be too late for the last boat of the day. But he reassured me that there was still time. So finally, after all of this irritating running around, I got onboard the boat, and the gentle, rocking motion of the sea calmed my nerves, and I was able to enjoy the 90-minute tour of the harbour. It was very cold on the water, just like when I was in Helsinki, and I was glad I had my jacket. They were forecasting a high of only 13C today, so I never expected in a million years that I would get a slight sun burn on my face and scalp. Nothing too bad, but a little worse than a tan. Oh well, live and learn.
After the boat trip, I started to hunt for a place for dinner. The unfriendly tourist information attendant told me earlier that if I wanted to have authentic Danish food, I should have it in the area I happened to be in just then, near the new harbour. So, I set out along the quay, looking at the overpriced menus for tourists. Now I figured that since I have been getting by on croissants and hotdogs or pastries, I could splurge a little tonight, which is what I did. I stopped at a restaurant and ordered Aalborg Dild Akvavit (a dill-flavoured aquavit-type shooter), a Tuborg lager and the smørrebrøds tallerken (Danish open-faced sandwiches). There were three on my plate: the Lun fiskefilet (Fried fish), the Roast beef, and the Æg med rejar (egg and shrimps). This meal was absolutely exquisite. The egg and shimps was garnished with black caviar. I think I am developing a very expensive habit...
For dessert, I had home-made gelato in a cone (one scoop strawberry, one scoop chocolat banana). I then made my way on foot to the bus stop where I caught the bus to Emil and Tinna's place last night. They were able to lend me their computer, so I have now managed to bring my blog up-to-date. Now, I think I will read a little before going to bed. Good night, everyone!
I woke up at 4:00 a.m. this morning, because the sun was shining. I turned around and tossed and turned until I finally fell asleep again. When I awoke, it was 9:30! I was the first to get up, so I showered, got dressed and got ready for my day. I made my way on foot to the city centre, probably about an half hour walk. Along the way, I had a banana, a bottle of water and a couple of croissants. I was able to take the hop-on-hop-off bus at about 11:45. It was actually a combination ticket, combining the bus tour, and the boat tour. The bus portion was really interesting. We saw the world famous sculpture of Hans Kristian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid" in the harbour. We also saw some royal castles. And I was genuinely surprised to learn that the museum which told the story of the Nazi occupation of Denmark from 1940 to 1945 burned down to the ground about 2 weeks ago, just as I was starting my trip! And on my bus tour, I learned that Danish people are among the heaviest smokers in the world: about 25% of the population smokes, more than in many, many countries. And interestingly enough, I also learned that if we include the Danish-owned autonomous regions of the Faroe islands and Greenland, Denmark is the second largest country in the world.
I got off the bus around 1:30, and I figured it was time for lunch. I remembered that all of the guide books on Denmark insist that a particularly traditional delicacy in Denmark is... a hotdog. So, I went to a small restaurant, and had their traditional Danish gourmet hotdog. I also got a Carlsberg beer to go with it. And for dessert, I thought: since I'm in Denmark, I have to have a Danish danish. So that's what I had, although here they call them viennebrød. I chose the raspberry one and it was delicious.
After lunch, I stopped off at the tourist information centre, and got some information on various sites I would like to see. I do not want to generalize, but it seems to me that my few contacts with Danish people have tended to bring out their rudeness. Of the various cultures I have met with on my travels so far, the Danes seem to be the rudest, but it just may be that I picked the wrong people to chat with. Fortunately, Emil and Tinna are an adorable couple. He is from Denmark, she is from Iceland, and they have a genuine joie de vivre.
After my visit to the information office, I hopped onto the bus again, in the hopes of reaching the point of departure for the hop-on-hop-off boat. This is where things got really frustrating for me. The first bus driver told us that if we wanted to catch the boat, we would have to switch over to the shuttle bus, which is what I did. I actually double checked with him and asked explicitly for the hop-on-hop-off boat. Instead, after about a 10-minute drive, I realize I have boarded the shuttle bus to a cruise ship. The driver apologized and said he could drive me back downtown. When I got there, I had to wait for the next hop-on-hop-off bus to come. About 20 minutes later, it arrives. I explain that I want to go to the location where the hop-on-hop-off boat departs for the canal cruise. So, when we get to the harbour, he says that that is where I should go. I make my way to the harbourfront, and there is no indication that there is even a pier here. I look at my map, and sure enough, this place isn't a designated embarkation point. So I make my way on foot to a place that is marked as a point of departure. The posted sign says that the next boat will come by at 4:40 p.m. I wait for close to 30 minutes, until about 4:55, when I realize there is no boat coming. So I speak with the next bus driver about this, and this one, who is really friendly (and it turns out that he is a Swede who lives just across the strait in Malmö, Sweden), says that he can't believe I was directed to this harbour front, where the boats seldom stop. So, he tells me to hop onboard his bus, and he will take me to Nyhav, where the boats depart. At this point, I was concerned that I might be too late for the last boat of the day. But he reassured me that there was still time. So finally, after all of this irritating running around, I got onboard the boat, and the gentle, rocking motion of the sea calmed my nerves, and I was able to enjoy the 90-minute tour of the harbour. It was very cold on the water, just like when I was in Helsinki, and I was glad I had my jacket. They were forecasting a high of only 13C today, so I never expected in a million years that I would get a slight sun burn on my face and scalp. Nothing too bad, but a little worse than a tan. Oh well, live and learn.
After the boat trip, I started to hunt for a place for dinner. The unfriendly tourist information attendant told me earlier that if I wanted to have authentic Danish food, I should have it in the area I happened to be in just then, near the new harbour. So, I set out along the quay, looking at the overpriced menus for tourists. Now I figured that since I have been getting by on croissants and hotdogs or pastries, I could splurge a little tonight, which is what I did. I stopped at a restaurant and ordered Aalborg Dild Akvavit (a dill-flavoured aquavit-type shooter), a Tuborg lager and the smørrebrøds tallerken (Danish open-faced sandwiches). There were three on my plate: the Lun fiskefilet (Fried fish), the Roast beef, and the Æg med rejar (egg and shrimps). This meal was absolutely exquisite. The egg and shimps was garnished with black caviar. I think I am developing a very expensive habit...
For dessert, I had home-made gelato in a cone (one scoop strawberry, one scoop chocolat banana). I then made my way on foot to the bus stop where I caught the bus to Emil and Tinna's place last night. They were able to lend me their computer, so I have now managed to bring my blog up-to-date. Now, I think I will read a little before going to bed. Good night, everyone!
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Good bye Stockholm, Hello Copenhagen
After I left off last night, I turned on my iPhone and saw that Hans had invited me over to his house for Thai food, along with Jens and Reinhold. Because the invitation was for 6:30, and it was just 5:00, I started off by returning to Jarl's house to drop off my purchases, and then made my way by subway and by bus to Sodermalm. I got there about 15 minutes late, but the guys were patiently waiting for me at the bus stop. We got our Thai to go from a combination pizza and Thai place, and Hans gratiously paid for my meal. After dinner on Hans's patio terrasse it got noticeably cooler, so we moved inside, where Hans put on some French Canadian music, in my honour. He played his Natasha St-Pierre CD, an artist who just happens to have been born on Bathurst. Hans told me that he started listening to the CD of Acadian music I burned for him, and that he really enjoys it. I mentioned that I was still trying to learn Swedish, so Jens started pointed at things around him and naming them in Swedish. He pointed to a knife (kniv), a table (bord), a chair (stol) and Hans (bog, meaning "fag"). Hans playfully hit him on the shoulder.
Around 9:00 p.m., Reinhold suggested we call it a night, so I hugged Hans, and took the subway with Reinhold and Jens. We hugged and parted at the Slussen subway station, and told each other how happy we were to have met. The guys want me to come back again soon, for a longer period, and to celebrate Midsommar with them. I think I'll start saving my loonies and twoonies again.
