Hvordan går det?

As promised ...

I have previously (inaccurately) written a couple of phrases in Danish but have since learned more about this complex language. To my Danish friends who read this, my apologies in advance if you are offended by my tongue-in-cheek look from a sometimes frustrated but curious danske sprog studerende. Here are a few (skewed) basics:

1) There are 29 characters in the Danish alphabet. My new friends are (Æ)æ, (Å)å and (Ø)ø. They look cool and take practice.

2) Danish is not German or Dutch. Don't even try.

3) What is written vs. what is said? Completely different animals. A fine example is the word 'meget' whose closest equivilant I can pronounce is the French word 'mal'. It means 'very' as in "I'm very poor at learning this language."

4) There is no "sh" sound. Lyshåret is 'lus-hoerl' and Bronshøj is not, as I was saying for ages 'Bronsh-oi' but rather 'Brawns-hoy'.

5) The letter 'y' is pronounced like a 'u'. Can't fight it and it creeps into other languages for me.

6) I love the word 'ikke'. Slaps the positive out of any phrase. Er det ikke?

7) Some words make me giggle inside like 10 year old (see above photo).



Very friendly ...

Since my arrival here (almost 6 months!), I have had the good fortune to speak English pretty much everywhere I go. I have also been encouraged by people I meet and people I know to speak Danish where I can. They know when I get stuck and let me off the hook most times but like learning any new language, beer helps. There are some that switch to English almost immediately when hearing my accent. But it's not the accent you might think ...

It would seem, from my Scottish/Canadian background, that  have a slight sing-song way of saying things. When a phrase is uttered in my hauntingly melodic voice, I sound Swedish! I have refrained from saying 'Bork'. I thought I was just being teased until a bartender I'd ordered from a couple of times discovered my origins looked surprised and said "I would have sworn you were Swedish". I don't think we really spoke enough for him to discern my native tongue, but still!

And the rest?`

I can read a Swedish menu alright and I can make out the safety instructions on Norwegian Air but I'm happy at that level for now please. Soumi? Nej tak.

Tak for læsning!

Mig og min cykel ...

Hej min venner!

Let me first apologize for not writing anything in 6 weeks (has it been that long really?)! I will endeavour to be more punctual and try to get these out more often. And now that I've said it, I have to do it. Damn.

Denmark is very pro-bicycle. In fact, cycling is encouraged as an alternate means of transportation. There are bike lanes on pretty much every major route and quite a few minor routes as well. Train stations have air pumps, trains have special cars for bikes, cycle stores are choc-a-block and special parking abounds. I can think of at least one major Canadian city that should look to Denmark as an example of how a non-polluting, healthy mode of transport can be integrated into everyday life.

I purchased 'Baby' at the end of April and in May determined that it was a male and not a female as I had at first assumed. Don't ask me how I arrived at this conclusion; get one and ride it for a month. You'll find out.

Baby cost me just over 3700 DKK which works out to about $700 CAD. Cheaper than a car and uses less gas. I've been told that this is an OK price for a new bike (the cheapskate in me was having palpitations when I bought him) and believe me, I've seen much pricier. Once my expenses for the move her have been caught up (very soon) I will start saving for a racing bike for next year's jaunts.

The places I've been ...

What started as an innocent thought (Gosh, what is Charlottenlund like?) has now turned into a weekly obsession. I'm trying to push myself (weather permitting) further each week. Those who know me in Canada can attest to the fact that I was allergic to any form of exercise; cycling has opened new eyes for me. I do this half for exercise and half for tourism. In the photo above, where you see the word Nærum, is a bike path that basically goes through a forest. That's when the itch struck. I did that circle, and then stopped in Lyngby for a latté.  A tradition started. Charlottenlund was very pretty by the way.

My favorite place so far ...

Dragør (pronounced Draa-oor) is an adorable town to the south with a marina, museum, fort, shops and quaint homes that come with a high price tag. My Scottish friends and family will know what I mean when I liken it to Luss. I wandered for hours and enjoyed a damn good coffee by the marina.

Another fun bit was riding the bike down there by the airport and a 727 took off over my head. Very trippy.

The hardest ride ever.

When I finally got on the correct road to Roskilde, I spent most of the ride heading against the wind. Don't ever do this. It felt like going up-hill for 45 km. I stopped about 5 km outside of the town and my legs wanted to quit me. "I am not a quitter!" so after 5 minutes I was back on my ride.

