Copenhagen Day 2–In Which There are a Great Many Bikes, We Visit the Free State of Christiania, And The Little Mermaid is, Well, A Bit Boring Truth Be Told…

I will admit to struggling at first with this sign that greets you in the baggage claim area of Copenhagen airport.  Really? 31 times around the earth? I did the math. That would mean that every last man, woman, child, baby, pensioner and invalid in the city would need to bike at least two kilometres EVERY DAY. I dismissed this as impossible and put it down to bragging, until I stepped outside the station in Copenhagen.

Well, alright, MAYBE it’s true, I thought to myself.

Then I stepped on to the street where, at 10pm, there were more cyclists than cars. By the next morning I was converted. Coming from my home town of Victoria where a tiny speck of a bike lane has just been installed at great disruption and cost (don’t get me wrong – I love the idea of bike lanes and fully support their installation, just not the way they did it in Victoria) it was refreshing to see a city where everyone rides their bike all the time, everywhere, in bike lanes that are slightly raised above the level of the road, and slightly lower than the sidewalks. It makes it very clear which is which, and everyone coexists just fine without huge concrete curbs and excessive signage. Also, the bike lanes always flow with traffic; if you want to go the other way, you take the other side of the street, or a different road. There are no bike boxes or complicated turning rules. The other difference here is that there is no street parking at all on major roads where there are bike lanes and sidewalks. All parking is relegated to side streets. The parking is also a mish-mash of everyone and anyone, residential and business, and no one cares if you park facing the other way or don’t actually live there, you just park there and everyone gets on with their lives.

Anyway, that’s my rant about bike lanes.

We began our day finding something to eat in a café which was great…

This was me before I got the bill:

Then we got the bill:

And this was me after:

25% tax on EVERYTHING. That’s how they do it here folks.

So it’s 7-11 hotdogs from now on. No, I’m serious.

After recovering from this episode, we made a bee line for the Hop-On-Hop-Off bus, which I always love to do in a new city as it really helps with understanding the layout etc. Plus, It was good for 72 hours, and plus, Zoe and Terra were free so that made up slightly for the $90 lunch. I also tried to rationalize the expense as covering last night’s dinner (which we never had), and also breakfast as it was close to noon when we finally ate.

The bus tour took us past the obligatory stop at the Little Mermaid Statue where we all piled out and took some pictures. I was surprised that there were so many little mermaids and at how tiny they were:

No I’m just kidding. There was only one. Actually there are two but I’ll show you the alternative one tomorrow.

I will admit she does have some whimsical appeal and is actually bigger than I was expecting but still…I’m not sure she’s worth all the hype. The statue is of course based on the story by Hans Christian Andersen, who may well be Denmark’s most famous celebrity. The real story is much different than the Disney knock off; in the real one, she doesn’t get her man, and eventually turn into sea foam. Well she’s almost the right colour for Sea Foam here.

It was more entertaining watching all the other tourists take pictures:

Anyway, back on the bus we finished the full city tour stopping at this fountain and that square where there were more funny tourists entertaining me:

This may be one of my most favourite pictures ever.

The weather was a bit sketchy: sunny one minute and pouring the next but we got off anyway for a wander through the Free State of Christiania which is an area of Copenhagen that was once just abandoned military barracks until a group of citizens broke in and squatted in them. That was in the 1970s and today the place is home to about 1000 people who live by their own set of rules which appeared to me to be like this:

Rule No. 1: Smoke as much pot as possible
Rule No. 2: Sell as much pot as possible from appealing stands with all varieties of pot on display for all to see.
Rule No. 3: Abhor hard drugs and make a point of saying so at every turn.
Rule No. 4: All residents must make at least one piece of public art out of recycled bits and pieces per year.
Rule No. 5: See Rule No. 1

The girls and I were unsuspecting at first and I thought it was going to be a bit more than a glorified dispensary hippie megastore but I soon realized that our feelings of ‘meh’ were mainly because basically, we could just as well have been walking around Hornby Island, or Saltpsring Island, or anywhere in BC, and we all felt like we’d already seen all this many times before.

Still it was an interesting way to pass the time. I was taking pictures left and right until Terra pointed out that there was a ‘no photos’ policy:

Rule No. 6: None of this is really happening and there will be a‘no photos allowed’ rule to support this.

I may have sneaked a few more but I did stop.

Back on the bus it was a bit rainy.

