Here’s another in our big trip events. It begins with some general background info,
followed by more of a day-to-day rundown.
I hope you enjoy it.
Traveling groups: our group from Lee College was a total of
16; several last-minute cancellations reduced our original 20-something
number. Our Collette tour was enhanced
once we arrived in Stockholm with a group primarily from Iowa, with some
additions from California, Canada, and Minnesota. We weren’t the only tourist groups, of
course; our hotel, the Radisson Waterfront in Stockholm, hosted quite a few
groups from various travel companies, as well as individual tourists and
conference attendees. One of the things
I noticed quickly was the huge numbers of Orientals, primarily the Japanese;
this was something I remember when I was in Europe in the 80's; we actually
jokingly called them “the Ubiquitous” at the time. We expected a larger proportion of Scandinavians
and others from Europe, and while they made about a third of the ship’s
complement, the Japanese and the Americans pretty much carried the rest.
Logistics: Hank started off on the trip in fairly poor
condition. He can’t walk very far without
breathing heavily, and he developed a problem with his back and hip, which
required him to sit frequently to ease it.
We had two large suitcases, one rolling carry-on that held all the
medicines and diabetic supplies, and a small backpack for instant access to
necessities. And a cane. And we
purchased a sit-down walker, but since The Gupton weighs 325, it is a
“bariatric” walker, which is wider and heavier, with larger wheels. I started dubbing myself “the pack
horse.” Several people in our group, due
to our ages and natural deterioration, were using canes, but Hank was
definitely the one with the most trouble negotiating expeditions. The airports were brutal, and we eventually
resorted to a wheelchair and the electric trams just to get him through. The pack horse proved up to the challenge!
Getting there: when we booked the trip, we had asked for
upgrades on the flights. Unfortunately, it was ignored, and by the time I
realized it, we were unable to do any changes prior to the actual days of the
flights. The 3 hour leg from Houston to
Newark was brutal in a regular economy seat.
I could hardly fidget, so getting up at the end of the flight was a
challenge, thanks to my knees. Hank’s presence with walker and cane allowed us
to go on the planes early, but that was about the only plus. The 8 hour flight from Newark to Stockholm
allowed us to buy the “economy plus” option, which did give us more leg room,
but it was still extremely confining.
When you’re a long-legged woman with bad knees, and your partner weighs
in somewhere in the sumo wrestler range, those standard seats just don’t cut
it. I had sworn after a first-class ride to Ireland that I’d never do economy
again, but you know how God loves a good joke.
Stockholm was a delight.
The city itself is so charming in the older areas, due to the
architecture from the 18th and 19th centuries, and the
fact that it is on a number of islands, so water and boats are around every
turn. (They call it the Venice of the North). Several of the narrower streets
in Gamla Stan (the old town) have been closed for pedestrian traffic, providing
a lovely strolling opportunity. Statues
and parks were seen every few blocks, and the population took full advantage in
our great weather.
Our Radisson in Stockholm was located across from Central
Station, the rail and bus terminal for the city. A conference center was also next door, so
there was always a lot of action in the area, and plenty of opportunity for
people watching. As in most big-city train stations, there were bars, shops,
and kiosks of all kinds.
The hotel was fairly new, and was a great example of the
best in modern Scandinavian design. Lots
of beautiful birch wood and stone decorated the public areas, and our room
looked like an Ikea showpiece. We got a
handicapped room, and from the tile on the walls, to the heated floors, to the
bath fixtures, it was a stylistic and accessible joy. And for those of you who
haven’t been across the pond, again the Europeans are ahead of America for
safety and environmental consciousness when it comes to elevators, room lights,
and toilets! We had to scan our room
keycard in the elevator to make the buttons work, and your room card went into
a slot at the room entrance, which triggered the electricity in the room. (Since you had to take your card with you
when you walked out of the room, all the lights automatically go off.) The
toilets are those I have just started seeing in the U.S., with two different
flush options, depending on whether you need just a little water, or a major
cleaning flush. Oh, and the credit cards: while use of cards is almost
universal, in Europe they have “chip” cards, which makes them less likely to be
hacked. I fortunately got a new chip
card right before I left home, and when the others didn’t work, it was taken
easily.
