I have to begin with a word about the loveliness of the weinerbrød. It's what the rest of the world calls a Danish, but here they are weinerbrød, which is way too fun to say. They are so much better than at home. The pastry stuff is flaky and crumbly, more like a croissant, but still buttery and not very sweet. I found one today that is like pecan pie, but in Danish form. So insanely good. I've had one sort of one a day, and I will get one in the morning before I get on the train. Mmmmm, weinerbrød...
Today I went train hopping. First I went north, to Helsingør to see Kronborg Slot. It's the castle that served as the setting for Hamlet, and it is so cool- perched right on the water, overlooking Sweden. It's a gorgous castle, with all kinds of cool tunnels and casements running underneath. I also found it really interesting - yesterday at the Nationalmuseet, there was a lot on the expected close relationship between Denmark and Norway and Sweden, but today I noticed that most of the fine arts in the castle were courtesy of the Dutch and the Belgian. Also, I guess as some sort of art outreach thing? I don't know, but there was all kinds of contemporary art installations throughout. It was sort of strange to have these mega-modern paintings in the royal portrait gallery, and some of the video installations were downright distracting.
In the afternoon, I went south and straight on to Sweden to visit Malmo. It's just on the other side of the bridge from Denmark, right on the water. It's a pretty charming town, but it didn't need more than an afternoon. Even though there were people about, it somehow seemed quieter, and after wandering around for a few hours, I didn't feel like there was much there that Copenhagen didn't have. Also, it does seem like Sweden - or Malmo at least - has way more American fast food going for it. In addition to the McDonald's and Burger King, there were KFCs and Subways. They may have them in Copenhagen too, but they are way less obvious. The beach was really nice, though!
I don't know when this turned into straight travel commentary of what I've done, but I feel very under pressure to get in, blog, get out with the free internet at the hostel. I will try to be more interesting later, I promise.
June 06, 2008
wonderful copenhagen
Is there some sort of recent baby boom in Denmark? The sheer number of cyclists is really rivaled only by the number of little under-twos riding around in their little buggies. Seriously, so many wheels to dodge as a pedestrian.
Copenhagen is juuuuust slightly big to be a true walking city, so even though I slept long and well last night, I am beat again after a whole day of walking around. But far more coherent, and loving the friendly, easygoing feel to this city.
Of course, I realize I am getting a skewed view by the fact that I am getting the most perfect weather ever to be had in Perfectville, but still, Copenhagen is a fascinating mix of old architecture and brand-gleaming-modern, the population is very lively, and there are the picturesque canals everywhere that I am obsessed with, as you can tell from my pictures.
I went to the botanic gardens today,and then did my one-two of culture with the National Gallery and the National Museum (or Nationalmuseet. Hee! I love Danish.) The latter was really cool - everything from Viking displays (of course) to artifacts collected by kings over decades of world exploration (Greenland Eskimo celebration wear, a replica of a Korean house, Polynesian ceremonial robes...) to a Danish history in artifacts from 1660-2000. Really fascinating afternoon.
I also went to the little island off the city center, Christianhavn, and saw the "freetown" of Christiania, a hippie alternative-living enclave that's been living alternatively since the 70s. Walked down, I kid you not, Pusherstreet (subtle with their interests, huh?) where I Just Said No (actually, I wasn't offered at all. Apparently there's been crackdowns since a more conservative government came in.) and into the free living commune. Reminded myself that I am not a free living commune type, and was glad I was just visiting.
I learned some other things too, like the Danes are as gaga over H&M as I am, which makes it seem that much more authentic, and that this is the first country I've been to that really does not make peanut butter. Also, apparently, hot dogs on the street and schwerma are the national street foods, confusingly.
One more day in Denmark, and that's it. So sad!
Copenhagen is juuuuust slightly big to be a true walking city, so even though I slept long and well last night, I am beat again after a whole day of walking around. But far more coherent, and loving the friendly, easygoing feel to this city.
Of course, I realize I am getting a skewed view by the fact that I am getting the most perfect weather ever to be had in Perfectville, but still, Copenhagen is a fascinating mix of old architecture and brand-gleaming-modern, the population is very lively, and there are the picturesque canals everywhere that I am obsessed with, as you can tell from my pictures.