We were a bit tired so we picked up some groceries for dinner and breakfasts and headed home for a night in of watching Downton Abbey from the beginning. So good!

Days are long here in Denmark at the 56th parallel but I was so tired that I fell asleep to the sound of birds still twittering away and sun coming through the window.

Planks for kneeling,

Cheers,

Jane

UK Day 12 and Denmark Day 1: In Which We Say Goodbye to Travis and London, I Have a Few Suggestions for England, and We Arrive in Copenhagen

We spent most of today getting ready to leave London and fly to Denmark. Travis left early for his flight to Portugal and we will admit to spending a portion of the morning moping around after he left. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much in years as I have on this trip.

After packing up and leaving our apartment we went for a final wander around Soho and Covent Garden where I dragged everyone to the House of MinaLima to see an exhibition of the works of the two graphic designers responsible for all the graphics in the Harry Potter movies.

 

There is an astounding amount of detail in these works, including the Marauder’s Map which was on display as well as Harry’s acceptance letter in to Hogwarts.

We spent our final hours shopping before heading back to the apartment to get our bags and then the train to Heathrow. I used to hate flying into Heathrow but since they have opened the new international terminal, it’s much better. The ceiling is no longer two inches above one’s head and they have added another set of washrooms. Well done! The food services are still a bit weird:

Before we go to Denmark, I have a short list of some observations about the UK for England to read when she has a few minutes to put her feet up with a cup of tea:

• We know about the gap now. Thanks.
• There really is nothing to be afraid of when it comes to ventilation and extraction fans.
• Steaming doesn’t seem to work as a way to dry clothes.
• If you build your roads a bit wider it won’t be as necessary for people to drive into hedges while trying to get past each other. Consider the badgers.
• Have you tried not mushing up your peas. They are very good steamed. Perhaps you could put them in the dryer?
• Why not just scrap Brexit as it seems to be causing you all a bit of bother.
• Re: Prince Harry – well done!
• Re: Tea, Cadbury’s chocolate, cream teas, the countryside, London, your accents, curry shops, proper pubs, the National Trust, stately homes, castles, eccentric villagers, Monty Python, and the BBC, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

After sliding into a slight depression about having to leave England, we boarded our flight to Copenhagen on SAS, otherwise known as Such a Shit Airline.  We arrived late in the evening, took the train in to Copenhagen and walked to our apartment which we all instantly fell in love with.

We finally fell into bed at about midnight after a found dinner of peanuts, almonds and cheese.

More tomorrow!

Thanks for reading,

Cheers,

Jane

UK Day 11– That Time We Were In A Political Protest March, Went to a Circus, And Had Dinner at The Cheshire Cheese

I have long wanted to spend Canada Day in London. Canada House, on Trafalgar Square, usually puts on quite a party and this year’s was meant to be even bigger than usual due to the Canada 150 hoopla. We arrived at Trafalgar Square with great anticipation but ended up arriving early (for once in our lives). Fortunately the National Gallery is also on Trafalgar Square and is free so I dragged everyone in for a quick 30 min Potter’s Tour of the Galleries where we enjoyed observing how certain artists seem capable only of one face, no matter who they are painting:



No wonder she looks so annoyed – she looks just like her husband.

These three were definitely not expecting the painter when he showed up.

We also had a Ferris Bueller moment, of course, until it was time to make our appearance for Canada 150.
London is definitely on high alert after all the incidents here, but no one here lets any of that stop them. Apart from barriers that have been installed on bridges between the sidewalks and the roads, and a few more police and soldiers on the streets, the city is as full of people and as alive as ever. That said, huge public gatherings still cause a bit of concern for everyone and so we all felt very reassured when a disinterested looking security guard basically waggled his baby finger in our bags and waved us on.
Inside the square, it quickly became apparent that the place was doing its best, but not really succeeding. I had a bit of a sinking feeling as I looked around and saw what seemed to be a showcase for Canadian businesses rather than a celebration of Canada. It’s always interesting to see how other countries view your own country and I guess I was hoping for a little more than just hockey, poutine and maple-scented toilet paper. No I’m just kidding about the toilet paper. Around the square, booths were set up with banners saying things like ‘Nanaimo Bars The Original’.