I was awakened by a barking and crying dog this morning at 7:00 a.m. and got my iPhone out to surf the web and play games. I was in no real rush on this last morning in Sweden. I got ready and left the house around 10:00 to get my customary lemon muffin and water. My plan today was to have lunch at Ostermalms Saluhall, but I needed a bite to eat before heading over. I took the subway to the food halls and marvelled at the sights and smells. The lobster was particularly expensive, at 700SEK a kilo (more than 100 dollars Canadian). I had gone there to have kroppkakor, the Swedish version of poutines râpées, but when I got there, I discovered they had a dish I was hoping to try in Stockholm, Janssons Frestelse. So, I asked the attendant (in Swedish), if I could have a kroppkaka, and a half portion of the frestelse. I was thus able to have both. The frestelse, a dish consisting of shredded potatoes, cream, and anchovies, was absolutely delicious. Because these dishes were served to go, I had my lunch on a park bench facing a small church, exactly where I had kroppkakor the last time I was in Sweden three years ago. As I was eating, a lady came up to me and asked in Swedish if my meal was good. I said it was, She sat on the bench next to mine and we started talking. She used to be a Swedish-language teacher, but at 71, she is retired now. She lit a cigarette and we continued chatting. It was so nice to have a conversation with someone spontaneously. She was really nice. After finishing my lunch, I told her I had a flight to catch, so I thanked her for the conversation, and left the churchyard.
I returned to Jarl's house to collect my things, greeted his next house guest who arrived just as I was leaving (a young lady from Italy), and made my way on foot to the subway station. At Centralen, I chose to pay the 240SEK (40 dollars) to take the Arlanda Express, the quickest way to get to the airport. After 20 minutes, I was there and checking in. I used wi-fi at the airport and read an issue of the Swedish newspaper Aftonbladet on the plane. I also snoozed a bit, then picked up the Benny Andersson biography I have been reading. After only about an hour's flight, we arrived in Copenhagen.
As usual, it was a little chaotic at the airport, collecting my luggage at the carrousel (and worrying that it might not show up...), then trying to find my way to the city centre. As I entered the airport, I was greeted by hundreds of Danes waving Danish flags. It turns out they were at the airport to greet some competitors in the Eurovision Song Contest, which is slated to be held next Tuesday, just across the strait from Copenhagen, in Malmö, Sweden. I took the subway, which would lead me to the city centre. At one point, the subway stopped at a station and a large group of young revelers got onboard, dancing and drinking. Whenever the subway stopped, it would shake from all the dancing going on. "No habla americano" was the song they were playing.
I followed the directions Emil and Tinna had given me to get to their house, but it was fairly complicated. After the subway, I had to find a bus. To get the correct change for the bus, I went to the little cafe at the bus station and bought a delicious donut with pink icing, just like in the Simpsons. I got to the house after a long, trying journey, just around 7:00 p.m. I rang the buzzer repeatedly, but no one answered. I tried using my phone, but without an Internet connection, I couldn't get it to work. So I went around the corner to the 7-Eleven and asked the clerk to ring them for me. It turns out they were just visiting their neighbour. Tinna sent me a text message to let me know, but because I couldn't use my phone, I did not get it.
So Emil and Tinna showed me my room. It is nice and spacious. It is a relief to finally be settled in for my stay here in Copenhagen. After having dropped off my things, I wanted to head out. It was 8:00 p.m., and I had not yet had dinner. I was in the mood for something typically Danish, so I started making my way on foot towards the city centre. On my way, I stopped at the Assistens cemetery, a short walk from Emil and Tinna's. I was hence able to visit and to take pictures of the grave stones of Hans Kristian Andersen and Søren Kierkegaard. As I walked downtown, I realized that I can actually read and understand a lot of Danish. It looks just like badly written Swedish. For instance, at one point I read the Danish phrase for "and many, many others", which in Danish is "og mange, mange andre", whereas in Swedish it is "och manga, manga andra". So I can actually get by reading street signs and menus. But, as Hans had pointed out, it is impossible to understand anything when the Danes speak because the pronunciation is totally different from Swedish. Even Hans doesn't understand spoken Danish. I would have been curious to travel to Norway, though, because Norwegian and Swedish are so similar, people can communicate with each other even if they speak different languages.
I tried in vain to find a traditional Danish restauranmt, and after about an hour of walking around in the city, I gave up and ate at McDonald's. I was tired, and it was after 9:00 p.m. And all I could find were Italian, Greek, Chinese and Lebanese restaurants! When I got back to Tinna and Emil's, they lent me their computer so that I could write in my blog. But I took so long looking at my Facebook page, that by the time I was ready to blog, they wanted to computer back to watch a movie. So, I blogged a little bit on my iPhone, which was not as easy as it sounds. I went to bed shortly thereafter. And boy, am I glad I brought a jacket, because after my stay in Sweden, looks like I will be wearing a jacket again when I go out because it is so cool, just like in Helsinki.
Around 9:00 p.m., Reinhold suggested we call it a night, so I hugged Hans, and took the subway with Reinhold and Jens. We hugged and parted at the Slussen subway station, and told each other how happy we were to have met. The guys want me to come back again soon, for a longer period, and to celebrate Midsommar with them. I think I'll start saving my loonies and twoonies again.
I was awakened by a barking and crying dog this morning at 7:00 a.m. and got my iPhone out to surf the web and play games. I was in no real rush on this last morning in Sweden. I got ready and left the house around 10:00 to get my customary lemon muffin and water. My plan today was to have lunch at Ostermalms Saluhall, but I needed a bite to eat before heading over. I took the subway to the food halls and marvelled at the sights and smells. The lobster was particularly expensive, at 700SEK a kilo (more than 100 dollars Canadian). I had gone there to have kroppkakor, the Swedish version of poutines râpées, but when I got there, I discovered they had a dish I was hoping to try in Stockholm, Janssons Frestelse. So, I asked the attendant (in Swedish), if I could have a kroppkaka, and a half portion of the frestelse. I was thus able to have both. The frestelse, a dish consisting of shredded potatoes, cream, and anchovies, was absolutely delicious. Because these dishes were served to go, I had my lunch on a park bench facing a small church, exactly where I had kroppkakor the last time I was in Sweden three years ago. As I was eating, a lady came up to me and asked in Swedish if my meal was good. I said it was, She sat on the bench next to mine and we started talking. She used to be a Swedish-language teacher, but at 71, she is retired now. She lit a cigarette and we continued chatting. It was so nice to have a conversation with someone spontaneously. She was really nice. After finishing my lunch, I told her I had a flight to catch, so I thanked her for the conversation, and left the churchyard.
I returned to Jarl's house to collect my things, greeted his next house guest who arrived just as I was leaving (a young lady from Italy), and made my way on foot to the subway station. At Centralen, I chose to pay the 240SEK (40 dollars) to take the Arlanda Express, the quickest way to get to the airport. After 20 minutes, I was there and checking in. I used wi-fi at the airport and read an issue of the Swedish newspaper Aftonbladet on the plane. I also snoozed a bit, then picked up the Benny Andersson biography I have been reading. After only about an hour's flight, we arrived in Copenhagen.
As usual, it was a little chaotic at the airport, collecting my luggage at the carrousel (and worrying that it might not show up...), then trying to find my way to the city centre. As I entered the airport, I was greeted by hundreds of Danes waving Danish flags. It turns out they were at the airport to greet some competitors in the Eurovision Song Contest, which is slated to be held next Tuesday, just across the strait from Copenhagen, in Malmö, Sweden. I took the subway, which would lead me to the city centre. At one point, the subway stopped at a station and a large group of young revelers got onboard, dancing and drinking. Whenever the subway stopped, it would shake from all the dancing going on. "No habla americano" was the song they were playing.