I went to the botanic gardens today,and then did my one-two of culture with the National Gallery and the National Museum (or Nationalmuseet. Hee! I love Danish.) The latter was really cool - everything from Viking displays (of course) to artifacts collected by kings over decades of world exploration (Greenland Eskimo celebration wear, a replica of a Korean house, Polynesian ceremonial robes...) to a Danish history in artifacts from 1660-2000. Really fascinating afternoon.
I also went to the little island off the city center, Christianhavn, and saw the "freetown" of Christiania, a hippie alternative-living enclave that's been living alternatively since the 70s. Walked down, I kid you not, Pusherstreet (subtle with their interests, huh?) where I Just Said No (actually, I wasn't offered at all. Apparently there's been crackdowns since a more conservative government came in.) and into the free living commune. Reminded myself that I am not a free living commune type, and was glad I was just visiting.
I learned some other things too, like the Danes are as gaga over H&M as I am, which makes it seem that much more authentic, and that this is the first country I've been to that really does not make peanut butter. Also, apparently, hot dogs on the street and schwerma are the national street foods, confusingly.
One more day in Denmark, and that's it. So sad!
June 05, 2008
onward and northward
I am so tired right now, I could happily keel over and not budge. For the record, it is 7:22pm local time.
In my defense, this is how my last several hours went: After spending the day wandering Galway, I went to see an evening movie (Indy 4; ugh), got out about 10, came back to the hostel, packed my souvenirs and things into my backpack, went to the bus station to catch the midnight bus to the Dublin airport, and slept on the bus for about 3 hours in transit. Sigh.
At the airport, I waited around a bit, called my mom very briefly, waited some more, checked in for my flight, went to my gate and curled up on two adjacent chairs for another hour of sleep. Sigh.
We boarded the plane, and I presume the flight went well, but I slept through both hours of it. Sigh.
But then I was jazzed, because I was exhausted and unshowered, but I am in Copenhagen. For several years, I have been inexplicably but unwaveringly entranced with going to Scandinavia, and I am finally here.
After doing a bunch of dull logistical stuff - customs, reserving train travel for the rest of my time here, finding the hostel, getting settled, getting changed, eating a Danish, all the important things - I hit the town. I basically did a big ol' walking tour of the city, getting to some of the highlights; the rest will have to wait until tomorrow.
Copenhagen is gorgous. It helped that the weather was perfect and that today is a holiday, so all the locals were out enjoying the day. The city has awesome architecture everywhere, both old and new, and makes the most of its green space and waterfront wherever it can. The Danes are supremely gorgeous people, too, unsurprisingly, with phenominal fashion sense. It's as or more expensive as I was braced for, and pretty quick you just have to give up fighting and pay the $4 for a soda and put it up to the experience.
Everyone travels on bikes; I have never seen so many, and I am jealous. People are really friendly, and it seems to be a much younger population than I was expecting somehow. Lots of young families with babies about - and charmingly, all of the babies were in old-fashioned lay-down buggies. Adorable! There are cobblestone streets, and there is evidently an obsession with ice cream, and all the shops make the waffle cones fresh, so the smell wafts out to get me.
I am so exhausted, though, that I can't be much more coherent than that. Tomorrow is more wandering, and ultimately, hopefully more sense.
In my defense, this is how my last several hours went: After spending the day wandering Galway, I went to see an evening movie (Indy 4; ugh), got out about 10, came back to the hostel, packed my souvenirs and things into my backpack, went to the bus station to catch the midnight bus to the Dublin airport, and slept on the bus for about 3 hours in transit. Sigh.
At the airport, I waited around a bit, called my mom very briefly, waited some more, checked in for my flight, went to my gate and curled up on two adjacent chairs for another hour of sleep. Sigh.
We boarded the plane, and I presume the flight went well, but I slept through both hours of it. Sigh.
But then I was jazzed, because I was exhausted and unshowered, but I am in Copenhagen. For several years, I have been inexplicably but unwaveringly entranced with going to Scandinavia, and I am finally here.
After doing a bunch of dull logistical stuff - customs, reserving train travel for the rest of my time here, finding the hostel, getting settled, getting changed, eating a Danish, all the important things - I hit the town. I basically did a big ol' walking tour of the city, getting to some of the highlights; the rest will have to wait until tomorrow.