The genetics: not everyone in Scandinavia looks like Elke
Sommer or Britt Eklund. While blonde
hair and blue eyes are quite common, a dark-haired type is just as common, and
I saw more grey eyes in one place than I have ever seen. Must be where Hank got
his. I was mistaken several times for a
Swede; a woman stopped me to ask directions, for example, and another came up
to me to take a survey. I would explain
I didn’t understand Swedish, that I was from Texas, and then I asked if I
looked Swedish. One young woman said,
yes, kind of! It happened again in Norway.
I was buying postcards, and the girl at the register started to speak in
English, took one look at me, and told me the price in Norwegian! Since I had just taken a very quicky
Norwegian language class on the ship the day before, I answered her, thanked her, and
said good-bye in Norwegian, with her none the wiser. What fun!
Bicycles: the Swedes, and even more, the Danes, are bicycle
mad. Hundreds and hundreds of bicycles
line the sidewalks by the commuter train stations, for example, and bicycle-only
strips of pavement between the street and the sidewalk are always crowded. The city of Stockholm even provides bicycles
for rent to the visitors for $3.00 a day, and you can take one from one rack
and leave it in another somewhere in town.
Recycling: the Europeans are years ahead of our
self-indulgent American population when it comes to conscious consideration of
the way we waste. The hotels are full of small notes about conserving water,
re-using towels, etc. The ship had announcements about the international effort
to avoid fouling the oceans. 
On my walks
through Stockholm neighborhoods, I came across small dumpsters in a row of 6. Each one was for different items: glass,
metal cans, paper, plastic, true garbage, and something else I can’t
remember. The dumpsters were half the
size of our business commercial dumpsters, so they must be getting heavy use in
their neighborhoods. Later on, I saw
little street corner waste can things that were marked similarly for the
walking person. We should be so considerate…
Jet lag: when we finally arrived in Stockholm, it was 7 am, which was midnight Texas time. Fitful napping on the plane was about all we could manage, and Hank’s insulin shots and pill-popping were screwed up big time. Our first day in Stockholm was a free day, so we just bugged out of touring and slept. Day 2 was supposed to include some morning excursions with our group, but again, we opted out. It really helped us get a handle on the meds and the jet lag.
Food and fun: Since we had opted for a nap and staying in,
our first meal in Stockholm was lunch at the hotel, where a very popular buffet
was served. There were several options
for the pricing of the buffet, and we chose an entrée and salad option. We knew there would be sticker shock for
prices in Scandinavia; our lunch cost us each about $50 US. Others in our group
had opted for picking up snacks and sandwiches at some of the shops in the
Central Station, but few got out for less than $20 US. But the buffet was
plentiful and delicious; we had bits of lamb, small beef patties with onion,
cod, a chili (definitely not Tex-Mex!) and that was just the hot dish choices.
The salad buffet had a lot of items seen in American restaurants, but pickled
veg of all kinds, cheeses, and cold cuts were also included.
Our starter was a slice of reindeer sausage, with a dill
sauce, along with a variety of breads and crackers. We toasted the evening with a sparkling wine
with a blueberry liqueur. The main course was a huge slab of salmon, with new
potatoes and a vegetable medley, mostly made up of root vegetables. Dessert was quite nice: two small scoops of
sherbet, one a strawberry and the other possibly mango (we never quite reached
a consensus), with a very ripe fresh strawberry. We had to walk a couple of blocks to the
waiting bus, and as became the custom, we started off early, but ended up being
the last to board. Hank just had to sit every so often. Then it was off to bed
for more sleep.
As noted, on Friday we chose not to visit the Royal Palace
and the Vasa ship museum; Hank woke late, and we ambled down for the breakfast
buffet. This time, the meal was part of
the tour package, and we took full advantage.
In addition to the usual bacon, eggs, and sausages that you would expect
at an American buffet, there were mushrooms, new potatoes, broiled tomatoes, a
variety of lunch meats and cheeses, and dozens of breads. I ate smoked trout for the first time, which
resembled salmon, so I had a lot more of it! Of course, there where the usual
cereals, granolas, mueslis, and such in addition to fruits and juices, but I
was much more interested in the exotic items than things I was familiar with.
