|
(with apologies to
London's Heathrow Airport)
SCOTLAND:
We came back to Scotland to get a feel
for the early homes of my Great-Grandparents (David Allan -
Inverlair, Isabella Robertson-Raploch/Stirling) and try and
do some more research.
If you don't like the weather here, just
wait. It's bound to change. So every day we get some
sunshine and some surprise showers.
Wednesday 11th. Today we arrived at
Heathrow and were subjected to a long hike down the terminal
(longer than Miami). Since we only had 1 1/2 hours before
our next flight to Scotland they gave us an orange 'Express
pass'. We followed the signs to 'Connecting Flights' and
were surprised to skip Immigration, then Customs. We were
ushered onto a bus that took us at breakneck speeds around
Heathrow. The only reason we didn't get broken bones was the
fact we had been packed in like sardines. By the time we
reached the next terminal we were expecting someone to
notice our Express card. No we were directed to a ticket
counter line where we interupted 2 agents intent on
discussing the football, rather than help us. Finally we got
boarding passes and were pointed to a non-descript line, and
counter, that happened to be Immigration, who took our
pictures, sent us on to another agent a few feet away who
presumably made sure we were the same as the picture in our
passport. On to Security, where the only thing we didn't
have to remove was our shoes.
Let me say that no one, nada, responded
to our EXPRESS pass.
We remembered the departure lounge from
our last visit to LHR. It's an interesting place rather like
a shopping mall with expensive stores, and a departures
board.
The setup is unlike your regular airport.
They don't post a location until there's only enough time to
run for your plane. No, that's an exageration. They wait
until the plane is actually at the gate before the send you
there.
Then there are all these uniformed ladies
carrying what look like cosmetic sample bags. They don't
offer samples, they offer advice to those who look lost.
They ask your flight, and when you tell them, they say, HUM,
let's see! They look up at the departure board, that you
have been staring at for the past 15 minutes and say, very
friendly like, Oh, that flight's not boarding yet. Just
stand here, exactly where you are, and do exactly what
you've been doing, until it tells you a gate.
So the instant it is posted we head for
the gate. Its not 100 feet away yet all the waiting area
seats are taken. Go figure. How did all those locals know
where to go.
What we were unaware of was that some
British Airways folk had been on strike for 18 months.
Perhaps that's what all those ladies were doing,
volunteering as welcomers, so they could feel useful? Well,
we could say we had something to do about settling the
strike, this evenings news announced such.
So we waited an hour for a flight that
took 50 minutes, had nice attendants who spent a lot of time
shuffling everyone's bags, like in a jigsaw puzzle, until
they all fitted. It might bear noting that, as we boarded,
they eyeballed everyones baggage, looking for violators of
the size restrictions. Then they embarashed us by forcing us
to test our bags in a basket. We failed so they checked them
for us. Without a $15 fee. So nice of them.
Our Holiday Inn Express was within
walking distance from GLA. Five minutes, if you don't count
the wind and rain. We settled in and then went back to the
airport and took the shuttle downtown. Then a Hop On- Hop
Off tour of 2 hours - even without getting off.
Thursday 12th, we set out nervously in a
rental car from Glasgow Airport and managed the 120 miles to
our first accomodation at Stronlossit Inn in Roy Bridge (16
miles NW of Fort William). Along the way we stopped at Loch
Lomond, Chianang, and Glencoe for photo ops, meal ops, or
you know what ops. A drive with so much unique scenery it's
impossible to describe, in word or in pictures.
At Fort William we dared to take a
gondola ride up a mountain next to Ben Nevis. Not too bad
going up, but blustering winds going back down. While at the
top we started out on an easy hike of perhaps a half mile
each way along a ridge and onto a minor peak. A walking path
I may add. We lasted perhaps 5 minutes when it started to
rain and the wind blew under my kilt (I mean my coat). In
the 5 minutes back to shelter our faces were beginning to
ice over.