Roskilde is the home of the Viking Museum (for kids really, I just wandered about the grounds with a big ice-cream cone <-- no, not a kid), the Roskilde Domkirke (I'm not translating everything) and my friend Christine. The church is the final resting place of many of the Kings and Queens of Denmark and is not shy about mixing art styles, old and new. I skipped coffee here; I deserved a beer and a litre of Tuborg is what I inadvertently ordered. Oh well, I was taking the train back anyway ...

The longest ride ...

This was something I had never attempted. Riding my bike wearing shorts. Hands up, those not related to me, that have seen me in shorts. OK, you three can put your hands down again. But seriously, this was the longest trek and in the blazing sun to boot!

Køge (my closest pronunciation for you would be Kuea with the vowels fading away at the end) saw me sun burnt and exhausted. I again had to stop for 5 just outside of town and watched as my calf muscles involuntarily twitching. I finally parked my bike at the train station and wandered about this town (one building I saw was erected in 1619!) and enjoyed my libation in the town square. The museum there was about Art in Public Places and you could try to find all the outdoor pieces. Very nice! Back at the train station, I went to buy a ticket, saw the price and said "nuh-uh". I rode back to Greve and took the train home from there but only because my skin was burned, the temperature was going down and I was freezing with the sunburn.

A goal achieved ...

I have always wanted to see Helsingør (since I arrived here that is ...) but when I ventured out this morning, this was NOT my destination. I sometimes get easily turned around (ya, find me a strait road in Denmark) and suddenly found myself heading towards the coast again. "Meh, why not?" and up I went. My previous trip up the coast kept me on the roads with the traffic but this time I found a route that followed the train tracks. Riding through forests and fields, this seemed all downhill.

The rain started about 20 minutes outside of town and when I got there I was soaked and freezing. Kaffe time! Most of my destinations seem to have a town square, statue and church bells ringing (I generally travel on Sundays). The people there have always been nice to me (I make my feeble attempts at speaking Danish) and they always say the same thing to me: "Enjoy your stay in Denmark" as if I was on vacation ... teehee ...

The only thing that has been a bit worrying is my knees. Old knees creak when they're tired but I'll discuss this with my doctor on Wednesday.

Næste gang, sprog!

It's so lovely to be back again in London ...

Panic on the streets of London ...

Easter Saturday in England and we decided to play tourist. The weather was quite cooperative yet again so we took the bus to Oxford St. The crowds! William and Catherine merchandise a-plenty (no longer allowed to call her Kate) and I thought to myself "Did they really OK their picture at the bottom of an ashtray?"

Oh hi Tonia

We wandered for a bit around the shops of Mayfair, popping in and out of places I couldn't afford to shop in until my record deal comes through and resisted the urge to go to Fortnam and Mason but did run into Vivian Westwood's men's shop. There was actually one shirt I really liked but seeing how there was no price tag and a pair of men's boxer-briefs were £55 I thought it best not to ask too much. I was reeling from the famous shops and streets; time to go back to being a tourist.

Pall Mall the week before "The Wedding"

The early warmth this year had seen all flowers in bloom and leaves on the trees. The wedding was still a week away but the barricades were already up and we followed them to Buckingham. The flag was flying over the Palace indicating the Queen was home but as she was surely busy preparing, we didn't bother to knock. We walked for what seemed hours only to turn around and headed towards The Houses of Parliament.

Entrance to Downing St.

I really had no idea that Downing St. was now (and possibly forever) closed to pedestrian foot traffic. Again, Crowds! Knackered, we decided on a late lunch. I refused to be in England and not have Fish 'n Chips in a pub and we found a place just south of Trafalgar Square.

The Olympic countdown clock

We had no idea that we decided to go into the heart of London on St. George's day and were greeted by even more crowds, this time with extra yobs. The free concert had started (meh) and I realized we were outside the National Gallery! I was thrilled to see paintings that I'd only ever seen in books, especially Bathers at Asnieres (look it up) by George Seurat. I bought a fridge magnet replica of it, exactly as the artist intended.