After breakfast, Hank headed back to bed, and about 10:30, I
ambled out to explore. I knew about Hop
On, Hop Off busses from my trip to Ireland, so I originally was looking for the
stop, but when I couldn’t find it after 20 minutes, I just kept walking. Stockholm is mildly hilly, and of course, the
shorelines are everywhere, so this flatlander would get winded or the knees
would notify me of their presence every so often. I took advantage of those neighborhood parks
with their benches to recuperate. But I
covered quite a bit of ground in 2 hours, and found a chocolate shop that I had
sought, as well as orienting myself fairly well. 
And I spotted the Hop On bus, so I did just that, and took the hour and a half loop to the major tourist spots. I didn’t hop off, though; just wanted to get a general impression. Sitting on the double-decker roofless bus was a treat on such a beautiful day, and my camera was busy snapping the sights as we passed.
Got back to the room and forced my Sleeping Beauty to get up
and get moving. I drug him across the street to Central Station, where he
parked on a bench and watched the crowds (it was Friday afternoon rush hour)
while I sought postcards of the local sights.
Then I drug him all the way across the station (horrors! such a
distance!) to O’Leary’s, an American chain, where we wiled away some time
drinking stout and watching tennis from Rome (I was ecstatic – I hadn’t seen
the matches for 2 days already…). We
left there and trudged back all the way across the street (horrors, such strenuous
exercise) to the hotel bar, where we met up with a bunch of folk from our
group. We held court, swilling yet more
lager, and when they all left to walk to a restaurant for supper, we politely
declined (horrors, no more exercise for Hank!) and ate in the bar. Quite a pleasant end to our visit to
Stockholm.
Saturday bright and early (bright, because the sun rises at
4:30), we gathered in the lobby to head for the airport.
 |
| Label on a smoothie bottle in my breakfast bag! |
Our flight from Stockholm to Denmark took
just over an hour, and the Danes greeted us with a wheelchair escort from the
plane to the bus, a not inconsiderable distance. This pack horse, as you might remember,
wasn’t so lucky, but the walker only fell off the luggage cart 3 times, so it
wasn’t too ghastly. Besides, I think all
that weight lifting is helping keep me in shape since I’m missing cardio!
 |
| Offshore Copenhagen Windmills |
We headed straight from the airport to the cruise terminal,
and I was, thanks to my handicapped husband, whisked to the head of the line
with all the other crippled folk. We
were on the ship and finished with lunch before most others were even through
the terminal. And our luggage was
miraculously at our door before we got there – that had to be a first. So The
Gupton headed straight for bed (you were surprised?) and I unpacked the assorted
luggage, finally collecting all the medicines into one convenient spot.
Since we didn’t leave port for several more hours, my
balcony view was of a parking lot, but that improved immensely once we were at sea.
The mandatory fire drill was again an excuse to feature poor Mr. Gupton’s
disability, and they released all the cane, walker, and wheelchair folk (plus
their escorts) prior to turning everyone else loose. Our tour group then gathered for a short
meeting about trip details, and we headed for our first supper on ship.
If you haven’t done much of this sort of thing, you can
trust me when I say that first nights in the ship dining rooms are a little
frantic. The waiters haven’t had a
chance to establish a rapport with their tables, there are wine packages for
individuals that have to be handled, the diners are new to the ship and tired
from the stress of getting on board, etc.
It’s not that everyone is fussy, but there is a routine that needs to be
established, and it takes a few meals to do so.
But the cooks know their jobs, and the wine does its business, and
things begin to mellow. I had escargots, which I haven’t had in ages, and a
very nice prime rib, followed by a crème brulee. I selected the first wine in my package, and
they brought a Malbec by mistake (horrors on my part!) but that was soon
rectified after I tasted it – who knew my palate was getting that discerning.
Of course, I should have looked at the damn label, but I’ve never had an error
of that sort before.
Taking the Hankster back to the room and bedtime, I then
absconded with my key for a whiskey tasting!