Friday 13th. It was the day of my
pilgrimage to Inverlair. I had seen Chris' Photos he took in
1990 so knew what to expect of the building. What really
surprised me was the landscape. Most of Glen Spean appears
as grassy slopes, some with trees, down to the river
(Spean). Behind them rise the rugged barren rocky mountains
we had seen the day before - everywhere. We took the Fersit
Road as far as we were allowed and met a man along the way.
His name was Sandy Walker and he said that he managed the
property for the Aluminium Company that owned it now. There
are some sheep, but mostly timber. He happened to be the man
our hosts at the Inn said was a regular at the Bar.
We had planned the remainder of the day
to take the train from Roy Bridge to Mallaig and back. It
was a wonderful trip on a mostly sunny day. The 2 hours
passed quickly as we tried to capture the mood of the
Highlands, Lochs, Mountains, Moors, Seascapes. A tasty lunch
at Mallaig of very fresh fish and chips we had not
experienced since our first visit to Port Albert (Victoria)
in 1969.
We got to walk around for 2 hours before
heading back to the train for the return journey. Only when
we alighted at Roy Bridge did it start to rain hard, and
then not for long.
Saturday 14th. We decided to go to the
Newtonmore Folk Museum. A pleasant drive to an interesting
place. Samples of life from earlier centuries. Not the way
we could survive life today. After we came back we went to
Neptunes Staircase, a miniature Panama Canal, with ten locks
climbing 100 feet at the south end of the Caledonian Canal.
There are 43 locks in all along the canal though most of the
canal is a chain of Lochs (or Lakes) including Loch
Ness.
Then we had other important side trips, a
hilltop church and cemetery in Bunroy, a drive up Glen Roy
to see the notable parrallel roads. A visit to the Comondos
Memorial at Spean Bridge and the Kilmonivaig Church and
Cemetery. This was probably the first (don't quote me)
Presbyterian Church in the heart of catholic - Jacobite
territory. It was possibly where the Allans worshipped.
(More research to come)
When we returned to Stromlossit, Mr
Walker, was asking for us. He had the phone number of the
man, Richard Sidgwick, the previous owner of Inverlair
Lodge. Mr Walker, as it happens, lives in the cottage. (See
allanclan.com/history/inverlair) and was able to give me
some geographical info. I had insufficient time to call on
Sidgwick but will contact him by phone in the future. (Note:
I have since contacted Mr. Sidgwick and have a lot more to
add to Inverlair's history as a result.)
Sunday 15th. We travelled through the
highlands to Laggan, where we stopped yesterday, and enjoyed
a sumptuous breakfast. This bed & breakfast, the
Monadhliath Hotel, was extremely popular with Backpackers.
From there we continued to Perth and Stirling.
We spent the afternoon at Stirling Castle
and wandering the steep slopes of the old town. Extremely
interesting tour of the Castle by a great storyteller. It's
not until you walk around the area, and look down at the
surrounding buildings, parklands, cemeteries, that the maps
and photos come alive.
Monday 16th. I had pre-arranged a visit
to the Archives of Stirlingshire. I was looking for
historical details of St. Ninnian's Free Church and Stirling
Free Church. My assistant was extremely helpful in digging
out original church minutes and other documents. I felt like
I was handling ancient scrolls as he placed them on a pillow
if front of me on the table. I turned the pages carefully,
knowing that these documents dated back almost 200
years.
Then we strolled around the lower part of
the old town that has new facades over old buildings, a huge
modern mall, and lots of locals.
At the library I was assisted in
researching 'The Raploch', and found many interesting facts.
Many I had not found on my internet searches.
Tomorrow we will return to Glasgow and
vist some of the attractions we missed before. Then on
Wednesday fly on to Copenhagen.
DENMARK:
Wednesday (18th May):
It started overcast, with forcasts of
high winds. We were anxious to move on, but unsure if our
flight out of Glasgow would materialize. It did. On a
miniature jet with room for only 30, but 18 adults and a
cute baby boy the only takers.
An unusual feature of theis plane was the
seat numbering. Were were assigned to 9D & F, seated
together the only other seat in our row was seat A, across
the aisle.
An unusual feature, the pilot was
standing on the tamac with a remote controller in his hand.