Copenhagen is gorgous. It helped that the weather was perfect and that today is a holiday, so all the locals were out enjoying the day. The city has awesome architecture everywhere, both old and new, and makes the most of its green space and waterfront wherever it can. The Danes are supremely gorgeous people, too, unsurprisingly, with phenominal fashion sense. It's as or more expensive as I was braced for, and pretty quick you just have to give up fighting and pay the $4 for a soda and put it up to the experience.
Everyone travels on bikes; I have never seen so many, and I am jealous. People are really friendly, and it seems to be a much younger population than I was expecting somehow. Lots of young families with babies about - and charmingly, all of the babies were in old-fashioned lay-down buggies. Adorable! There are cobblestone streets, and there is evidently an obsession with ice cream, and all the shops make the waffle cones fresh, so the smell wafts out to get me.
I am so exhausted, though, that I can't be much more coherent than that. Tomorrow is more wandering, and ultimately, hopefully more sense.
June 04, 2008
diet coke: ireland
i can't believe i forgot to post this before now!
ok, so the tragic has happened, that i honestly don't know if i remember what the real diet coke tastes like anymore, if i remember the nuances of that liquid joy, to be able to describe why, precisely, this isn't it. but it's not, quite.
well, first, good on ireland for ousting the 'coca cola light' crap, because if greece taught us anything, it's that light =/= diet.
as far as i can tell, though, the diet coke of ireland - all of which i have had from a fountain, by the way - is like a less carbonated, less flavorful, less potent version of the real thing. not watered down, mind you, just like real american diet coke had been like, turned into a shade version of itself.
but it's been months and months, and the thing is, this diet coke is eminently drinkable. it's not the real thing (like the 'burrito' i had in galway was really just mexicanISH) but at this point, i take what i can get.
ok, so the tragic has happened, that i honestly don't know if i remember what the real diet coke tastes like anymore, if i remember the nuances of that liquid joy, to be able to describe why, precisely, this isn't it. but it's not, quite.
well, first, good on ireland for ousting the 'coca cola light' crap, because if greece taught us anything, it's that light =/= diet.
as far as i can tell, though, the diet coke of ireland - all of which i have had from a fountain, by the way - is like a less carbonated, less flavorful, less potent version of the real thing. not watered down, mind you, just like real american diet coke had been like, turned into a shade version of itself.
but it's been months and months, and the thing is, this diet coke is eminently drinkable. it's not the real thing (like the 'burrito' i had in galway was really just mexicanISH) but at this point, i take what i can get.
farewell ireland
Today was my last day in Galway, and I've spent it mostly wandering about. I went on a lovely coastal walk from Galway to the resort suburb of Salthill on the wonderful bike/walking promenade they have right on the sea, and while it would have been an even prettier walk if it had been, say, sunny like it has been most of the week, I can't begrudge the super-Irish rainy cloudy weather I did have. It was still lovely.
I don't quite know why I like Ireland so much; it's not just difficult to put into words, but it's hard for me to even tell. Part of what I like are the same things I liked so much about New Zealand - friendly people, lovely countryside, ease of travel, charming scenery, lots to see and do, but a really easygoing feel as well. Cute little towns, liveable cities, a climate that I weirdly really like, a great accent to boot. But somehow it's more than that.
Maybe it's just that Ireland takes what I already liked - the quaint Britishness that appeals to me on a very basic level (I've long since had this weird fascination with living in London, which I credit mostly to reading too much British chick lit. So really, it's not that I want to live in London, I want to live in British chick lit. Sort of how I loved living in New York, but I REALLY wanted to live in 1940s film noir New York. I would have made a stupendous dame.) - and combines it with an approachability and an ease that I have grown to appreciate. Recent years and my travels have given me a newfound like of coutnryside and population sparsity, so Ireland is a good combination of the urban and the twee widdle village worlds. So far, Cork is probably the favorite city that I've seen in Ireland, and I would go back there in a heartbeat. But really, what I would love to do is come back some day when I have a valid driver's license and go explore the parts of the country (read: most of it) that you can't get to via public transit or bus tours.