It wasn’t as elegant or instructive as I had hoped, since the 20 year
old guy knew less than I did, but I did find a couple of new options for my
liquor cabinet. And I got a chance on
the raffle they held at 10. Yes, I broke
all my rules and stayed up WAY past my bedtime, and while I didn’t win, I was
the one who picked the ticket out of the box for the guy who did. Told him he owed me a drink…
Sunday morning was one of my first disappointments; this is
the first cruise I’ve been on that didn’t have a priest, so no Mass (those
Scandinavian Lutherans, ya know). But I
had booked a massage for Mr. G in the hopes that it might help his back, so we
had an early breakfast and headed for the spa.
While he got his hot stone massage on his tender tush, I tripped on over
to the gym side, where I broke a sweat on the treadmill for a while. It got way too warm inside, though, so I went
out on deck with several dozen other hardy souls (it was in the high 50s and
windy) and walked a bit more. Then I
checked out the library, shopped a little, and picked up my Boy Wonder, who was
quite fond of the nice lady from South Africa who had kept her hands on his ass
for an hour! She had some herbal
products she had used on him, and I got instructions for additional usage (and
decided that they should probably help me as well, considering how much they
cost). Then we stopped for lunch
burgers, and I took my baby home for another nap.
 |
| Wearing my new watch on formal night! |
Leaving the room, I headed back down to the shops, where
they were having a sale on wristwatches.
They had some nice discounts, and with our ship club card discount, I
got a nice Fossil for dress-up. I
figured the pack horse deserved a bit of sugar!
Then I went to a Norwegian language lesson with a bunch of other hearty
souls, who bravely attempted to learn how to say, “how much does this cost?”
and “where’s the john?” Supper was another pleasant diversion, and again, I
opted for the more exotic rather than the traditional. There was a chicken consommé with some things
I had never had in it, followed by a salad with a huge slab of salmon on
top. The salad again had things in it
that I would never have expected. After
all this slim-fast food, I doubled down on dessert and had a chocolate mousse
with an espresso sauce and another crème brule. I do so love diversity!
Norway: about 4:30 am, I woke up thinking: “we’ve docked
already, we’re not moving.” But I was
wrong – we had entered the fjord and left the open sea behind, and even though
the seas had been quite calm, the difference was very noticeable. Since it was already daylight, though, I
opened the curtains and got my first glimpses of the magnificent fjord we had
entered. Coming from flatland, estuaries
and marsh, it is an incredible contrast.
Snow still covered the tops of the crags, and waterfalls cascaded every
few hundred yards. There would be a
small house tucked in a flat spot up the mountain – that was one of the only
ways you could discern just how tall the mountain was. With no roads in sight, and a house 50 or 60
feet up from the water, it was hard to imagine the lifestyle of the
occupants.
By the time we actually arrived in Flam, nearly everyone on
the ship was up and watching our arrival.
You could almost feel the adrenaline rush. While not a large town, there were fairly
substantial buildings, and you could see some roads. Most communities in Norway are small villages
of a couple hundred to five hundred souls.
This community seemed to rely heavily on the tourist business; only
later did we find that they were a wealthy village due to the fact that
hydroelectric power from their waterfalls is generated to help most of Norway. Our ship did a very delicate dance, turning
in the harbor (and it took up nearly the whole space to do so). We docked without even a noticeable nudge, a
credit to the captain and crew!
I tore myself off the balcony long enough to take Hank to
breakfast. A new treat – eggs Benedict,
but they had salmon in them, their Norwegian nod. Absolutely fabulous – fish and eggs is my fav
breakfast, no matter what the fish. I’ll
probably never make eggs Benedict any other way again.
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However, what he didn’t live with so well was a problem with
his back and hip. He stepped off the
train at our high point, and hollered fit to beat the band. He had not done well with the hip since our
trek through 3 airports (after all, his exercise regimen consists of walking up
the drive for the morning paper). The
extra walking of the past few days evidently ignited a memory in his muscles
that something was odd here, and they proceeded to HURT. As in, we aren’t moving any more today.