What exactly are Nanaimo Bars The Original? I will admit to buying some but when they offered me a choice of peanut butter or original I had to say something:
Paul: Will it be plain or Peanut Bootah
Me: Oh, what? Did you say Peanut Butter and Nanaimo Bars in the same sentence?
Paul: Sorry wot?
Me: It’s just that Peanut Butter and Nanaimo Bars don’t go together. That’s like, terrible.
Paul: So just plain then?
Me: Yes please.
Me again (feeling pleased with myself): I live an hour and half from Nanaimo
Paul (over the din): You wot?
Me: I LIVE CLOSE TO NANAIMO. ME. CLOSE TO NANAIMO. WHERE THE BARS ARE FROM.
Paul: Just on one o’clock, I should think.
Me: NO I’M TELLING YOU I LIVE NEAR NANAIMO. WHERE NANAIMO BARS ARE MADE.
Paul: ‘Ave a luvly time won’t you. Next!
Me: Have you even heard of Canada?
There was also a ‘Canadian Wild Blueberries’ tent (which of course they aren’t, unless you consider Abbotsford ‘wild’),  the requisite poutine tent with a line that went around Trafalgar Square, waffles with syrup (are we known for our waffles?) and a beer tent selling Sleemans and A&W Root Beer, which I also didn’t realize was Canadian… On stage there was someone who was obviously once Canadian but has clearly spent just enough time in the UK to acquire that annoying faux-English accent to which Canadians seem especially susceptible.

We walked around for a few minutes, then had a collective realization that, really, we would prefer to experience London over this half-baked take on our beloved country. We took a half-hearted selfie and buggered off.

Zoe and Terra had arranged to meet their school friend Abbey in the afternoon and with a couple o hours to kill before then we wandered over to Piccadilly circus. At one point while simultaneously crossing the street and trying not to get hit by a bus, I was distracted by a crew filming what looked very much like a Bollywood star doing a song and dance routine in the middle of the crosswalk. I’m pretty sure I stood there long enough that I am in the entire scene. I considered offering my services as a dancer but another bus was bearing down so I reluctantly crossed to the sidewalk but not before taking this picture. So if you are watching a Bollywood movie with a man in a dashing brown jacket and not-matching blue turban dancing through an intersection in Piccadilly Circus, be sure to look for me in the background.

We had also heard that Miranda Hart, aka Chummy from Call the Midwife, is starring as Ms. Hannigan in a west end production of Annie. I thought I would try and get tickets at the theatre but there was only one single seat left which I considered, but that seemed a bit mean. When I made my way back to the others they were engrossed in a scene unfolding across the street, which had been closed off by motorcycle police. It turned out to be one of the largest protest marches against the governing Tory (or Conservative) party since the election in May. Tens of thousands strong, it passed right by us as we stood, slightly trapped, on a pedestrian island in the middle of the road. Of course, it didn’t take long for someone to pass me a sign which I gave to Travis, and before long, we were all singing “Oh Jeremy Corbyn” with the rest of the crowd.

We had to leave after ten minutes as the girls were meeting Abbey, but I heard later that it went on forever.

Our meeting place was to be the Southbank Centre across the river but Abbey caught up with us while we were crossing the street and after hugs all round, I was too busy taking out my camera for a photo of the three of them to notice that they had already left. I’m sorry, Elsie, I was going to surprise you with a picture but I was too slow. Abbey looks great, by the way!

Travis and I were on our own for a couple of hours and we used that time to check out the Underbelly Festival playing Bankside. We were lucky enough to catch a small circus troupe from Quebec, FlipFabriQue, who were performing at the festival. These guys are nothing short of amazing and if you ever have the chance to see them, you must go. Travis and I were blown away – it was a great way to celebrate Canada on Canada Day after the disappointment of Trafalgar Square.

We hung around the festival bar after where again we were reminded of the many uses for Astro-Turf.

Travis may or may not have guzzled a large Pimm’s.

After meeting up with the girls (where I again failed to get a picture of the three of them as Abbey had to go), we set out for a roof-top terrace located beside St.Paul’s Cathedral that we had heard was the place to go for great views of St.Paul’s and around London.

It was hot up there and we were all blinking in the sunshine like bats out of a cave. But the views were fantastic and there was a great vibe up there as part of the terrace was given over to a huge party with a DJ and the whole works. Never a dull moment in this town.

A couple of years ago I had heard about a pub in this neighbourhood that had been there since the 1600’s in one form or another and had been a favourite haunt of many of London’s great literary figures over the years including Charles Dickens, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Dr. Jonson, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Mark Twain etc. The trouble was that I could not remember the name. So I dragged everyone up and down Fleet Street going in and out of pubs until one of us suggested The Cheshire Cheese. Of course that was it and in we went.