The sky started looking angry and on the way back to the bus stop it started pouring rain. Nothing like a good English rain to remind you you're in the UK. Now drenched, we couldn't find out way to Marble Arch to get the bus. An hour later and I saw the bus pass us by. Nothing to do but go for a pint, but not after bumping into this lady:

In case you can't read it it very well (Blackberrys have 'ok' cameras) it says "Dear Prince William, Please put a stop to this wedding. The people are demanding a natural blonde princess. Please do not go ahead with it."  We made to the bus stop in time for the last bus back and we all slept like the dead.

It's so lovely to be back again in London
I've a glow inside
I simply can't conceal
If I seem too sentimental
It isn't accidental
It's just that that's exactly how I feel
When the tourists crowd the gates
Outside the palace
You may rest assured that I will lead the pack
And should the queen ride by me
I'd holler 'Och! Cor blimey!'
I'm so glad I'm back
Every day I'll make my way down Piccadilly
And I'll shout 'Hello!' to every Joe and Jack
Just to feel the feel of London
I always come all undone
But so glad
So glad
I'm back
Judy Garland

Oh! England, my Lionheart ...

Regent Street in preparation for the Royal Wedding

Whirlwind tour ...

I am unfamiliar with London and its environs so, in error, I chose to land in Gatwick Airport which was possibly the furthest away from my final destination of Hemel Hempstead. The only form of transport not used that day was a boat. I managed to get the express train from Gatwick to Victoria station, then the Underground (Mind The Gap! I bought myself a shot glass to remind me of this) to Euston station and waited over an hour for the train as British rail was claiming switch problems and all trains were delayed (except Virgin trains - pricey!). Finally on the final train to Hemel, I prayed I was on the correct train as there were no announcements for destinations or stops. Some very nice ladies calmed my nervousness and one of them confirmed by banging on the window from outside the train that indeed I was on the correct route.

Arriving at Hemel, I got in a taxi driven by the talented Mr. Khan. I asked about any discounted fares back to the airport on Monday, very early in the morning and we agreed upon a price I had seen on-line. He gave me his mobile number and dropped me off at my final destination at 1am.

St. Albans

Hemel Hempstead is a perfectly fine suburb of London but for a real Olde Englyshe feel, make sure you take a trip to neighboring St. Albans and St Michael's Village. The location has been settled since before 20 BC and was invaded by Romans around 43 AD and named Verulamium. I know this because I went to the museum there and bought a fridge magnet. There was a Roman wall (in ruins of course), a beautiful park and of course ...

St. Alban's Cathedral from the back

This is a cathedral with a LOT of history. It seemed appropriate that we were there on Good Friday but felt that it was better if the heathens waited until mass was over before entering (besides, it's an Anglican church). Walking around the grounds (even in that photo if you look closely) we see that construction was a process over many centuries with different types of construction materials and architectural styles.

Huge. I'm standing quite a distance away and still couldn't fit it in the frame. Just before I took this shot, the choir hit a particularly haunting note, so I guess it's a "you had to be there" kind of moment. Once mass was finished we went inside to see some of the most intricate woodwork and detail as well as some of the original wall paintings ...

I don't think it was very kosher of me to take a picture inside but c'mon, someone has to preserve this kind of thing right? Back outside, the sun was still beaming and so we went-a-huntin' down the pub.

Didn't stop there but it's purported to be the oldest pub in Britain. The historical plaque told us that Cromwell stabled his horses here and spent the night. See how I say nothing about the name? See how I don't compare this to some sketchier bars in Toronto? Oh, wait ...

Then back to Hemel; my cousin Liz was coming down from the Cotswolds (sounds infectious, but it's a region) to take us out for Greek food (delicious!) and some late night catching up.

I'll stop boring you now ... next stop, London!

Oh! England, my Lionheart,
I'm in your garden, fading fast in your arms.
The soldiers soften, the war is over.
The air raid shelters are blooming clover.
Flapping umbrellas fill the lanes--
My London Bridge in rain again.

Oh! England, my Lionheart!
Peter Pan steals the kids in Kensington Park.
You read me Shakespeare on the rolling Thames--
That old river poet that never, ever ends.
Our thumping hearts hold the ravens in,
And keep the tower from tumbling. 
Kate Bush, from the album 'Lionheart' (1978)

Happy Easter!

Five day weekend!