I followed the directions Emil and Tinna had given me to get to their house, but it was fairly complicated. After the subway, I had to find a bus. To get the correct change for the bus, I went to the little cafe at the bus station and bought a delicious donut with pink icing, just like in the Simpsons. I got to the house after a long, trying journey, just around 7:00 p.m. I rang the buzzer repeatedly, but no one answered. I tried using my phone, but without an Internet connection, I couldn't get it to work. So I went around the corner to the 7-Eleven and asked the clerk to ring them for me. It turns out they were just visiting their neighbour. Tinna sent me a text message to let me know, but because I couldn't use my phone, I did not get it.
So Emil and Tinna showed me my room. It is nice and spacious. It is a relief to finally be settled in for my stay here in Copenhagen. After having dropped off my things, I wanted to head out. It was 8:00 p.m., and I had not yet had dinner. I was in the mood for something typically Danish, so I started making my way on foot towards the city centre. On my way, I stopped at the Assistens cemetery, a short walk from Emil and Tinna's. I was hence able to visit and to take pictures of the grave stones of Hans Kristian Andersen and Søren Kierkegaard. As I walked downtown, I realized that I can actually read and understand a lot of Danish. It looks just like badly written Swedish. For instance, at one point I read the Danish phrase for "and many, many others", which in Danish is "og mange, mange andre", whereas in Swedish it is "och manga, manga andra". So I can actually get by reading street signs and menus. But, as Hans had pointed out, it is impossible to understand anything when the Danes speak because the pronunciation is totally different from Swedish. Even Hans doesn't understand spoken Danish. I would have been curious to travel to Norway, though, because Norwegian and Swedish are so similar, people can communicate with each other even if they speak different languages.
I tried in vain to find a traditional Danish restauranmt, and after about an hour of walking around in the city, I gave up and ate at McDonald's. I was tired, and it was after 9:00 p.m. And all I could find were Italian, Greek, Chinese and Lebanese restaurants! When I got back to Tinna and Emil's, they lent me their computer so that I could write in my blog. But I took so long looking at my Facebook page, that by the time I was ready to blog, they wanted to computer back to watch a movie. So, I blogged a little bit on my iPhone, which was not as easy as it sounds. I went to bed shortly thereafter. And boy, am I glad I brought a jacket, because after my stay in Sweden, looks like I will be wearing a jacket again when I go out because it is so cool, just like in Helsinki.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Vodka and Royals and Cinnamon Buns... Oh, My!
So when I got to my lodgings last night, I was able to look at my text messages, thanks to the free wi-fi at Jarl's house, and discovered that Jarl had left me a message to say that he would not be in that night. So I guess I had the place to myself and just went to bed.
This morning, I awoke at 8:00 a.m., ready to face my final full day here in Stockholm. It really is sad, but I was resolved to enjoy my day. I got ready, stopped at the 7-Eleven for a lemon muffin and a bottle of water, and headed off on foot towards Djurgården. It had suddenly occurred to me last night that one of the things I wanted to do and hadn't done yet was to visit the Spirit Museum on Djurgården, home of the Absolut vodka artwork exhibit. I got there around 10:00, just in time for the opening, and really enjoyed my visit. The museum is fairly small, but it does have original Absolut promotional artwork from such legendary artists as Andy Warhol and Keith Haring. The rest of the museum explored various kinds of alcoholic beverages in Sweden, including absinthe. Outside of the Absolut exhibit, I think my favourite part was a room set up to make you experience what it feels like to be hung over. I am not exactly sure how it works, but there were definitely electromagnetic pulses coming from the floor boards. The vibrations, I swear, made me feel hung over. It was an incredible simulation! As soon as I left the room, I was fine. Very weird!
From Djurgården, I made my way on foot to the Åhlen's department store. This is where I had found many good CDs back in 2010, and I wanted to check it out this time to see what they had. I was not prepared to see a large display of Agnetha Fältskog's new album, "A". The official release date is just supposed to be on 13 May! I am very excited to be able to say I bought her new album in Stockholm! I also picked up the Melodifestivalen 2013 double CD (I had gotten the 2010 one last time I was here), and a greatest hits collection by Tomas Ledin.
I did not feel like having lunch anywhere near the centre town, where prices are totally ridiculous. So, as I thought I was exiting Åhlen's, I stumbled upon the subway station, and decided there and then to go to Södermalm for lunch. This is a much more reasonable area of the city for food, and it's got this younger, hippish vibe to it. The bonus was that by taking the subway to the Skanstull stop, I could get to revisit the Clarion hotel, where I stayed three years ago. (And for the record, my friend Hans is in agreement with me: it does not feel like it's been three years.) I made my way on foot from Skanstull, towards the Slussen subway station, looking for something for lunch. Whereas most hot meals in Gamla stan and the city centre seem to start at about 180 SEK before drinks (30 dollars), in Södermalm, I could find something for about 60SEK (about 10 dollars). I felt like having something light, so that I could have fika this afternoon (the traditional coffee break). So, I stopped off at a Subway restaurant and had a traditional Swedish räksaladsmörgås (shrimp salad submarine). It was really good, and not something I can find on the Subway menu back home.
It was close to 1:30 p.m. by the time I got to the Royal Palace (Kungliga slottet). I had not been able to visit it three years ago because it was closed for the royal wedding. I bought my ticket and got to see both the royal apartments and the royal treasury, the latter of which featured the royal crowns, crown jewels, swords, ceremonial garb, etc. All in all, it was very impressive. I left the palace around 3:00 p.m., in search of a post office to mail my postcards, and stumbled upon the Postal Museum, where I was told they could put my vykort (postcards) in the mail. I love being able to do all my business in Swedish!
I then decided to have fika at Chokladkoppen, a very popular dessert place in Stortorget, on Gamla stan. I had a glass of ice water and a home-baked kannelbulle (cinnamon bun). It was the size of a small pizza, filling the plate I had, and was very yummy. And what's more, at 24 SEK, it was only 4 dollars. Definitely one of the least expensive things I have seen in Stockholm!
By the time I left Chokladkoppen, it was 3:45 p.m., and I discovered that the Three Crowns Museum, which was also included in the price of my ticket to the royal palace, closes at 4:00. But that was OK, because I did not really have my heart set on going to another museum today. Instead, I made my way (without a map, I might add) to the Swedish Book Store, only to discover that it has closed since I visited there in 2010. It is now the Swedish Institute. From there, I backtracked a bit and returned to Gamla stan so that I could seek out a 7-Eleven and update my blog. It is now 4:45 p.m., and I am going to give Hans a call to see if he feels like doing something on this Friday night before I leave. I would like to have a nice dinner, and maybe go out for drinks afterwards. We shall see.
This morning, I awoke at 8:00 a.m., ready to face my final full day here in Stockholm. It really is sad, but I was resolved to enjoy my day. I got ready, stopped at the 7-Eleven for a lemon muffin and a bottle of water, and headed off on foot towards Djurgården. It had suddenly occurred to me last night that one of the things I wanted to do and hadn't done yet was to visit the Spirit Museum on Djurgården, home of the Absolut vodka artwork exhibit. I got there around 10:00, just in time for the opening, and really enjoyed my visit. The museum is fairly small, but it does have original Absolut promotional artwork from such legendary artists as Andy Warhol and Keith Haring. The rest of the museum explored various kinds of alcoholic beverages in Sweden, including absinthe. Outside of the Absolut exhibit, I think my favourite part was a room set up to make you experience what it feels like to be hung over. I am not exactly sure how it works, but there were definitely electromagnetic pulses coming from the floor boards. The vibrations, I swear, made me feel hung over. It was an incredible simulation! As soon as I left the room, I was fine. Very weird!