There was no room upstairs and so we descended down the narrow winding steps to the cellar/dungeon where many little rooms with absolutely no natural light were filled with people tucking in to plates of food and large pints of lager or ale. We soon joined them and ordered our own plates of bangers and mash, and fish and chips. The girls also got into the spirit with Terra ordering a cider, and Zoe getting into a lager shandy. It was an extremely authentic experience and I loved every second of it. I could just imagine Charles Dickens down here finishing up a steak and kidney pie while penning the pages of a Tale of Two Cities, or Yeats and his crew swilling their way through pint after pint hoping the muse would visit.

I finally agreed to leave and we made our way back up into the light. It still felt early to us as we made our way up town to Covent Garden and Leicester Square where we decided to see the move Baby Driver. We were once again early and so sat and people-watched for half an hour during which time a fellow showed up with a huge amp and started playing dance songs for whoever wanted to dance. Refreshingly, he wasn’t asking for money and there was soon a huge crowd gathered around. After some encouragement/badgering, Travis joined in and danced up a storm. We were enjoying the moment too much to film the whole dance number but Zoe got the last few seconds.

The movie, which was somewhat relentless in its assault on the senses but still worth seeing, was our last act of the day and we were an exhausted bunch when we staggered into bed around midnight.
More tomorrow as we leave London and fly to Copenhagen, sadly without Travis, but with great excitement.
Shanks for heaving,
Beers,
Jane

UK Day 10 (?)- In Which There are Bollocks, Bankside is The Best, and Badger is Alive

Sometimes the best laid plans go astray and that is what happened to us today.

I see I’m a poet and I don’t even know it
If I had the time, I’d do this all in rhyme

Maybe I’ll try but please give me some slack
Over each line I promise my brain I will rack

For the best way to show you what happened today
The may be more pictures, it will be easier that way.

We started the morning heading east on the train
Happy that for once, there wasn’t any rain.

Our destination, Canary Wharf, is a financial centre
With giant skyscrapers and not much room for a tenter.

The Tesla dealership was right in our path
I wanted this car until I did the math

At 85K sterling for a self-driving car
The 300 mile range would only take me so far.

On the agenda was also a visit to The Space
But long story short, we didn’t get to that place.

If you’ve watched Call the Midwife you will also know
About Poplar, where we had planned to go.

We wandered the off-ramps to Poplar High Street
But to put it quite bluntly, it wasn’t that neat

There were no midwives on bikes their capes billowing behind
We searched for Chummy and Nurse Crane but no evidence could we find.

So we buggered off back to the financial hub
While Travis went off about capitalist thugs.

We walked the rich streets searching for our way
But a snit overcame us and threatened the day.

I’m not quite certain but I think all the folk
on the bus may heard Travis say ‘What a F%^&ing joke!”

So we aborted our missions and made different plans
This one involved an overheard tram.

I feel certain this will be the one and only time
That I fly Emirates Air, I said with a whine.

But the view of London and over the river
Made up for the snit and we fell out of our dither

Upon landing we walked to the river bank
and waited for our boat, hoping it hadn’t sank. (sorry)

Our skiff took us quickly to the town of Greenwich
Where we saw the Prime Meridian without a hitch.

The Cutty Sark is also there at the end of the road
She was the fastest ship and carried tea as her load.

Travis also found a stall selling vinyl
Sex pistols? I said but on Simple Minds he was final.

There was also a stall selling mugs of the Royal Family
Zoe and I tried in vain to find one of Prince Harry

He’s everyone’s favourite over here, especially Travis
Who hopes for, one day, a wedding most lavish.

Our next stop was Bankside, one of my favourite London places
Full of theatres and cafes and happy smiling faces.

This fellow photo-bombed my picture and then offered me his beer
I politely declined but appreciated his cheer.

That night we had tickets for The Wind in the Willows
A musical written by Downton Abbey’s Julian Fellows.

There was Ratty and Toad and Mole and Mrs. Otter
And even the character of Mrs. Otter’s daughter

There were weasels and stoats and hedgehogs and mice
And Badger was not dead on the road, which was nice.

We ended the evening with a late dinner of noodles
With Travis’ cousin Naomi who trains poodles

Just kidding she’s actually a flight attendant for British Airways
Who was heading to Johannesburg for the next four days

We then walked home and Terra checked her pedometer
We had all walked a whopping 19 kilometres!