There is something about the Irish, though, that I just don't fit in with. Primarily, it is that I don't drink beer. I would like to think that this is not a problem, but let's be honest: all the shops and everything closes at 5 or 6. People eat dinner at 6. It stays light in the summer until like 10. What is there to do in between? Judging by the storefronts, there's lots of pubs, smoking, and bookmaking. The Irish like their vice, clearly, but it's not MY vice. It's a mix of the old Catholic values and the listless urban ones, and somehow I fit in with neither.
Even so, as far as it goes, there is little better than biking along the Irish countryside. Can't beat that.
I don't quite know why I like Ireland so much; it's not just difficult to put into words, but it's hard for me to even tell. Part of what I like are the same things I liked so much about New Zealand - friendly people, lovely countryside, ease of travel, charming scenery, lots to see and do, but a really easygoing feel as well. Cute little towns, liveable cities, a climate that I weirdly really like, a great accent to boot. But somehow it's more than that.
Maybe it's just that Ireland takes what I already liked - the quaint Britishness that appeals to me on a very basic level (I've long since had this weird fascination with living in London, which I credit mostly to reading too much British chick lit. So really, it's not that I want to live in London, I want to live in British chick lit. Sort of how I loved living in New York, but I REALLY wanted to live in 1940s film noir New York. I would have made a stupendous dame.) - and combines it with an approachability and an ease that I have grown to appreciate. Recent years and my travels have given me a newfound like of coutnryside and population sparsity, so Ireland is a good combination of the urban and the twee widdle village worlds. So far, Cork is probably the favorite city that I've seen in Ireland, and I would go back there in a heartbeat. But really, what I would love to do is come back some day when I have a valid driver's license and go explore the parts of the country (read: most of it) that you can't get to via public transit or bus tours.
There is something about the Irish, though, that I just don't fit in with. Primarily, it is that I don't drink beer. I would like to think that this is not a problem, but let's be honest: all the shops and everything closes at 5 or 6. People eat dinner at 6. It stays light in the summer until like 10. What is there to do in between? Judging by the storefronts, there's lots of pubs, smoking, and bookmaking. The Irish like their vice, clearly, but it's not MY vice. It's a mix of the old Catholic values and the listless urban ones, and somehow I fit in with neither.
Even so, as far as it goes, there is little better than biking along the Irish countryside. Can't beat that.
June 02, 2008
irish countryside
Well, my plan worked.
Even though the Celtic ruins here are the most impressive thing to see and do on the island, I didn't do them when I got here. Instead, I waited a day, and took off early this morning. My theory was to get there before the first ferry arrived from the mainland, and before the subsequent tour buses and fleets of rental bikes could make it to the road. It worked great.
First, can I just say that I am really lucky Inishmor is so small? I mean, clearly there are not exactly gridworks of roads here, right, for the 800 inhabitants? There are essentially two roads, both unnamed: the main road and the coast road. You can tell if you veer from one of those because it is no longer paved. Fair enough. I found the coast road easy enough, but was unable to find the main road yesterday. I got directions, but still couldn't find it heading out of town, but there was the sea right there, so how could I complain? On the way back yesterday, though, I did find a different road, much more suburban, so I could safely say I had found the two roads on the island.
Yeah, no. They were the same road. But the fog had come in yesterday afternoon to such an extent that I couldn't see the sea right there, so the entire place suddenly looks very different. I am very directionally challenged. Also, it turns out that those two roads were both the main road; only today did I successfully hang a right and find the coast road.
And this cool, foggy, overcast morning was a lovely one to be tooling down the coast road in the Irish countryside. I passed the seal colony and rock walls and old stone ruins and loved it all. And when I got to Dun Aengus, I was literally the only one there. It is perched at the top of some cliffs, these Celtic stone semicircle that drop off on one end to these sheer, sheer rock walls to the water below. It's oddly quiet up there, and the wind sort of stops once you are inside, and being all alone meant that it became sort of otherworldly quiet and solitary. It was a magnificent morning.
Even though the Celtic ruins here are the most impressive thing to see and do on the island, I didn't do them when I got here. Instead, I waited a day, and took off early this morning. My theory was to get there before the first ferry arrived from the mainland, and before the subsequent tour buses and fleets of rental bikes could make it to the road. It worked great.