From Djurgården, I made my way on foot to the Åhlen's department store. This is where I had found many good CDs back in 2010, and I wanted to check it out this time to see what they had. I was not prepared to see a large display of Agnetha Fältskog's new album, "A". The official release date is just supposed to be on 13 May! I am very excited to be able to say I bought her new album in Stockholm! I also picked up the Melodifestivalen 2013 double CD (I had gotten the 2010 one last time I was here), and a greatest hits collection by Tomas Ledin.
I did not feel like having lunch anywhere near the centre town, where prices are totally ridiculous. So, as I thought I was exiting Åhlen's, I stumbled upon the subway station, and decided there and then to go to Södermalm for lunch. This is a much more reasonable area of the city for food, and it's got this younger, hippish vibe to it. The bonus was that by taking the subway to the Skanstull stop, I could get to revisit the Clarion hotel, where I stayed three years ago. (And for the record, my friend Hans is in agreement with me: it does not feel like it's been three years.) I made my way on foot from Skanstull, towards the Slussen subway station, looking for something for lunch. Whereas most hot meals in Gamla stan and the city centre seem to start at about 180 SEK before drinks (30 dollars), in Södermalm, I could find something for about 60SEK (about 10 dollars). I felt like having something light, so that I could have fika this afternoon (the traditional coffee break). So, I stopped off at a Subway restaurant and had a traditional Swedish räksaladsmörgås (shrimp salad submarine). It was really good, and not something I can find on the Subway menu back home.
It was close to 1:30 p.m. by the time I got to the Royal Palace (Kungliga slottet). I had not been able to visit it three years ago because it was closed for the royal wedding. I bought my ticket and got to see both the royal apartments and the royal treasury, the latter of which featured the royal crowns, crown jewels, swords, ceremonial garb, etc. All in all, it was very impressive. I left the palace around 3:00 p.m., in search of a post office to mail my postcards, and stumbled upon the Postal Museum, where I was told they could put my vykort (postcards) in the mail. I love being able to do all my business in Swedish!
I then decided to have fika at Chokladkoppen, a very popular dessert place in Stortorget, on Gamla stan. I had a glass of ice water and a home-baked kannelbulle (cinnamon bun). It was the size of a small pizza, filling the plate I had, and was very yummy. And what's more, at 24 SEK, it was only 4 dollars. Definitely one of the least expensive things I have seen in Stockholm!
By the time I left Chokladkoppen, it was 3:45 p.m., and I discovered that the Three Crowns Museum, which was also included in the price of my ticket to the royal palace, closes at 4:00. But that was OK, because I did not really have my heart set on going to another museum today. Instead, I made my way (without a map, I might add) to the Swedish Book Store, only to discover that it has closed since I visited there in 2010. It is now the Swedish Institute. From there, I backtracked a bit and returned to Gamla stan so that I could seek out a 7-Eleven and update my blog. It is now 4:45 p.m., and I am going to give Hans a call to see if he feels like doing something on this Friday night before I leave. I would like to have a nice dinner, and maybe go out for drinks afterwards. We shall see.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
High Culture in Stockholm
So after I left off last night, it was about 8:30 p.m. and I figured I would simply take the subway from Gamla stan and head back to Karlaplan, where my lodgings are located. When I got to the subway station, I gave Hans a call to ask him how he was feeling. He told me that he was doing much better, and given the fact that he was not working the next day because it is a statutory holiday (May 9th is Ascension Day in Sweden), he invited me to his condo in Södermalm for a glass of red wine. I took the bus to the Sofia station and got to his place shortly after 9:00. He served me a nice Spanish wine, and we sat down in his parlour to watch Swedish-language TV from Finland, and chat. There was a programme on the Eurovision Song Contest, which will be held in Malmö, Sweden this month. Then, he showed me a clip on his iPad of the Romanian entry in this year's contest: a man singing falsetto. It was so bad it was good...
I left his place around 11:30 p.m. and took the bus out to Slussen, and then a subway back to my lodgings. I got in around 12:15 p.m., and Jarl was already sleeping, so I quietly went to my room and fell asleep.
I woke up this morning very early on, probably around 7:00 a.m., because Jarl was making an awful lot of noise in the kitchen. I think he thought I was already out the door (or maybe even that I hadn't even come home last night). I tried as much as possible to keep sleeping, but just sort of lay there until 9:00 a.m., when I decided to get up. I showered, got ready, and left the flat around 10:30 a.m. I had no definite plans for this morning, but I would be meeting Hans for the opera this afternoon at the Kungliga operahuset. So, I grabbed a lemon muffin and a bottle of water at the 7-Eleven at the end of the street and caught the subway to Centralen. Once I got there, I found the information office and asked whether the Royal apartments, the Strindberg museum and the Akademibokhandeln were open today, because of it being a holiday. All three were scheduled to open at noon, so I had about an hour to kill. I gradually made my way to the Strindberg museum, which is housed in the last house Swedish playwright August Strindberg occupied from 1909 to 1912. I know Strindberg from his play "Miss Julie", which I had to study in my undergrad, and from his play "The Father", which a read a number of weeks ago. I stopped at a small cafe along the way, because it had somewhat decent prices (relatively speaking) and ordered a croque-monsieur (toasted ham and cheese sandwich) with a Swedish beer, for roughly 22 dollars Canadian. Prices in Stockholm are a lot more expensive than I remember them being, and not just because this time I am dividing by 6, whereas in 2010, the Canadian dollar was worth more and I was dividing by 7.
After that quick lunch, I got to the Strindberg museum, and just like at the information office earlier that morning, and at the small cafe, I did all of my transactions strictly in Swedish. This total immersion is so good for me and I am learning a lot. I am still amazed that I have the capacity to function in Swedish. And it feels really great.
The Strindberg museum was divided into two parts: the first was an exhibit on his works, featuring original manuscripts, and film clips of productions made from his plays. The other part of the museum was a tour of his actual apartment, including his study, where he wrote his works, as well as the bed in which he died from stomach cancer in 1912. I was hoping to buy an English-language translation of his most famous novel, Röd rummet (The Red Room) at the museum, but they only had the Swedish version. I left the museum around 1:00 p.m., with plenty of room to make it to the opera house to meet Hans at 2:30 p.m., so I slowly made my way downtown. I figured at this point, I would not have time to visit the royal apartments (maybe something I can do tomorrow), so I went in search of the book store Akademibokhandeln. I was especially interested in finding that book by August Strindberg, as well as anything in an English translation by Swedish writer Selma Lagerlöf. The prices for these two books were ridiculously expensive. Keep in mind these were paperback versions: the Strindberg book was 240 SEK (about 40 dollars Canadian), while the Lägerlöf was 180 SEK (about 30 dollars). I am absolutely sure I can order these online for a fraction of that cost!
I left Akademibokhandeln and, being in the neighborhood, made a quick stop at the Adolf Fredriks kyrka, where I remembered former Swedish prime minister Olaf Palme is buried. He was gunned down by an unknown assassin in February 1986. From there, I just stumbled upon the staircase that figures prominently in the ABBA video "Head Over Heels", the one that Frida runs up and down on. I had to take a picture... and then run up and down it.
I was still way early, so I stopped inside Sankt Jakobs kyrka, where the funeral of ABBA manager Stikkan "Stig" Andersson was held in 1997. Upon entering the church, a poster caught my eye: it was an advertisement for the bi-monthly mass service for LGBT people. I was suitably impressed.
I finally got to Kungliga operahuset about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, so I called Hans to let him know that I had arrived, and he told me that he was on his way, on his bike. So I sat down on the steps and kept writing my postcards. By the time he arrived shortly after 2:30, I had practically finished them all: I only have one left.