It was bedtime for us and we we had a busy next day
And that, my friends, is all I have to say.

More tomorrow!

Cranks for gleaming,

Cheers,

Jane

UK Day 963–In Which We Spot Boris Johnson, Buy All the Tea At Harrods, and Shop. A lot.

I’ve walked past the Houses of Parliament in London many times, but had never gone inside, until today. Politics are almost always extremely entertaining and interesting in the UK, and never more so than right now (although Charles I may argue with that) what with Brexit and a hung parliament and Boris Johnson all in the mix, this seemed like a good time to check out a debate and tour the building. I emailed ahead and got the low down from the very helpful Sophie who told us when and where to arrive. We dutifully showed up at the prescribed time in the morning and, after some intense airport-like security screening including x-ray machines  and metal detectors and ‘Visitor’ tags, we were in. I cannot describe in words the enormous scale and magnificence of of these buildings but suffice to say they rival any I have been in in this remarkable city and I can’t believe I have never been before.

After more security, I was given a laminated green sign that said “Gallery” on it, which I proceeded to wave above my head while walking, tour-guide style, and calling out “This way, please” with the aim of annoying/embarrassing Zoe and Terra as much as possible. I feel it is my parental duty to do this sort of thing from time to time just to keep it real for the girls.

A final round of security required us to give up our bags and phones and sign a piece of paper stating that we would not applaud or yell out things while we were in the viewing chamber while the MPs were debating. Travis had a bit of trouble with this but managed to keep it together. We were then ushered into the viewing gallery where a thick wall of class separated us from the House below. From our perspective, the Tories were on the left and Labour on the right. Neither Jeremy Corbyn nor Theresa May were in attendance, but that didn’t seem to matter much. We all sat entranced for the next 30 minutes while the two sides asked questions and debated private members’ bills. The repartee and witty banter was a joy to behold and a sharp contrast to the drivel that we have become used to hearing from certain other world leaders. At one point during a discussion about cyber-bullying the Speaker of the House stood up and made a joke about how Boris Johnson had been mercilessly teased online but mostly about his hair. Mr. Johnson was present at the time and much raucous laughter ensued. Another time, Labour referenced the 20th anniversary of Harry Potter and then cast the ‘Expelliarmus’ spell on the entire Tory house. But the best was the Scottish National Party who hurled insult after insult and tore a strip off the Tories for their plan to form a coalition with the Democratic Union Party of Northern Island in order to stay in power, referring to it as a ‘Zombie government in a minority wasteland’. It was a treat to be there and we didn’t really want to leave but the rest of London was calling. Specifically, Harrods Tea department

Both Travis and I are serious tea drinkers and so we spent quite some time there, smelling the various teas and generally being high-maintenance.

Next up was a wander through Hyde Park towards Kensington Palace where all of us were hoping to catch site of Prince Harry in his ‘cottage’ on the grounds of Kensington Palace. Instead, we caught site of the ice-cream truck. We really need to bring the tradition of adding Cadbury Flake bars to ice cream in Canada. It’s so good!

The girls were really wanting to do some shopping so Oxford Circus was our next destination. This is a great high-energy area of London full of shops and interesting things to see including Carnaby Street.

I found a new store this time, a chocolate emporium with the fantastic name of ChoccyWoccyDooDah. Everything here is made of chocolate and upstairs is an extraordinary little café that serves a selection of unreal chocolate cakes, some a foot high. Prince was playing at 11 and the bathroom was entirely carpeted in AstroTurf. Also, they make wedding cakes like this one. Nice.

We scarfed down our 200th piece of cake and some delicious French lemonade before rolling out of there to find Hamley’s toys, where we must go every time we come to London. There is an entire floor devoted to Star Wars but I must say I was disappointed. What, for example, is this?

That, my friends, is not Chewbacca. Nope. No. And yes, it is supposed to be. Sad!

We shopped for another couple of hours until Travis and I put our collective feet down and demanded a return to the apartment so we could get dinner, it by then being close to 8pm. I think Zoe and Terra would probably still be there, roaming the racks at H&M with armfuls of clothing, eyes glazing over as they mechanically try on each pair of shoes in the place.

Ravi Shankar’s was our destination of choice for dinner and it was once again the most delicious thing I’ve ever had. I don’t remember much after that…

Banks for kleeping,

Cheers,

Jane