First, can I just say that I am really lucky Inishmor is so small? I mean, clearly there are not exactly gridworks of roads here, right, for the 800 inhabitants? There are essentially two roads, both unnamed: the main road and the coast road. You can tell if you veer from one of those because it is no longer paved. Fair enough. I found the coast road easy enough, but was unable to find the main road yesterday. I got directions, but still couldn't find it heading out of town, but there was the sea right there, so how could I complain? On the way back yesterday, though, I did find a different road, much more suburban, so I could safely say I had found the two roads on the island.
Yeah, no. They were the same road. But the fog had come in yesterday afternoon to such an extent that I couldn't see the sea right there, so the entire place suddenly looks very different. I am very directionally challenged. Also, it turns out that those two roads were both the main road; only today did I successfully hang a right and find the coast road.
And this cool, foggy, overcast morning was a lovely one to be tooling down the coast road in the Irish countryside. I passed the seal colony and rock walls and old stone ruins and loved it all. And when I got to Dun Aengus, I was literally the only one there. It is perched at the top of some cliffs, these Celtic stone semicircle that drop off on one end to these sheer, sheer rock walls to the water below. It's oddly quiet up there, and the wind sort of stops once you are inside, and being all alone meant that it became sort of otherworldly quiet and solitary. It was a magnificent morning.
June 01, 2008
days of beauty
On the one hand, now that my time is my own again and internet is cheap and supah-fast, one would think that I would be more diligent about updating my blog. One would THINK. But a lot of places I am staying just give free internet, but only for a short while, so I have fallen a bit behind. Whoops!
Anyway, on Friday morning, I hopped on a bus and headed from Cork to Galway, all the way on the west coast. Its a small town, even smaller than Cork, but just as adorable and cute and loveable, so of course I am charmed and just as happy as I have been the whole time in Ireland. All Irish cities (perhaps by law? I am not sure) are on a river -Dublin is on the Liffey, Cork on the Lee and Galway is no exception, on the Corrib, and do not ask me how to pronounce that. But it's also on the Atlantic, and has this fantastic park with a bike and running path along a marshy coastline that may be permanently overcast and grey, to preserve the awesome, broody moorish quality to the place.
Yesterday, though, I left Galway and did a day tour to Connemara. Despite my awesome tour experience, I am still not a huge fan of day tours in general, with the herding off the bus and the chatty tour guides and the spoonfed scenery, but seeing the countryside was also totally worth it. Connemara is totally rural, a glacier landscape of peat bogs and lakes (or 'loughs' here, adorably) and teeny little villages where people still peak Irish. I loved it. It was like seeing the Ireland out of Brigadoon, only with blissfully 100% less singing. We also saw the most beautiful nunnery/castle/boarding school on the planet, Kylemore Abbey, that was completely breathtaking.
I didn't go in, because I am honestly feeling a little impressive-religious-sited out, but wandering the grounds was enough.
And that brings us to today, with more pretty. I think the only thing better than a clear, beautiful, sunny, blue-sky day in Ireland is one coming on the middle day of a three-day weekend. Tomorrow is a Bank Holiday Monday (no actual holiday that I can see, bank are just closed? I don't know. It's a three-day weekend.) and today was spectacular weather - welcome June! So I, along with many Galway-ians took a bus along the coast (which, I stand corrected, today was so blue and white it could pass for tropical, and not broody at all) to the ferry terminal, and then took a ferry across to Inishmor, the largest of the Aran Islands. A lot of people come for day trips, but I am here for a couple of days, so I hope the weather holds.
In case, though, I rented a bike for both days, and I decided to take in the island. It's gorgous here, but in a different way even than Connemara - I don't even know if I can describe it, really. There are so few who live here, and the islands are pretty removed, so it just feels isolated, even when I am not on my own on a wonky bike on a non-road. The landscape is pretty barren in parts,covered with some short grass but that's about it. And the hillsides in one direction fall in sheer cliffs to the ocean. Add to that the fact that the countryside is divided by low rock walls into an uneven grid shape every where I look, even though nothing is actually in most of the pens. It feels a little eerie and otherworldy, and I haven't even seen the ancient Celtic ruins yet - that's for tomorrow.