He sat at the train platform for 2 hours,
rather than going into the hotel for waffles and coffee, and when the train
arrived, needed assistance big-time to get in to sit on the ride home.
We tracked down a couple of wheelchairs (one from the
station and one commandeered from the ship) and got him to the ship’s
doctor. After some discussion, he got
injections for pain and a muscle relaxer, with instructions to show up the next
morning for the same. He got pills as
well. We headed for the room, ordered
room service, and before the food arrived, he was well on his way to dreamland. He managed to awaken, eat all the food, and
crashed again.
In the meantime, I headed for the dining room, where I drank
the entire bottle of cabernet that I so richly deserved, along with a great
meal. Who knew that cherries pureed
would work so well with burgundy to make a chilled soup? I trotted back to check on The Gupton, who
was crashed, and to sit on the rapidly chilling balcony to watch the sunset. I
had used all my adrenaline, I think, and of course, that bottle of vino didn’t
hurt, so the sunset at 10 was too late for me.
Tuesday: Gerainger. Slept quite late for me; though I woke
at 4:30, I indulged and laid in bed till about 8, when I got a call from Lynne
Foley the tour arranger, who inquired after Hank. He woke up shortly after, and we showered and
after visiting the nurse for shots, went for breakfast during rush hour at the
café. We were fortunate that friends from our group were just leaving, so we
snagged their table, and I found the salmon and bagel buffet! Headed back to the room so Hank could nap for
an hour before we docked in Gerainger.
We docked about noon.
As we entered the dock area, we noticed another ship, with tenders
ferrying passengers. I immediately
thought of Hank trying to drop into a ship’s tender, and headed for Guest
Services. They reassured me by saying,
“oh, madam, we bring the dock to you!”
Thanks to a $2 million investment, Gerainger has a kind of accordion
portable dock that is motorized. It
snaggles out from the edge of the town to where we disembarked. Fascinating to watch it unfold and snuggle up
to the ship. It took about a half an
hour, and everyone was mesmerized.
We gathered for our tour, got our bus sticker numbers, and
ambled off the ship. Since we got the
handicapped preferred treatment, we were at our spot ages before our bus group.
There were about 14 busses going off to various spots. Ours was called “Gerainger Highlights”. We zigzagged up the “Eagle Road,” where the
birds used to nest before moving higher years ago (they didn’t care for the
traffic.) The views of the fjord and
town, and the Seven Sisters falls were magnificent. Then we skittered down the mountain again,
crossed town, and headed to an even higher mountain. This one was a mile high (well, actually 1495
meters). Got a picture of one of the
traditional huts with the sod growing on the roof. Way too much snow for this
transplant; I’ll take my Texas sweat-weather.
Got back to the town area, and the bus stopped at a Nordic
Museum for half an hour. By this time,
the Gupton and I had decided we were ready to leave, and it was time for his
next butt shots, so we asked the bus driver if there were taxis. He said yes, but he offered to take us to the
pier, so we had an entire bus to ourselves as we motored through town (it was a
five minute ride). He pulled up to our
ramp, and one of the women in charge of tour busses exclaimed, “who are you and
why are you here?” then when she heard he brought us back, she wanted to know
where he had left all his other people!
We assured her he was an angel of mercy, and he promptly headed back
where he belonged!
Did I mention that the weather has been incredible? We’re talking shirtsleeves, with an
occasional need for a scarf around the neck, or a jacket if some wind picks
up. When the sun comes out and hits the
walls of the fjord, the contrast of the rocks in light and shadow are a show in
themselves.
Got back on board, got the shots, and since it was almost
suppertime, we sat at one of the bars and listened to the house band until the
doors opened. Met a couple more folks
from our group, and we all trouped in to the dining room, where it was Italian
night. I had a creamy garlic soup (smooth
and yummy!) followed by eggplant parmesan, and then a bread pudding with
caramel sauce. After that, I trotted up
to the top deck to take some shots of the waterfall that cascades down the
middle of town, then repaired to the balcony to watch the dock fold back up so
we could leave.
Wednesday: the city (over 20,000) of Alesund isn’t all that
far from Gerainger, so we docked at 7 in the morning. The fjords made way for small hills, and a
much more industrial look at the dock area.