Was this a drone? No, I was just getting carried
away.
Two hours later, after a late breakfast
of a muffin, egg & bacon, we landed and were through
immigrations and customs in a blink of an eye.
"Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen".
What a surprise we had. Hundreds of
cheering Danes, waving flags, and surging forward. We were
almost overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed, that is, until we realised
they were there for family and friends. Half the population
of Copenhagen were there welcoming the return of the other
half.
It did help calm our nerves. We had
bought guidebooks for all 3 countries. We were well aware
that they all used kroners, but that they were all different
currencies, with different exchange rates. They all spoke a
similar language, but even 'hello', 'goodbye' and 'thank
you' were a little different. Why?
When we studied these books we had been
so bamboozled. We refused to learn even the basic
expressions. We would just carry the books around, and
cheat.
We needed a train ticket to the city, but
the first bank of ticket machines were out of order. The
next machines were selling tickets to Sweden. No, not yet.
We found the correct machine and waited in line. Then the
angst was there again. Where's the English button? "Can I
help you." A refined young lady, about Raquel's age, asked
us. Before we realized it, she had walked us through the
whole process, handed us a single 10 trip ticket we could
share, and pocketed our debit card. So much for a tip! This
ticket cost us 160 DKKroners. That's a lot of money. No, we
had done our research. With 6 Kroner/ dollar it's a good
incentive to spend less. In Scotland we always though things
were cheaper with 2 dollars/pound.
Did I tell you I was joking about the
lady keeping our debit card. That was not true. She gave it
back when I hit her over the head with my walking
stick.
The other untruth was about the language.
We had read that English was spoken by many a Scandinavian,
particularly in the service industries. We have understood
the locals here better than we did in Scotland, even better
than our grandchildren in Boston (no offense Sarah &
David), and ten times better than Miamians. (?Que
Pasa?)
Wednesday: (still)
So we made it to our hotel, checked in
early, and headed out to Tivoli Gardens. If you haven't
heard of this Theme Park, originating pre 1900, then you may
have to just 'google' it. Uncle Walt D. is suspected of
copying it. Beautiful Gardens, Lots of eating places
(including many expensive ones), shows and rides. At 4pm it
was crawling with pre-teens, by 6pm that ramped up to teens
and above. Mostly unescorted. All well behaved. Is it
possible they all skipped, or is it an optional class? We
waited until 6:30pm, and then grabbed a canvas deck chair on
the lawn (mud) slopes of the mime theater. The wind blew
through us for 30 minutes and by the time the show started
at 7 we lasted only 5 minutes. Someone had turned down the
sound. We couldn't hear a word. I said mime show - Ha
Ha.
Thursday:
After a filling breakfast at our hotel,
we took a bus and boat tour for half the day.
This is what we normally do when visiting
a city for the first time - we get a feel for the places we
want to return to. The boat tour was a bonus in this city of
islands. We saw a lot of hard to reach places.
After the 'changing of the guard' at the
Fredericksburg Palace we returned to our bus. An Indian
gentleman was panicking, and we overheard he had lost his
passport.
The tour ended near Christianborg Palace,
now a government building. Beside it we found the
Thorvaldsen Museum, a surprise display of magnificient
sculptures by an acclaimed Danish native, we had never heard
about.
We had dinner at a Longhorn type
restaurant near our digs, our second visit, and just as
enjoyable. What we like is the 'no rush' laid back
atmosphere, 20% GST tax already included in the price, and
TIPPING optional.
Friday:
Today was a 'Bank Holiday', as they label
all holidays here.
This is how we discovered it was a
holiday. No, the hotel didn't tell us, or the tourist books,
or the information center. It was a local who told us when
we questioned him in our best Danish. "Where's the library
entrance." Now, how's that for picking up the local dialect.
We had already walked a mile via the backstreets, a detour
at the canal, another at a palace.
We had circled this big black cube of a
building seven times, just like Joshua did of Jerusalem,
looking for the entrance. It should have been open by then,
so we button-holed him. His answer you already know. "You
won't find it open today. Today's a bank holiday." So we
squeezed our legs together, for reasons any older person is
aware of. And tried to find the afforementioned HCA Museet.