On the north end of the island - the remote part; I actually almost feel like that's the part where the folks in the 'town' look at at and say, wow, that's really out there - there's this little road that goes up and up, wit fields on either side. Even though it was warm and sunny today, there was a mist coming in from the north that was actually pretty chilly, and it was blowing in to block off the view pretty quickly - it was actually really cool.
Of course, this was also naturally where my wonky bike opted to drop its chain for the third time, and get horribly wedged between the frame, so I spent about 20 minutes trying to free it, and only got mot of it, until a couple stopped and he spent another 10 and finally got it free. Of course it happens on the remote partof the remote island. But at least it wasn't dark.
Anyhow, tomorrow I am going to go some more around the island, see some ruins, and soak in old Cletic culture. I may end up with an Aran sweater to boot. We'll see.
Anyway, on Friday morning, I hopped on a bus and headed from Cork to Galway, all the way on the west coast. Its a small town, even smaller than Cork, but just as adorable and cute and loveable, so of course I am charmed and just as happy as I have been the whole time in Ireland. All Irish cities (perhaps by law? I am not sure) are on a river -Dublin is on the Liffey, Cork on the Lee and Galway is no exception, on the Corrib, and do not ask me how to pronounce that. But it's also on the Atlantic, and has this fantastic park with a bike and running path along a marshy coastline that may be permanently overcast and grey, to preserve the awesome, broody moorish quality to the place.
Yesterday, though, I left Galway and did a day tour to Connemara. Despite my awesome tour experience, I am still not a huge fan of day tours in general, with the herding off the bus and the chatty tour guides and the spoonfed scenery, but seeing the countryside was also totally worth it. Connemara is totally rural, a glacier landscape of peat bogs and lakes (or 'loughs' here, adorably) and teeny little villages where people still peak Irish. I loved it. It was like seeing the Ireland out of Brigadoon, only with blissfully 100% less singing. We also saw the most beautiful nunnery/castle/boarding school on the planet, Kylemore Abbey, that was completely breathtaking.
I didn't go in, because I am honestly feeling a little impressive-religious-sited out, but wandering the grounds was enough.And that brings us to today, with more pretty. I think the only thing better than a clear, beautiful, sunny, blue-sky day in Ireland is one coming on the middle day of a three-day weekend. Tomorrow is a Bank Holiday Monday (no actual holiday that I can see, bank are just closed? I don't know. It's a three-day weekend.) and today was spectacular weather - welcome June! So I, along with many Galway-ians took a bus along the coast (which, I stand corrected, today was so blue and white it could pass for tropical, and not broody at all) to the ferry terminal, and then took a ferry across to Inishmor, the largest of the Aran Islands. A lot of people come for day trips, but I am here for a couple of days, so I hope the weather holds.
In case, though, I rented a bike for both days, and I decided to take in the island. It's gorgous here, but in a different way even than Connemara - I don't even know if I can describe it, really. There are so few who live here, and the islands are pretty removed, so it just feels isolated, even when I am not on my own on a wonky bike on a non-road. The landscape is pretty barren in parts,covered with some short grass but that's about it. And the hillsides in one direction fall in sheer cliffs to the ocean. Add to that the fact that the countryside is divided by low rock walls into an uneven grid shape every where I look, even though nothing is actually in most of the pens. It feels a little eerie and otherworldy, and I haven't even seen the ancient Celtic ruins yet - that's for tomorrow.
On the north end of the island - the remote part; I actually almost feel like that's the part where the folks in the 'town' look at at and say, wow, that's really out there - there's this little road that goes up and up, wit fields on either side. Even though it was warm and sunny today, there was a mist coming in from the north that was actually pretty chilly, and it was blowing in to block off the view pretty quickly - it was actually really cool.
Of course, this was also naturally where my wonky bike opted to drop its chain for the third time, and get horribly wedged between the frame, so I spent about 20 minutes trying to free it, and only got mot of it, until a couple stopped and he spent another 10 and finally got it free. Of course it happens on the remote partof the remote island. But at least it wasn't dark.
Anyhow, tomorrow I am going to go some more around the island, see some ruins, and soak in old Cletic culture. I may end up with an Aran sweater to boot. We'll see.
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