But Alesund’s claim to fame is its architecture, not its geography. The entire town burned down in 1904, and good
old Kaiser Wilhelm, who visited the area constantly, brought a ton of workmen,
supplies, and lumber from Germany, so the old town area is all in Art Deco
style, making it a unique spot for those who love that period.
When I planned the trip, I had already figured this would be
an off-day for us, so I didn’t book any shore excursions. I let Hank sleep a little longer, and grabbed
some coffee and some bagels and salmon, and we breakfasted (the first one!) on
our balcony. He agreed that it was
probably not a good idea for him to try a walk around town. We visited the
doctor for a follow-up visit, he gave us some more pills, and then we went for
the REAL breakfast! I had a salmon
omelet (I swear, I’m going to smell fishy for a month) and The Gupton had his
usual ton of food. I took him back to the room to sleep, and I headed out with
his cane and my backpack for a stroll.
I timed it just about right.
I walked about an hour, snapping shots of buildings, statues, and
flowers, and found a wonderful souvenir shop, where I collected nearly
everything I so desperately needed for my pseudo-daughters and their offspring.
I came out of the shop, and it started raining.
I pulled out my trusty rain poncho, pulled up the hood, and marched back
to the ship. The weather has been so incredible so far, that this light drizzle
didn’t dampen my spirits at all. I just
hope my fellow travelers are as sanguine. Suppertime gave our troupe a chance
to compare notes on the excursions, and the waiters sang “O sole mio” for
us. I joined in, quite loudly and
lustily. Everyone had lamb except me,
because I was trying to kill a bottle of Pinot Grigio. I got a rather tepid fried fish, and poached
some of Hank’s lamb. The appetizers were
much better; I had a baked feta with tomatoes and greens, and because they
looked good, I had a scallop appetizer as well.
I got the cheese plate for dessert, which had fig, grapes, a little
stalk of celery, 3 kinds of cheeses, and a slice of bread. So yummy I had a glass of port to go with it.
Thursday and Bergen: for some reason, Mr. Gupton decided to
wake up at 4:00 a.m. and take a shower.
This was decidedly not in my plans at that time of day. We docked in
Bergen, and were greeted by dense fog and lowering clouds. Fortunately, our tour today isn’t till one,
so the weather may lift. We breakfasted
with another couple who are dealing with a walker, and who we had met on one of
the tours. He’s waiting on a hip
surgery, so we compared notes; he’s also a 1st generation Swede, and
comes over to Scandinavia frequently (they are from Florida) so he gave me lots
of tips for when we come back here. More
salmon for breakfast!
Woke Hank up for the last shore excursion we have
booked. I’ve been looking forward to
Bergen because I studied it quite a bit when I was in college. Bergen, Hamburg, and some other seacoast
cities in northern Europe were part of the Hanseatic League, which existed for
hundreds of years, and brought about the development of the middle class
merchant trade. The weather got slightly
better, and the sun even peeked out occasionally. We had the “panoramic” tour, which meant we
got to sit on the bus for the whole time, a blessing for Hank. We passed the Hanseatic League buildings, a
few churches, and the interesting wood houses of the area. But the plants were what I truly
enjoyed. The rhododendrons here were in full
array by now, and spirea, lilacs, and even ligustrum were flowering. I even saw what I think was a raintree, which
I thought was tropical; gonna have to check that out at home.
Harry the bus driver informed us all that the Flam Railway,
which we were on just 3 days earlier, was closed due to a landslide. A huge rock was sitting on the track, and
they were having trouble moving it. We
were really lucky on that one! Took a few more photos on the tour, then back to
the ship for the last formal night and a group photo for our group from Lee
College.
Friday was our last sea day, and the weather became lovely
again after early morning fog. Somewhere
during the day, a little bird landed on one of our fellow traveler’s balcony;
how it got so far offshore, we don’t know.
