But today is Tuesday, and it's sunny, and Pam and I are engaged in our morning rituals in the sun room. Books, papers, iPads spread about the table - writing, researching, and plotting our day while children and turtles sleep.
Monday, June 29
Yesterday was a local day with a walk through the forest down by Rands Fjord. This, of course, after we make our traditional stop at the local bakery for delicious Danish pastries and 12 kroner coffee. I plug GPS coordinates from the brochure and map into the Garmin that has been our navigational angel since we got wheels, and in a short time we're in beech forest next to the fjord waters following the well-marked paths past farm land and farm houses, Danish sheep and cows.
After the hike, we explore the coast by Brejning, starting at the marina where employees of a local school are bailing out their sailboats. When we ask for a good beach, they point us 1.5 kilometer up the coast, but what we find there is a muddy, rocky mess that, despite the excellent pier and rowboats that Griffin enjoys jumping into ("Zeb and Lars were here."), is not what anyone should call a "good beach."
We had down the coast to Hvidbjerg Strand, which our hosts recommend to us as their best beach, but it proves to be just a narrow rocky strip of coast - and not even pretty-rocky (like England). Sharp and pokey-rocky. Muddy rocky.
And so it's down to Høl, the gorgeous stretch of sandy beach that Pam and I found a few nights back. This is the best beach in town, without a doubt. Maybe the locals are just trying to keep it that way.
The water is super cold. We walk way out in the low tide and it's still only up to our thighs. Rowan, Berit and Pam read on their beach towels, Griffin practices the songs he's been assigned for a camp he's doing when we get back, and I doze.
Sunday, June 28
On Sunday, we headed up to Sculpture by the Sea, an event that happens occurs through the month of June on odd years in which large public art sculptures are erected along Aarhus's southern coast.
It was kinda neato - we liked the huge shipping containers resting atop big puffy pillows. Berit particularly liked the fact that I believed they were resting atop those pillows and not on top of hidden supports. Better than the sculpture however was the people watching and the starfishes that Griffin found in the shallows as he bounded across the boulders that line the coast.
We spent the rest of the afternoon in Moesgard where Pam and I walked the beach for interesting rocks. The water is (still) frigid, but Rowan and Griffin both swam in it, as did I after some wrestling over the matter (literally) with Griffin.
And Griffin built this awesome sand sculpture.
Saturday, June 27
Griffin nixed our mountain biking idea for today, having fallen off of a play structure yesterday and banged up his hip, but we still thought we'd get outside up in the Lake District, an area north of us with rolling hills, beach forests, lakes, rivers and Denmark's highest point (at 171 meters).
We're thinking we'll find a good hike by visiting the tourist office in Silkeborg, but things never go like you plan. We land there in the middle of the Riverboat Festival, complete with throngs and throngs of Danish retirees getting their New Orleans jazz on.
We enjoyed some lattes and crepes and walked around town, where Rowan bought a copy of Scott Westerfeld's Pretties to replace the one she left somewhere in Copenhagen. The shop keeper with the cool star, owl and bird tattoos pointed us to the Almind Sø (It's pronounced like "soot" except without touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth at the end. Go ahead, try it. I'll wait. The word means "lake.") as a nice place to hike around.
The weather, already un-awesome, suddenly turned downright horrible. It rained buckets, cats, dogs and frogs. It came down like a mother. Griffin and I huddled in a shop alcove, and Pam and Rowan and Berit came and rescued us with loaner umbrellas from a sports equipment store. We walked through lakes back to the car.
When we got to the Almind Sø, the rain had let up. I dove in the lake and swam for about ten seconds, as did Rowan and Griffin. We walked around the lake path, singing songs and marveling at the large, black slugs.
Pam is very cool, making breakfast for the kids and sandwiches for lunch while I write this. I've had to spend some time this morning catching up. And I haven't even gotten too Friday yet!
She set the smoke alarm off while cooking the bacon. It was the second time since last night and I'm pretty sure that Tanja and Karsten are right now receiving text messages from their neighbors that the Americans are burning their house down.
Friday, June 26
Today we drove back to the island of Funen to Egeskov Slot (slot = castle), a fantastic 15th century castle complete with moat and drawbridge whose former owner, Count Gregers Ahlefeldt-Laurvig-Bille was one of the best bowhunter's in Denmark (with skill comparable to that of Ted Nugent). The castle's "Deer Room" has Count Greger's trophies (heads), many with the arrow that took down the animal.
The castle and out-building are full of cool collector stuff - there are about a million classic cars and motorcycles, an vast intricate dollhouse that includes the world's smallest working organ, a piece of Marie Antoinette's dress, Dracula's tomb (really not ssure what this is).
We really enjoyed the grounds, though - particularly the treetop walking - spiral staircases that ascend into tall trees and rope walks between the trees. Pam got lost in aa hedge maze, so I went in to find her, losing myself as she came out. According to Rowan, all you need to do is place your right hand on the wall to your right and keep it there as you walk through the maze. I'll test that another time.
Back in Børkop we stop by the roadside vegetable stand and the butchers. We plied young Søren the butcher with questions about the chicken breasts and the sausages. He probably thought we were idiots, but was exceedingly friendly about it. "Chicken" in Danish is "kylling."
We're kylling it.
No comments:
Post a Comment