The opera we saw was "Il trovatore", by Italian composer Giuseppe Verdi. I knew going in that I would not understand very much of it. Not only was it sung in Italian, with Swedish subtitles only, but it is well-known as the most complicated plot in opera history, and I knew absolutely nothing about it going in. I could sometimes make out two or three complete screens of subtitles at a time, but then a few screens would come up where I could not understand a single word. And the music was so beautiful that it was lulling me to sleep. I'll admit that it was a struggle during at least the second act to keep my eyes open. At intermission, Hans told me that it was no wonder I was having a hard time following, because on top of all of the other difficulties, the translator chose to use archaic Swedish. I had to laugh. Anyway, Hans had come prepared and offered me coffee he had brought along in his backpack, in my own Pippi Longstocking cup, with milk and sugar, as well as a Swedish treat he got me for fika (the traditional mid-afternoon snack). It was an apple mazarin, very tasty.
The second half of the opera was somehow easier to follow, partly because the caffeine made me more alert. All in all, a wonderful production of a beautiful opera, and the soprano, Agneta Lundgren, who played Azucena, was noteworthy. I would even say she stole the show.
As we left the opera, Hans suggested that if I wasn't doing anything, perhaps I could join him and a few friends for dinner at a great pub in Södermalm. It was 6:00 p.m. then, and I wasn't doing anything, so he told me to take the subway to the Zinkensdamm subway station, and he would bike there to meet up with me so that we could go out for dinner. He didn't know the name of the pub but said it was near a McDonald's. Surprisingly, I was able to spot him in the pub whose name no one can remember, and I sat down and was introduced to his friends Reinhold and Jens, who have been together for more than 20 years. I was relieved to finally see a menu with half decent prices, so I ordered pytt i panna (Swedish hash, consisting of hash browns, bacon and a fried egg. I had had this meal in 2010 and really enjoyed it). I also ordered a couple of Swedish lagers. My meal was delicious, and with the two beers, came to just over 20 dollars Canadian, a real bargain. I got along very well with Jens, who is Norwegian by birth, and Reinhold, who was born in northern Sweden, on the Finnish border. Probably because of the 20-year age difference between the two of them, I got on particularly well with Jens, who, at 47, is closer in age to me. He sent me a Facebook invite, so I might just have someone else to write to in Swedish. But I have to say that our conversation tonight was in English, probably because they know just how limited my listening skills are at the moment.
After dinner, Hans suggested we go to the only gay bar on Södermalm, around 7:30 p.m. I believe it was called Side Tracks. As we entered, I immediately feel in love with the place: on the loud speakers, ABBA's "The Day Before You Came" was playing. They followed that up with Madonna's "Borderline", then with Blondie's "Heart of Glass". If nothing else, the place had great music. I enjoyed a Jameson whiskey and great company.
We left this venue fairly early, before 9:00 p.m., and we each went our separate ways. I caught the subway out to the 7-Eleven near my lodgings, where I am now putting the finishing touches on this post. Tomorrow is my last full day in Sweden, and I am already feeling very, very sad about leaving this country, the new friends that I have made, and especially this full-immersion in the language and the culture. Not only will it be my last full day in Sweden, but it will also be the half-way point (already!) of my trip. Sigh! Oh well, off to bed.
I left his place around 11:30 p.m. and took the bus out to Slussen, and then a subway back to my lodgings. I got in around 12:15 p.m., and Jarl was already sleeping, so I quietly went to my room and fell asleep.
I woke up this morning very early on, probably around 7:00 a.m., because Jarl was making an awful lot of noise in the kitchen. I think he thought I was already out the door (or maybe even that I hadn't even come home last night). I tried as much as possible to keep sleeping, but just sort of lay there until 9:00 a.m., when I decided to get up. I showered, got ready, and left the flat around 10:30 a.m. I had no definite plans for this morning, but I would be meeting Hans for the opera this afternoon at the Kungliga operahuset. So, I grabbed a lemon muffin and a bottle of water at the 7-Eleven at the end of the street and caught the subway to Centralen. Once I got there, I found the information office and asked whether the Royal apartments, the Strindberg museum and the Akademibokhandeln were open today, because of it being a holiday. All three were scheduled to open at noon, so I had about an hour to kill. I gradually made my way to the Strindberg museum, which is housed in the last house Swedish playwright August Strindberg occupied from 1909 to 1912. I know Strindberg from his play "Miss Julie", which I had to study in my undergrad, and from his play "The Father", which a read a number of weeks ago. I stopped at a small cafe along the way, because it had somewhat decent prices (relatively speaking) and ordered a croque-monsieur (toasted ham and cheese sandwich) with a Swedish beer, for roughly 22 dollars Canadian. Prices in Stockholm are a lot more expensive than I remember them being, and not just because this time I am dividing by 6, whereas in 2010, the Canadian dollar was worth more and I was dividing by 7.
After that quick lunch, I got to the Strindberg museum, and just like at the information office earlier that morning, and at the small cafe, I did all of my transactions strictly in Swedish. This total immersion is so good for me and I am learning a lot. I am still amazed that I have the capacity to function in Swedish. And it feels really great.
The Strindberg museum was divided into two parts: the first was an exhibit on his works, featuring original manuscripts, and film clips of productions made from his plays. The other part of the museum was a tour of his actual apartment, including his study, where he wrote his works, as well as the bed in which he died from stomach cancer in 1912. I was hoping to buy an English-language translation of his most famous novel, Röd rummet (The Red Room) at the museum, but they only had the Swedish version. I left the museum around 1:00 p.m., with plenty of room to make it to the opera house to meet Hans at 2:30 p.m., so I slowly made my way downtown. I figured at this point, I would not have time to visit the royal apartments (maybe something I can do tomorrow), so I went in search of the book store Akademibokhandeln. I was especially interested in finding that book by August Strindberg, as well as anything in an English translation by Swedish writer Selma Lagerlöf. The prices for these two books were ridiculously expensive. Keep in mind these were paperback versions: the Strindberg book was 240 SEK (about 40 dollars Canadian), while the Lägerlöf was 180 SEK (about 30 dollars). I am absolutely sure I can order these online for a fraction of that cost!
I left Akademibokhandeln and, being in the neighborhood, made a quick stop at the Adolf Fredriks kyrka, where I remembered former Swedish prime minister Olaf Palme is buried. He was gunned down by an unknown assassin in February 1986. From there, I just stumbled upon the staircase that figures prominently in the ABBA video "Head Over Heels", the one that Frida runs up and down on. I had to take a picture... and then run up and down it.
I was still way early, so I stopped inside Sankt Jakobs kyrka, where the funeral of ABBA manager Stikkan "Stig" Andersson was held in 1997. Upon entering the church, a poster caught my eye: it was an advertisement for the bi-monthly mass service for LGBT people. I was suitably impressed.
I finally got to Kungliga operahuset about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, so I called Hans to let him know that I had arrived, and he told me that he was on his way, on his bike. So I sat down on the steps and kept writing my postcards. By the time he arrived shortly after 2:30, I had practically finished them all: I only have one left.
The opera we saw was "Il trovatore", by Italian composer Giuseppe Verdi. I knew going in that I would not understand very much of it. Not only was it sung in Italian, with Swedish subtitles only, but it is well-known as the most complicated plot in opera history, and I knew absolutely nothing about it going in. I could sometimes make out two or three complete screens of subtitles at a time, but then a few screens would come up where I could not understand a single word. And the music was so beautiful that it was lulling me to sleep. I'll admit that it was a struggle during at least the second act to keep my eyes open. At intermission, Hans told me that it was no wonder I was having a hard time following, because on top of all of the other difficulties, the translator chose to use archaic Swedish. I had to laugh. Anyway, Hans had come prepared and offered me coffee he had brought along in his backpack, in my own Pippi Longstocking cup, with milk and sugar, as well as a Swedish treat he got me for fika (the traditional mid-afternoon snack). It was an apple mazarin, very tasty.
