Saturday, April 01, 2006
VIII. Ærø-borne [originally posted Thursday 11 May 2000]
And suddenly it occurs to me why there are so many Sol Center (tanning booths) in Denmark. When the sun finally comes out here it comes to stay: from five in the morning until ten at night; and if you are a fair-skinned Scandinavian without an established base tan, you end up looking just like me - burnt to toast on your face and arms, and pastey-white everywhere the sun don't shine. Danes love the sunshine, there's no doubt about it. The parks are full of sunbathers now, the students sit out on the lawn during lunch, and I even witnessed a woman roll up her pants at the bus-stop in order to get a little sun on her legs. The black leather jackets are quickly being replaced by an amazing assortment of sundresses and halter tops, and rollerbladers now compete with the cyclists for space in the bike lanes. Lots of restaurants have set up their outdoor tables too, which quickly fill up with folks sitting in the sun, smoking cigaretter, sipping fadøl, and chatting on their cell phones. Springtime in Denmark. Not so different from springtime anywhere else, I guess, but celebrated with particular relish after the long, dark Danish winter.
Friend Susan Baca and my Mom at an outdoor cafe in Aalborg
Had mit hår klippet by an authentic Danish (actually, Turkish) frisør this week as well: nice and kort, exposing plenty of extra skin on the top of my head suitable for sunburning. It was an amazing cultural experience: I've never seen scissors snip so quickly; in fact, I was a little worried about him cutting something other than my hair, so I made sure to remind him that my ears stick out a bit! And when he reached for the straight razor to trim my sideburns and the hair on the back of my neck (which was now standing up quite nicely, thank you) my anxiety increased noticeably. But the entire experience only lasted about ten minutes, including the hair oil and the aftershave, and not a drop of blood was spilled.
Egeskov Slot
Last weekend my mother and I made an overnight excursion to the island of Ærø, where we met up again with Mary Lou and her friend Ann at the Ærøskøbing Vandrerhjem. On the train trip down Saturday we stopped off to see Egeskov Slot, a Rennaisance-era castle just outside of Draerndrup, which is build in the center of a small lake and surrounded by magnificent topiary gardens. Met a maverick Aggie on the train platform in Odense, who has been here in Europe for a year on a Rotary exchange and decided to take along with us to see the castle too; it was kind of fun having a little company from the States, and to compare notes about the differences between Europe and Texas. The castle has a webpage, BTW, www.egeskove.com so if you want to see (more) of what you missed just go ahead and click.
After spending a few hours exploring the castle and grounds, we caught the train on to Svendborg, where we boarded the ferry to Ærø. Enjoyed a very pleasant 70-minute cruise over to Ærøskøbing, where Ann and Mary Lou were waiting for us dockside. They helped lug my mom's luggage the 700 meters back to the hostel, then we all went out to dinner at the Hotel Ærøhus, where I enjoyed a dessert of Rødgrød med Flød -- which proved much easier to eat than it was to order!
Ærø is a very popular destination for both Danish and German boaters. Even this early in the season we noticed lots of sailboats in the marina, and at various other anchorages around the island. This got me fantasizing about someday coming back for the summer and buying a small sailboat myself, then "gunkholing" around Denmark and the Baltic for several months before selling the boat again at the end of the season.
Sunday Mary Lou was adamant that I accompany her and Ann on the 18-mile bicycle tour of the island's hinterland described in Rick Steves Scandinavian guidebook, so I rented a clunky old 3-speed (with coaster breaks as well as hand brakes!) at the hostel for 40 kr and away we pedaled. I think my 62-year-old aunt was kind of expecting to cycle me into the ground, but I quickly took the lead (since I was the only one who could read the Danish road signs) and only had to walk my heavy bike up one long hill in the center of the island (which I probably could have made if I hadn't been thinking about what my quads were going to be feeling like the next day). I was very much impressed by how much thought had gone into figuring out the route: the prevailing winds were always at our backs during the ride, while the final leg into the wind was all downhill.
Saw plenty of magnificent scenery, plus plenty of old windmills and an amazing 17th-century country church in the village of Store Rise, where I climbed into the high pulpit just to see what the view was like. Somehow managed to miss the Neolithic passage grave behind the church though, which was a real disappointment when we got back to the hostel at noon and read about it in the Lonely Planet guidebook. Caught the afternoon ferry back to Svendborg (where we managed to miss our first train connection) and methodically made our way home to Aalborg, where we arrived just as the sun was setting at 10 pm. Got up early the next morning and accompanied my mom to Frederickshavn, where she boarded another ferry (the size of a small ocean liner, complete with four restaurants and a casino!) to Larvik for the start of her week-long “Norway in a Nutshell” excursion to Olso, Bergen, and the Fjords. When she returns on Friday morning, we are both off again to Copenhagen for her last four days in Denmark before she returns to Seattle.
