A week has passed since I arrived in Denmark, where I've spent the interval amongst good friends in what has proven to be a beautiful stretch of Scandanvian weather. A bit of color has found its way into my cheeks, such that back home one might think I'd ventured to the Carribean rather than the north of Europe. The local fare has proven plentiful and good, and occasions to walk and run have been numerous. We've trekked up hills, along sand-dunes, through knarled forests, and along sandy paths leading to the shore. By degrees, the grass is greening over here, the trees are laden heavily with buds, and flowers of many colors and shapes are now in bloom.
The last few days have been spent in Aalborg. It's a city of modest size in the north of Jutland, nestled amongst a series of hills at a point where the Limfjord narrows in its course through the country. We arrived there after several days, having stayed or travelled through Copenhagen, Roskilde, Rørbit, and Arhus. A great deal of land (and sea) was traversed in the process. The fast-ferry to Arhus proved particularly novel, shooting across narrow sea between Sjælland and Jutland at a surprising speed, considering the ship's size and girth. Along the highway from Arhus to Aalborg were many large farms, and tall, white windmills, with large twirling arms in great frequency.
A number of personal "first" have occurred on this adventure; for example, I tried a bit of Danish liquor called snaps, which is traditionally imbibed at the start of certain meals--in this case, Easter. Of this beverage, I can only say that it didn't burn as much as Irish whiskey whilst going down, but it was strong enough for its purposes. It so happens that this particular brand is made in Aalborg, and upon arriving in the city, it was not long before I encountered the distillery in which it was made.
I also went off into the city on my own for the first time, using my limited Danish to navigate, and even pick up some groceries for the flat where I've been staying. Despite my lack of vocabulary, it has been noteworthy at how much less foreign the place feels once one has a bit of language under one's belt.
I'm also using a Danish keyboard for the first time to write this, which isn't too different from an American on, but different enough to require some adjustment (image
here)
Yesterday, I also ran with a local running club. There were perhaps 15 or 20 people in attendance, ranging from about my age and up. We left from the center of Aalborg, crossing to the north side of the fjord, where there is a muncipality called Nørresundby. There, near the water, is a long, flat stretch of road and paved footpath, where after a warm-up and some sprint-drills we did 4x5min at 5km pace. It's been a while since I've done any sort of running workout, but given the circumstances I think it went well. The man in charge of the club was by far the fastest--he related to me during the warm-up that he hoped to run about 2:55 at the Hamburg marathon later this month. Needless to say, there was no chance I was keeping up with him. Instead, I stuck to within twenty yards of the next two fastest guys, both a deal older than me, and by my reckoning, much more fit. The weather was sunny and warm, and the fjord sparkled in the late-afternoon light.
Some days ago, I was walking with my host toward a place in Aalborg called Signal Hill, where many years ago a steamship company operated a tower for the purpose of signalling when one of their ships had appeared down the fjord. Now, at an intersection along the way we came upon a mound of cinnamon, with much more of the stuff scattered all about. As it turns out, there is a tradition in Denmark that if one is not married by 25, one's friends are obliged to pour cinnamon over you--for what purpose, I cannot say, and it is apparently more common in some places than others. As it is, I've encountered cinnamon in the streets on two other occasions whilst here, suggesting that up in Aalborg at least, the tradition is common enough, (
here is a relevant image).
Speaking of Signal Hill, after seeing the city from its peak in daylight, my host took me back there last night to see the place in the dark. There aren't many city lights as one approaches the hill, and as the moon had not yet risen, I found the going dark and difficult. Yet climbing through the cool, humid night-air of Aalborg, the sight that greeted me from the top was moving in the extreme. In all directions the view is open and clear, and one can see many miles from that vantage. The night was quiet, and the sky full of stars. We remained atop that hill for several minutes before heading home.
There is much else of interest that has happened to me in Denmark, and I have still a few days more here, but those are some experiences and impressions I've had thus far. We'll see what the coming days bring.
Happy Thursday :)