The second half of the opera was somehow easier to follow, partly because the caffeine made me more alert. All in all, a wonderful production of a beautiful opera, and the soprano, Agneta Lundgren, who played Azucena, was noteworthy. I would even say she stole the show.
As we left the opera, Hans suggested that if I wasn't doing anything, perhaps I could join him and a few friends for dinner at a great pub in Södermalm. It was 6:00 p.m. then, and I wasn't doing anything, so he told me to take the subway to the Zinkensdamm subway station, and he would bike there to meet up with me so that we could go out for dinner. He didn't know the name of the pub but said it was near a McDonald's. Surprisingly, I was able to spot him in the pub whose name no one can remember, and I sat down and was introduced to his friends Reinhold and Jens, who have been together for more than 20 years. I was relieved to finally see a menu with half decent prices, so I ordered pytt i panna (Swedish hash, consisting of hash browns, bacon and a fried egg. I had had this meal in 2010 and really enjoyed it). I also ordered a couple of Swedish lagers. My meal was delicious, and with the two beers, came to just over 20 dollars Canadian, a real bargain. I got along very well with Jens, who is Norwegian by birth, and Reinhold, who was born in northern Sweden, on the Finnish border. Probably because of the 20-year age difference between the two of them, I got on particularly well with Jens, who, at 47, is closer in age to me. He sent me a Facebook invite, so I might just have someone else to write to in Swedish. But I have to say that our conversation tonight was in English, probably because they know just how limited my listening skills are at the moment.
After dinner, Hans suggested we go to the only gay bar on Södermalm, around 7:30 p.m. I believe it was called Side Tracks. As we entered, I immediately feel in love with the place: on the loud speakers, ABBA's "The Day Before You Came" was playing. They followed that up with Madonna's "Borderline", then with Blondie's "Heart of Glass". If nothing else, the place had great music. I enjoyed a Jameson whiskey and great company.
We left this venue fairly early, before 9:00 p.m., and we each went our separate ways. I caught the subway out to the 7-Eleven near my lodgings, where I am now putting the finishing touches on this post. Tomorrow is my last full day in Sweden, and I am already feeling very, very sad about leaving this country, the new friends that I have made, and especially this full-immersion in the language and the culture. Not only will it be my last full day in Sweden, but it will also be the half-way point (already!) of my trip. Sigh! Oh well, off to bed.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
ABBA-Related Pilgrimages
Before I forget, yesterday when Frida and Björn were on the Today show, a French fan screamed something out which Frida couldn't quite make out, so she turned to her and asked, "Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?" It was cool hearing her speak French fluently.
This morning, I woke at 6:00 a.m. to bright sunshine. So I just rolled over and managed to sleep another hour. I got up at 7:00 and started to get ready. Jarl informed me that his Internet connection, which was not working last night, was back up and running, so I was able to check my Facebook status, e-mails and text messages.
I left the house around 9:00 a.m. with the t-shirts I bought yesterday at ABBA The Museum. The first thing on the agenda for today: return to the museum so that I can exchange the medium t-shirts I bought for myself for large sizes. The medium shirts fit right in the belly, but my chest is too wide for them. So I took another street car from Centralen and got to Djurgården around 10:00 a.m. The people at the museum were very cooperative, and since I was there again, in addition to exchanging my t-shirts for larger sized ones, I also gave in and bought myself a t-shirt I had eyed yesterday. It is a limited edition shirt with the message: "I Was There First, Stockholm 2013". And I had a minor mishap in the museum. I am having problems dividing prices in my head. I have to work with the table of 6, so every price in Swedish kronor I divide by 6 to get a rough estimate of a Canadian price. So, when I saw the ABBA magnets, I thought they were really cheap at 60 cents Canadian, so I brought some. It was only after I had left the shop that I realized they were 6 dollars each. I was not impressed... but it was a learning experience and I am more careful with my math now.
After leaving the ABBA Museum, I figured I would go to Skansen, since it was a short walk from the museum. Skansen is Sweden's largest outdoor historical reconstruction, a sort of King's Landing. One of the buildings here is Julius Kronbergs atelje, the working studio of Swedish artist Julius Kronberg. I had tried to visit this building in 2010, but it was closed to the public then, much to my utter dismay. The reason I wanted to visit it is because ABBA posed here in front of the artwork for the cover of their 1981 album, the Visitors. After asking at the entrance to the park, the attendant confirmed for me that the workshop happens to be open this week. (It is only open a few weeks a year.) So I made my way to the bright yellow building, just as its doors were being opened. I was not the first to arrive, however, because there was already a gay couple from Los Angeles who were waiting to enter. It truly was an exciting moment for me to finally see the setting for the classic album cover, and also to admire the tall, central painting of the angel.
It was past noon, so I decided to have a bite to eat in one of the restaurants in Skansen. I chose to have another amazing serving of köttbullar (Swedish meatballs, with mashed potatoes, lingonberries and pickled cucumber). Delicious.
I took the ferry back from Djurgården to Centralen, and saw that it was close to 2:00 p.m. by this time. One of the things I wanted to do on my list was to return to Silverdahls griftegård, the cemetery in Sollentuna (northwest of Stockholm), where singer Ted Gärdestad is buried. He was a child prodigy and teen idol in Sweden and released his first album when he was just 15 in 1971. Unfortunately, he suffered from schizophrenia, and in 1997, at the age of 41, he committed suicide by jumping in front of a subway car. Ted was a protege of Benny and Björn, and this is how I came to discover his music. The way to the cemetery was very long. I had to take a subway from Centralen, then another subway, then the bus out to the cemetery. I got there after about 90 minutes of commute. Surprisingly, I was able to locate his grave from memory. I bought a single red rose at the flower shop at the entrance to the cemetery. I sat down on the sidewalk beside his grave, once I had deposited the rose, and got my iPod out to listen to three of his songs: "För kärlekens skull" (For Love's Sake), "Sol, vind och vatten" (Sun, Wind and Water) and "Himlen äroskyldigt blå" (The Heavens are Unbelievably Blue).
I took two buses and a subway to get back to Centralen, from which I walked out to Gamla stan, in search of a place to have dinner. This was perhaps a bad idea because the Old Town district is the main tourist area, and prices are very expensive. I didn't feel like dishing out a lot of money for dinner (I was still reeling from my fridge magnets), so I had a burger and fries and a beer. That's just about it. I then found a 7-Eleven in Gamla stan, where I am currently writing this post. All in all, a good day.
This morning, I woke at 6:00 a.m. to bright sunshine. So I just rolled over and managed to sleep another hour. I got up at 7:00 and started to get ready. Jarl informed me that his Internet connection, which was not working last night, was back up and running, so I was able to check my Facebook status, e-mails and text messages.
I left the house around 9:00 a.m. with the t-shirts I bought yesterday at ABBA The Museum. The first thing on the agenda for today: return to the museum so that I can exchange the medium t-shirts I bought for myself for large sizes. The medium shirts fit right in the belly, but my chest is too wide for them. So I took another street car from Centralen and got to Djurgården around 10:00 a.m. The people at the museum were very cooperative, and since I was there again, in addition to exchanging my t-shirts for larger sized ones, I also gave in and bought myself a t-shirt I had eyed yesterday. It is a limited edition shirt with the message: "I Was There First, Stockholm 2013". And I had a minor mishap in the museum. I am having problems dividing prices in my head. I have to work with the table of 6, so every price in Swedish kronor I divide by 6 to get a rough estimate of a Canadian price. So, when I saw the ABBA magnets, I thought they were really cheap at 60 cents Canadian, so I brought some. It was only after I had left the shop that I realized they were 6 dollars each. I was not impressed... but it was a learning experience and I am more careful with my math now.