I've been trying to find out if there are any unusual traditions here for Påske but have found nothing different really. Eggs abound (and nicely decorated porcelain or silver ones are hung in windows), chocolate is the norm and I'm sure someone, somewhere is going to church.

Not me. I fly to England tomorrow to see family that in some cases I've not seen for years! I've always loved being in other countries but travelling to them is quite another story. I don't much care for airports and have never been a fan of buses but sadly my budget does not allow for a Chunnel trip at this juncture. I fly into Gatwick, an airport I've never experienced, and from the train/bus schedule at their side, another 2 hour ride awaits me there.

It will be well worth it though; Friday is a trip to St Albans, Saturday is for London (sounds like the title of a romance novel) and Sunday is up in the air (do NOT insert crucifixtion joke here). The money I've saved on this trip just might be eaten up on Monday when I have to be at the airport between 6:30 and 7 (AM, they do that now) so a taxi (£££!) might be the only way to get there in time.

Oh well.

Tomorrow is bag-packing and flying nerves ...

Jeg vil sende billeder snart.

Politically Incorrect

Thanks to Ron L. for showing me this image.

Don't get me started ...

The Canadian government is based on the British Parliamentary system, but with longer lunches and vacations. Canadians are about to cast their vote (again) for a government that will (again) ignore the wishes of the populace and (again) end up with a minority that barely holds on to power. One of the bigger issues will be (I don't want to say again, again) spending. The Harper Government (as they have chosen to call themselves, ignoring the traditional moniker The Canadian Government) is currently under fire for ridiculous spending on the G8 summit and it's more expensive cousin, the G20. The excuse has been to "make Canada look like a player on the world stage" but sadly to its people it seems more like a crooked producer.

I could go on about every expense laid out for these events (example: The Olympic-size Hockey Arena in Huntsville that was never used for the summit, and never intended to be used but was paid for with summit money) but little seems more incredible than the man-made lake.

At a cost of almost $2 million dollars, this artificial lake was created for the media to showcase Canada's natural beauty while the world leaders were hundreds of miles away, by a lake. Canada has lots and lots of lakes, several of them are even considered Great. After this weekend was over, the plug was pulled and the water, along with Canadian tax money, went right down the drain. Another headline that year? Heathcare, education and public service cuts. We looked quite good, but were seriously ailing inside.

Guess who's NOT coming to dinner ...

Tonight in Canada is a debate amongst some of the party leaders. Not invited to the national debate is the Green Party of Canada. This decision was made by the broadcaster of the debate, the once renowned CBC. Is this because, in our heart of hearts, we know that the Green Party will never be elected to run the country in my lifetime? Then why is Gilles Duceppe invited? The Green Party has far more voters in Alberta than the Bloc Québecois, a party that in principle and practice cannot attain the position of Canadian government. Ontario once learned of the anguish of an NDP government, so they're out but Jack Layton will be there ...

The other two are the Devil you know and the Devil you've seen before. Their principle concern is the attainment and retention of power; little is achieved.

I promise I'll be wittier (read sillier and more irreverent) next time. I had to get it out of my system now.

P.S. My team won the bowling tournament!

Godt lykke Canada!

Fredag!!!

So I did it ...

Easter break here is from the Thursday until Monday - no work until that Tuesday. That gave me 5 days off and I wondered how to make the most of it. I decided that the fanciful idea of jetting of to another European destination sounded pretty enticing and went on-line to see what kind of deals where available. Anywhere on the continent would require a hotel stay and added thousands of Kroner to the idea so my sights turned to the UK. I managed to get a flight to London, return, for €265 all taxes included. Barry says this is about the same as Porter from Toronto to Sudbury and London has a lot more to offer!

The only downside is I'm arriving and leaving at Gatwick airport which is to the south; everyone I know in the UK is north so it may be a case of "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" (John Candy, we miss you). I've contacted my mother's sister and she said she would be happy to put me up but I don't want to trouble her too much so I'm trying to contact cousins in the area as well.

I haven't come across ANY Ben Sherman™ retailers so I'll have to make sure the Visa is at the ready!

Team building!!!

For months now the office has been planning a bowling night. Tonight actually so again this entry will be brief because I am completely interested in having a beer and a laugh with the team. There is an Italian buffet before the event but I think I'll skip that and get right to the cocktails. We've met right?

Ønsker mig held og lykke!