It is rapidly dawning on me how few days I actually have left here in Aalborg. When I get back from Copenhagen Monday evening, I will be "home" just long enough to repack my bag before taking of the next morning for Norway (and possibly Stockholm) myself, then it'’s just one more week until I leave here permanently for my "“petite tour" of France, Italy and Germany in June. The time has passed very quickly, and this will probably be the last e-mail I will send for awhile... although I do hope to be able to write once more when I return from the north. Until then, God Rejse! to all of you, wherever your own travels may take you.........twj
And suddenly it occurs to me why there are so many Sol Center (tanning booths) in Denmark. When the sun finally comes out here it comes to stay: from five in the morning until ten at night; and if you are a fair-skinned Scandinavian without an established base tan, you end up looking just like me - burnt to toast on your face and arms, and pastey-white everywhere the sun don't shine. Danes love the sunshine, there's no doubt about it. The parks are full of sunbathers now, the students sit out on the lawn during lunch, and I even witnessed a woman roll up her pants at the bus-stop in order to get a little sun on her legs. The black leather jackets are quickly being replaced by an amazing assortment of sundresses and halter tops, and rollerbladers now compete with the cyclists for space in the bike lanes. Lots of restaurants have set up their outdoor tables too, which quickly fill up with folks sitting in the sun, smoking cigaretter, sipping fadøl, and chatting on their cell phones. Springtime in Denmark. Not so different from springtime anywhere else, I guess, but celebrated with particular relish after the long, dark Danish winter.
Friend Susan Baca and my Mom at an outdoor cafe in Aalborg
Had mit hår klippet by an authentic Danish (actually, Turkish) frisør this week as well: nice and kort, exposing plenty of extra skin on the top of my head suitable for sunburning. It was an amazing cultural experience: I've never seen scissors snip so quickly; in fact, I was a little worried about him cutting something other than my hair, so I made sure to remind him that my ears stick out a bit! And when he reached for the straight razor to trim my sideburns and the hair on the back of my neck (which was now standing up quite nicely, thank you) my anxiety increased noticeably. But the entire experience only lasted about ten minutes, including the hair oil and the aftershave, and not a drop of blood was spilled.
Egeskov Slot
Last weekend my mother and I made an overnight excursion to the island of Ærø, where we met up again with Mary Lou and her friend Ann at the Ærøskøbing Vandrerhjem. On the train trip down Saturday we stopped off to see Egeskov Slot, a Rennaisance-era castle just outside of Draerndrup, which is build in the center of a small lake and surrounded by magnificent topiary gardens. Met a maverick Aggie on the train platform in Odense, who has been here in Europe for a year on a Rotary exchange and decided to take along with us to see the castle too; it was kind of fun having a little company from the States, and to compare notes about the differences between Europe and Texas. The castle has a webpage, BTW, www.egeskove.com so if you want to see (more) of what you missed just go ahead and click.
After spending a few hours exploring the castle and grounds, we caught the train on to Svendborg, where we boarded the ferry to Ærø. Enjoyed a very pleasant 70-minute cruise over to Ærøskøbing, where Ann and Mary Lou were waiting for us dockside. They helped lug my mom's luggage the 700 meters back to the hostel, then we all went out to dinner at the Hotel Ærøhus, where I enjoyed a dessert of Rødgrød med Flød -- which proved much easier to eat than it was to order!
Ærø is a very popular destination for both Danish and German boaters. Even this early in the season we noticed lots of sailboats in the marina, and at various other anchorages around the island. This got me fantasizing about someday coming back for the summer and buying a small sailboat myself, then "gunkholing" around Denmark and the Baltic for several months before selling the boat again at the end of the season.
Sunday Mary Lou was adamant that I accompany her and Ann on the 18-mile bicycle tour of the island's hinterland described in Rick Steves Scandinavian guidebook, so I rented a clunky old 3-speed (with coaster breaks as well as hand brakes!) at the hostel for 40 kr and away we pedaled. I think my 62-year-old aunt was kind of expecting to cycle me into the ground, but I quickly took the lead (since I was the only one who could read the Danish road signs) and only had to walk my heavy bike up one long hill in the center of the island (which I probably could have made if I hadn't been thinking about what my quads were going to be feeling like the next day). I was very much impressed by how much thought had gone into figuring out the route: the prevailing winds were always at our backs during the ride, while the final leg into the wind was all downhill.
Saw plenty of magnificent scenery, plus plenty of old windmills and an amazing 17th-century country church in the village of Store Rise, where I climbed into the high pulpit just to see what the view was like. Somehow managed to miss the Neolithic passage grave behind the church though, which was a real disappointment when we got back to the hostel at noon and read about it in the Lonely Planet guidebook. Caught the afternoon ferry back to Svendborg (where we managed to miss our first train connection) and methodically made our way home to Aalborg, where we arrived just as the sun was setting at 10 pm. Got up early the next morning and accompanied my mom to Frederickshavn, where she boarded another ferry (the size of a small ocean liner, complete with four restaurants and a casino!) to Larvik for the start of her week-long “Norway in a Nutshell” excursion to Olso, Bergen, and the Fjords. When she returns on Friday morning, we are both off again to Copenhagen for her last four days in Denmark before she returns to Seattle.It is rapidly dawning on me how few days I actually have left here in Aalborg. When I get back from Copenhagen Monday evening, I will be "home" just long enough to repack my bag before taking of the next morning for Norway (and possibly Stockholm) myself, then it'’s just one more week until I leave here permanently for my "“petite tour" of France, Italy and Germany in June. The time has passed very quickly, and this will probably be the last e-mail I will send for awhile... although I do hope to be able to write once more when I return from the north. Until then, God Rejse! to all of you, wherever your own travels may take you.........twj
# posted by The Eclectic Cleric @ 3:12 PM 