After leaving the ABBA Museum, I figured I would go to Skansen, since it was a short walk from the museum. Skansen is Sweden's largest outdoor historical reconstruction, a sort of King's Landing. One of the buildings here is Julius Kronbergs atelje, the working studio of Swedish artist Julius Kronberg. I had tried to visit this building in 2010, but it was closed to the public then, much to my utter dismay. The reason I wanted to visit it is because ABBA posed here in front of the artwork for the cover of their 1981 album, the Visitors. After asking at the entrance to the park, the attendant confirmed for me that the workshop happens to be open this week. (It is only open a few weeks a year.) So I made my way to the bright yellow building, just as its doors were being opened. I was not the first to arrive, however, because there was already a gay couple from Los Angeles who were waiting to enter. It truly was an exciting moment for me to finally see the setting for the classic album cover, and also to admire the tall, central painting of the angel.
It was past noon, so I decided to have a bite to eat in one of the restaurants in Skansen. I chose to have another amazing serving of köttbullar (Swedish meatballs, with mashed potatoes, lingonberries and pickled cucumber). Delicious.
I took the ferry back from Djurgården to Centralen, and saw that it was close to 2:00 p.m. by this time. One of the things I wanted to do on my list was to return to Silverdahls griftegård, the cemetery in Sollentuna (northwest of Stockholm), where singer Ted Gärdestad is buried. He was a child prodigy and teen idol in Sweden and released his first album when he was just 15 in 1971. Unfortunately, he suffered from schizophrenia, and in 1997, at the age of 41, he committed suicide by jumping in front of a subway car. Ted was a protege of Benny and Björn, and this is how I came to discover his music. The way to the cemetery was very long. I had to take a subway from Centralen, then another subway, then the bus out to the cemetery. I got there after about 90 minutes of commute. Surprisingly, I was able to locate his grave from memory. I bought a single red rose at the flower shop at the entrance to the cemetery. I sat down on the sidewalk beside his grave, once I had deposited the rose, and got my iPod out to listen to three of his songs: "För kärlekens skull" (For Love's Sake), "Sol, vind och vatten" (Sun, Wind and Water) and "Himlen äroskyldigt blå" (The Heavens are Unbelievably Blue).
I took two buses and a subway to get back to Centralen, from which I walked out to Gamla stan, in search of a place to have dinner. This was perhaps a bad idea because the Old Town district is the main tourist area, and prices are very expensive. I didn't feel like dishing out a lot of money for dinner (I was still reeling from my fridge magnets), so I had a burger and fries and a beer. That's just about it. I then found a 7-Eleven in Gamla stan, where I am currently writing this post. All in all, a good day.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
ABBA The Museum
So I woke up on my own about 6:30 a.m. this morning. I was too excited to go back to sleep. Today is the day I go to ABBA The Museum! I had asked Jarl to wake me at 8:00 a.m. to make sure I had time to make it to Djurgården for my scheduled entrance at 10:30 a.m., as per my ticket. But I didn't need the wake-up call after all. I took advantage of my free wi-fi and checked my Facebook page and yahoo e-mails. I then shaved, showered and got dressed. I then went to the kitchen, where Jarl had told me I could take anything I wanted from the fridge. I just got a banana, because I still had half a giant lemon muffin and half a bottle of water from the night before. Jarl introduced me to his school-age daughter, who lives part-time with him, part-time with her mom.
I left the house at 9:00 a.m. and took the subway to Centralen. From there, I discovered I could take the street car to Djugården. I had never taken a street car in my life, so this was another first for me. I got off the street car at The Nordiska Museum and made my way on foot to the ABBA museum, where I arrived around 9:45. There were tons of people there in the courtyard, including two young Swedish women dressed in the costumes just like those Frida and Agnetha wore at the Eurovision song contest in 1974. The first group of people who had been issued tickets could go in at 10:00 a.m., so when I arrived there at 9:45, it was still closed. At 10:00, the CEO of ABBA The Museum and the CEO of the Swedish Music Hall of Fame announced that two very special guests would dedicate the opening of the building: the latest Swedish winner of the Eurovision Song contest, Loreen, and the first Swedish winner, Björn Ulvaeus. They solemnly declared the museum open, and the lucky 10:00 a.m. time-slot people ushered in. I waited outside, where i photographed a man who was juggling lit torches. It turns out that he was the same man juggling fire on the cover of the Super Trouper album back in 1980. In the courtyard, I also recognized Owe Sandström, ABBA's costume designer, so I took a photograph of him.
Even though my entrance to the museum was just at 10:30, there was nothing to prevent me from spending time in the gift shop at the entrance to the museum, so this is what I did. It gave me time to scout the shop and see what I could pick up on my way out. Lots of t-shirts, fridge magnets, notepads, CDs, etc.
At 10:30 I could finally enter the exhibit. OMG it was so fun and entirely interactive. With the ticket we had when we went in, we could scan it at each interactive booth, and our performances were all digitally recorded. At one point in the near future, they will be placed on our own created personal page on abbathemuseum.com. From there, I will be able to share them with my family and friends, and even post them on Facebook. The interactive exhibits included a sing-along in virtual costumes, a dance routine set to one of ABBA's videos (I chose "Take A Chance On Me"), karaoke (I chose "Waterloo"), dancing with four holograms of ABBA (I chose "Mamma Mia"), and trying our hand at mixing an ABBA song. In the ABBA Trivia game, I chose the moderate questionnaire and scored 15 out of 15. In addition, the exhibit featured recreations of the Polar Music Studios, the Polar Music Office, the Viggsö writing hut in the Stockholm archipelago where Benny and Björn penned their songs, the backstage area at a concert, and Björn and Agnetha's kitchen. I got to have my picture taken inside the helicopter that is featured on the "Arrival" cover. And I got my picture taken on a park bench in front of the famous park bench photo. And I saw tons of impressive memorabilia: all of the costumes I was hoping to see, Hep Stars and Hootenanny Singers posters, a piano that is synched to the one in Benny's music studios so that when he plays it there it plays in the museum, a Hudson's Bay jacket one of the girls got in Vancouver in 1979, Benny's first accordeon he got when he was 6, an ABBA Rubik's Cube and the marionettes from "ABBA The Last Video". The last room in the exhibit is a theatre, where they play "ABBA The Movie".
The rest of the exhibit space is devoted to the history of popular music in Sweden, and I have to say that I was disappointed by it. There was not very much substance here, and just fleeting references to Ace of Base, Roxette and (my favourite) Ted Gärdestad.
In the museum shop, everything was so expensive. So I exercised some self-control and bought myself two t-shirts and dolls of the four ABBA members. I also bought my niece Emilie a gift here. When I got outside, it was close to noon, and I noticed there was a crowd of people that formed a circle around something, so I went to have a look. It turns out that it was a camera crew from NBC that had come to film a segment on ABBA The Museum for the Today Show. As luck would have it, I was positioned strategically in front of the camera, three rows back. I called my parents to let them know that I would be on TV, and then I waited a while. There were a lot of breaking news stories, like those three missing women who were just discovered this morning trapped in a house by two brothers. So, our segment kept getting delayed. Eventually, the crew began filming, and the hostess introduced Björn and Frida, who came out into the little square and stood just feet away from me (again). The couple who stood immediately in front of me were thrilled. The woman has been an ABBA fan for 30 years and this was her first time seeing any of the ABBAs. When we got to chatting I discovered that they are from Halifax. Small world.
At the end of the interview, it was 2:30 p.m., and I had still not eaten lunch, so I decided to leave Djurgården on foot and to make my way to Gamla stan. On the way, I called my mom to find out if they had seen me, and she said that they saw me very well, with my sunglasses on my forehead. I mentioned the museum shop, and mom requested a t-shirt of ABBA The Museum, so I turned back and picked one up for her, in addition to two fridge magnets for myself.