Maybe a migrant, or just blown off from the wind. It was a day for packing and sitting on my
own balcony, and of course, eating! Hank
and I had met up with that couple from St. Augustine, Florida, thanks to our
mutual need for a “cripples’ table.” We ended up with breakfast together 3 times. The gent was a first generation Swede living in the
states, so he had lots of information. I
told him about my experiences being mistaken, and asked his opinion – he
thought I looked more Irish, which is what I had always assumed. They were heading for a visit with a cousin
after the ship docked.
Saturday was an early disembarkation about 8:30. We got Hank a wheelchair, which helped immensely, and boarded our tour bus in Copenhagen. We then spent the next 4 hours doing a sightseeing tour, waiting for our rooms to be ready at the hotel.
Saturday was an early disembarkation about 8:30. We got Hank a wheelchair, which helped immensely, and boarded our tour bus in Copenhagen. We then spent the next 4 hours doing a sightseeing tour, waiting for our rooms to be ready at the hotel.
We stopped at one of the many royal
residences during the tour (with a changing of the guard), as well as the mandatory stop to see the “Little Mermaid”
statue. The Gupton fell asleep on the
bus, so he was very relieved to finally get to SP34, our hotel. Its address is 34 St. Peter Street, and had
only been open for a month. It’s one of
the boutique-type hotels, and was created by taking over several small
buildings and stretching the rooms through rabbit warren hallways. Hank and I immediately repaired to the tapas
bar St. Moritz, which was next to the hotel, and whiled away a couple of hours
drinking beer and eating shrimp, mussels, asparagus, new potatoes, and slabs of
cheese and fruit. Another $100 lunch!
The hotel was, again, very Danish Modern in design
style. The color scheme was a LOT of
gray; dark gray halls, darker gray carpet, lighter gray room walls. One of our fellows reported that by the time
they got to their rooms, some of the hall walls were not even painted, and the
breakfast room was in the cellar, which reminded me more of a dungeon. But the rooms were well-appointed, if a bit
different in style; and we had windows overlooking Hans Christian Anderson
Street, one of the main thoroughfares.
The hotels here don’t do air conditioning, but the windows all open, so
we got fresh air (which is lovely) and lots of traffic noise (which is
considerably different than Anahuac).
And we got to see the hundreds and hundreds of bicycle riders and people
walking the streets. Copenhagen is a
city of about 1.5 million, and we were in the heart, so there was a lot of
action, day and night, including the bar 3 floors below our window…
Our evening was spent at Tivoli Gardens, a spot that Hank
and considered a top priority when in Copenhagen. When the time came to board the bus, he was
extremely reluctant to go, but I forced him.
It’s basically a tiny Disneyland, about the size of a city block. They have packed in a variety of stages for
performances, amusement rides, a children’s park, restaurants of all types, and
amazing floral displays. Our group was
there for 3 hours, and Hank and I spent most of the time near the front, where
the restaurants and the pantomime stage were located. The panto was a classic, based on the Comedia
dell Arte style from a couple of hundred years ago, with Pulchinella,
Harlequin, Columbine, and other classic types.
The music was all classical in style – could not imagine it being so
successful in the states. We had
milkshakes for supper, did a lot of people watching, and eventually went back
to the bus. I told Hank I would never
gripe about his choice of outfit again – the strangeness of the clothing
selections of the populace was not much different from the US, but it has cured
me of the need to make Hank look like what I think should be appropriate dress.
Sunday dawned with an intensely blue sky. The tourists were out in force, as were the
bike riders. A lot of people were
wearing shorts, which is a far cry from the weather we anticipated when
packing. Breakfast was typical European
fare: cereals, a wide variety of breads, cheeses, fruits, some cold cuts, and
juices. Hank decided maybe he wasn’t
Danish after all, since it wasn’t his kind of breakfast.