This task done, I sought out the small cemetery on Djurgården where Stikkan "Stig" Andersson, ABBA's manager, is buried. I had visited his grave site three years ago, but since then, his widow Gudrun has been buried beside him. I got a photograph of the new stone.
Now, it was definitely time for lunch. Almost off the island, near Blåporten (The Blue Door), I found a little food stand. I didn't feel like having an expensive meal just then (after having spent so much in the museum shop), so I ordered something I had been meaning to try, a tunnebrödrulle: a pita filled with mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes and lettuce, a hotdog, mayonnaise and shrimp. It was okay, and very filling.
I was in the mood to walk in the city, so I slowly made my way on foot to Drottninggatan. Memory told me that this was the street where I had seen a large CD store three years ago. And memory served me well. (It was also the street where a small bomb exploded shortly after my last trip to Sweden). I went inside the CD shop, but there was nothing worthy of notice. On my way out, I headed south through Gamla stan and finally found a gift for Gabrielle. Now all three nephews and nieces have a gift. I also bought myself a new Sweden t-shirt, and a couple of wooden Christmas tree decorations like the ones I bought three years ago that I love so much.
I stopped for a cone of soft vanilla ice-cream during my walk. Man, I had forgotten how good these were! Real vanilla. I decided it was time for me to find a computer so that I could get caught up in my blog. After all, I had nearly two days' worth to get caught up on. So, I took the subway from Slussen to Karlaplan, near my lodgings. I made my way to the 7-Eleven, where I am currently writing this post. I have also tried to log onto the abbathemuseum web site to see my interactive activities, but they say to check back soon. Can't wait! I will definitely post to Facebook...
I left the house at 9:00 a.m. and took the subway to Centralen. From there, I discovered I could take the street car to Djugården. I had never taken a street car in my life, so this was another first for me. I got off the street car at The Nordiska Museum and made my way on foot to the ABBA museum, where I arrived around 9:45. There were tons of people there in the courtyard, including two young Swedish women dressed in the costumes just like those Frida and Agnetha wore at the Eurovision song contest in 1974. The first group of people who had been issued tickets could go in at 10:00 a.m., so when I arrived there at 9:45, it was still closed. At 10:00, the CEO of ABBA The Museum and the CEO of the Swedish Music Hall of Fame announced that two very special guests would dedicate the opening of the building: the latest Swedish winner of the Eurovision Song contest, Loreen, and the first Swedish winner, Björn Ulvaeus. They solemnly declared the museum open, and the lucky 10:00 a.m. time-slot people ushered in. I waited outside, where i photographed a man who was juggling lit torches. It turns out that he was the same man juggling fire on the cover of the Super Trouper album back in 1980. In the courtyard, I also recognized Owe Sandström, ABBA's costume designer, so I took a photograph of him.
Even though my entrance to the museum was just at 10:30, there was nothing to prevent me from spending time in the gift shop at the entrance to the museum, so this is what I did. It gave me time to scout the shop and see what I could pick up on my way out. Lots of t-shirts, fridge magnets, notepads, CDs, etc.
At 10:30 I could finally enter the exhibit. OMG it was so fun and entirely interactive. With the ticket we had when we went in, we could scan it at each interactive booth, and our performances were all digitally recorded. At one point in the near future, they will be placed on our own created personal page on abbathemuseum.com. From there, I will be able to share them with my family and friends, and even post them on Facebook. The interactive exhibits included a sing-along in virtual costumes, a dance routine set to one of ABBA's videos (I chose "Take A Chance On Me"), karaoke (I chose "Waterloo"), dancing with four holograms of ABBA (I chose "Mamma Mia"), and trying our hand at mixing an ABBA song. In the ABBA Trivia game, I chose the moderate questionnaire and scored 15 out of 15. In addition, the exhibit featured recreations of the Polar Music Studios, the Polar Music Office, the Viggsö writing hut in the Stockholm archipelago where Benny and Björn penned their songs, the backstage area at a concert, and Björn and Agnetha's kitchen. I got to have my picture taken inside the helicopter that is featured on the "Arrival" cover. And I got my picture taken on a park bench in front of the famous park bench photo. And I saw tons of impressive memorabilia: all of the costumes I was hoping to see, Hep Stars and Hootenanny Singers posters, a piano that is synched to the one in Benny's music studios so that when he plays it there it plays in the museum, a Hudson's Bay jacket one of the girls got in Vancouver in 1979, Benny's first accordeon he got when he was 6, an ABBA Rubik's Cube and the marionettes from "ABBA The Last Video". The last room in the exhibit is a theatre, where they play "ABBA The Movie".
The rest of the exhibit space is devoted to the history of popular music in Sweden, and I have to say that I was disappointed by it. There was not very much substance here, and just fleeting references to Ace of Base, Roxette and (my favourite) Ted Gärdestad.
In the museum shop, everything was so expensive. So I exercised some self-control and bought myself two t-shirts and dolls of the four ABBA members. I also bought my niece Emilie a gift here. When I got outside, it was close to noon, and I noticed there was a crowd of people that formed a circle around something, so I went to have a look. It turns out that it was a camera crew from NBC that had come to film a segment on ABBA The Museum for the Today Show. As luck would have it, I was positioned strategically in front of the camera, three rows back. I called my parents to let them know that I would be on TV, and then I waited a while. There were a lot of breaking news stories, like those three missing women who were just discovered this morning trapped in a house by two brothers. So, our segment kept getting delayed. Eventually, the crew began filming, and the hostess introduced Björn and Frida, who came out into the little square and stood just feet away from me (again). The couple who stood immediately in front of me were thrilled. The woman has been an ABBA fan for 30 years and this was her first time seeing any of the ABBAs. When we got to chatting I discovered that they are from Halifax. Small world.
At the end of the interview, it was 2:30 p.m., and I had still not eaten lunch, so I decided to leave Djurgården on foot and to make my way to Gamla stan. On the way, I called my mom to find out if they had seen me, and she said that they saw me very well, with my sunglasses on my forehead. I mentioned the museum shop, and mom requested a t-shirt of ABBA The Museum, so I turned back and picked one up for her, in addition to two fridge magnets for myself.
This task done, I sought out the small cemetery on Djurgården where Stikkan "Stig" Andersson, ABBA's manager, is buried. I had visited his grave site three years ago, but since then, his widow Gudrun has been buried beside him. I got a photograph of the new stone.
Now, it was definitely time for lunch. Almost off the island, near Blåporten (The Blue Door), I found a little food stand. I didn't feel like having an expensive meal just then (after having spent so much in the museum shop), so I ordered something I had been meaning to try, a tunnebrödrulle: a pita filled with mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes and lettuce, a hotdog, mayonnaise and shrimp. It was okay, and very filling.
I was in the mood to walk in the city, so I slowly made my way on foot to Drottninggatan. Memory told me that this was the street where I had seen a large CD store three years ago. And memory served me well. (It was also the street where a small bomb exploded shortly after my last trip to Sweden). I went inside the CD shop, but there was nothing worthy of notice. On my way out, I headed south through Gamla stan and finally found a gift for Gabrielle. Now all three nephews and nieces have a gift. I also bought myself a new Sweden t-shirt, and a couple of wooden Christmas tree decorations like the ones I bought three years ago that I love so much.
I stopped for a cone of soft vanilla ice-cream during my walk. Man, I had forgotten how good these were! Real vanilla. I decided it was time for me to find a computer so that I could get caught up in my blog. After all, I had nearly two days' worth to get caught up on. So, I took the subway from Slussen to Karlaplan, near my lodgings. I made my way to the 7-Eleven, where I am currently writing this post. I have also tried to log onto the abbathemuseum web site to see my interactive activities, but they say to check back soon. Can't wait! I will definitely post to Facebook...
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