Got Hank back up to the room where he promptly crashed; he
said it was the first day he felt really good and his hip didn’t hurt, but he
didn’t trust himself walking all over the cobblestones in the old town
area. So I took off by myself for about
1.5 hours, and wandered down St. Peter Street to St. Peter’s Church at the end
(duh). From there, I cut across to the university area, where all the
pedestrian streets are located, and of course, where all the restaurants,
shopping, and people are. Since it was such a spectacular day, all the sidewalk
cafes were full of folk, and the street artists were out in full force. Saw a violinist, a keyboard man, a very funny
three-headed table (you’d have to see it to understand) and a couple of
absolutely amazing acrobats. The guy was
sitting Indian style, holding a staff, and she was using her hand on the staff,
but sitting the same way, about 4 feet in the air. And they didn’t move. Freaky. Tried to get Hank a tee shirt in several places, but no one sells higher
than 2X. We’re definitely not in the
States! But I did pass a Lego store, so I charged in with the 100 or so other
people in there. They had HUGE Lego
creations, including a full-sized motorcycle, a lion, a cityscape of Copenhagen
that was about 20 x 10 feet mounted on the wall, and a sea serpent that circled
in and out of the wall about 30 feet high.
What fun! Since I didn’t get to
Legoland, that was a pretty good substitute.
In the middle of all this commercial excess, there are more
interesting buildings. St. Peter’s, as I
noted, had been built in 1200, so it was Catholic before it became
Lutheran. They were having mass, and the
organ music was wonderful, as was the singing (I was outside listening). Then over at the university is another huge
Lutheran church which we visited on Saturday, next to the courtyard of the
school, which houses busts of some of the notables. Niels Bohr and Tycho Brahe were there, but I
didn’t recognize most of the others. A
few turns away was the astronomical observatory, a multistory round tower from
the renaissance period, and another large church which has been turned into an
art museum.
Heading home, I hit the street where all the kinky folk shop,
evidently. My first indication was a
couple of stores with seriously Goth looking black clothing, and tattoos all
over the mannequins; then a sex shop; then a gay bar. Amusing to visit, but glad I didn’t stumble
on it in the evening. Headed up to visit
the Hankster, who was still crashed. He
woke up eventually, and we went downstairs to the Cocks and Cows (yes, it’s a
gross name) and drank a few beers. Then
we went for our “farewell” dinner with the group. It was back in the downstairs dungeon of the
tapas bar, and thanks to our happy travelers, very loud. The meal was a mixed success. We started with anchovies, followed by
sardines, then what we jokingly called fried minnows and razor clams. We eventually got some shaved ham, a little
bit of lamb, some new potatoes, and a couple of other nondescript things,
before we ended with crème Catalan, which was crème brulee with lemon
flavor. Our table of five were not
amused with the dinner, but others enjoyed the weirdness.
We were to leave the hotel at 4 am. I usually fall asleep in my chair at 8:30,
but not this time. No rest for the
wicked, but Hank slept like an angel till I forced him up and down the teeny
elevator one last time. Most of our
Texas crowd lacked sleep as well, and we headed for the airport, arriving about
4:30. There we found no ticket booths
open to check us in, and when they opened, we found they could see our
reservation, but couldn’t see where we had tickets. So we had to go to yet another service area. Our tour guide Molly was breathing fire,
calling headquarters, practically grabbing people by the throat. Turned out it was dear United Airlines’
fault. So we all managed to get to the
gate just in time (thank the Lord for those wheelchairs) for the 1.5 hour
flight to Frankfurt; and then we had to do the same thing all over again, since
the tickets for that leg were also missing in action. I learned just how fast a 20-something person
can push a wheelchair, and how badly a 62 year old broad with bad knees and 2
weeks of wear and tear handles keeping up.
Ten and a half hours later, we landed in Houston, to see
some of the first rain since we had left.
We never did get our upgrades, so we negotiated the return rather
stiffly. Most everyone had dozed on the
flight, but we were all jet lagged and sleep-deprived. And hungry for Tex-Mex, which we had not seen
anywhere for 2 weeks. Sis Angie picked
us up, we headed for Anahuac, grabbed some Nopalitos to take home, and entered
the house to the uproar of dogs and cats, each wanting to be the one to sit in
our laps for an hour or so. Rhonda,
Megan, and Charlie were finishing up their loading of their stuff, and regaled
us with stories of the critters activities, then they headed out. We stuffed food down our gullets, went to bed
at 6:30 (1:30 am Copenhagen time) and slept like babes. No place like home…but I'd go back again, provided I didn't have to fly Economy!