Then we tried the Danish Design Center. It had later hours
and wouldn't open for longer than we could hold on.
Now we were desperate. We had vowed not
to enter an American Fast Food store during our trip.
"Forgive us father for we have sinned." So the Father says,
as penance," You must climb 2 flights of stairs in a Burger
King, on your knees, and search for a toilet behind one of
several secret doors." We had already paid the price, so we
decided a coffee would not be as greater sin. "Sorry, our
coffee urn is not working." Huh, more punishment. So we
joined the tourists shuffling along the Stroget and hit a
jackpot (of coffee) at, where else, but McDonalds.
Pronounced in Dansk as "McDonalds".
We discovered that this one was a
religious holiday. when a local grandpa saw us looking lost.
He willingly told us that the Hans Christian Anderson Museet
was back exactly where we had circled several blocks looking
for it. Later again an elder lady advised us it was a waste
of time. Even if we did happen upon it, it wasn't worth the
admission fee. The real HCA Museet was in Odense where he
had lived. This was a fake one for the tourists.
It was he that told us that if we wanted
to see something special, it was at the Cathederal. Go
there, climb up to the second floor and look down. We did as
he said. What we found were small alcoves, each with several
chairs like a theater box, and ALL crammed with people doing
what? Good job, yes, looking down. We through a family over
the railing so we could see what was going on. It was a ?
Ceremony with about 2 dozen teenagers all dressed up. The
pews were full but we stood now in the back of the
Cathederal and the group paraded down the aisle and sat on
extra chairs placed beside their families in the
pews.
We quit on the Museets, and decided on
one of the local 'must sees', the area known as
NyHavn.
Hundreds of people sitting outside
endless restaurants that lined the canal here. Hundreds more
boarding cruise boats, like the one we had taken yesterday.
The canals atmosphere was enhanced by boats of all types
moored along the canal.
We returned to our hotel long enough to
grab our cases and head for bus number 26. We were off to
Norway on an overnight ferry. This was my moment of fear. I
don't do cruises. Even with the dozen B-bags I had collected
from the airplanes. I still was not ready for this part of
our vacation.
On a good note we saw the Indian man
again. He went back to the Palace Grounds (perhaps 500
tourists had been there). He found his passport lying on the
ground. His 1000 euros (almost $2000) he had in the passport
was still there. (This one is r-e-a-l, no kidding)
NORWAY:
Oslo Journal
Friday 20th we left Copenhagen at 5pm on
our overnight ferry to Oslo.
Now the Ferry is starting to sway, so I
will put away my notepad computer before I...
too late...
Actually the ferry ride was smooth. It
was such a big boat, and never goes near the open seas.
Saturday - Oslo:
The buffet breakfast on the ferry made
all the previous ones look skimpy. They were plentiful.
There was a huge selection we could only sample some of it.
They forced us to pack sandwiches for later in the day -
quite acceptable accordingly to guide books. A lunch is half
the price of dinner so we have gotten into the habit of
dining before 3, then having the afforementioned sandwich
along with fruit and a snack later.
While on the ferry we booked a 2 hour
city tour. It left right from the terminal. A double decker
bus that had an appetitie for passengers. Raquel got seats
while I waited with our bags. The line was long when we got
there, yet they kept sucking up that line like a giant
spagetti, and several new lines as well. I could swear they
were pushin them out the exit door. But I was standing right
there! Finally the driver came out to load our bags and
Raquel's walker.
The tour gave us a good idea about what
we could cover in the next 2 days. Our guide took us on a
walking tour of 30 minutes through the heart of
Vigenlandsparken - where we saw dozens of naked statues in
all manner of poses, including the famous tower crawling
with the same kind of people. Another trip was to a recently
constructed ski jump where we could see close up what those
jumpers would see on their descent.
The tour notes said we would be dropped
off at either City Hall, or at the Opera House. Sadly it was
City Hall. We found to our chagrin that we had to drag our
cases at least a mile over not so smooth sidewalks. (some of
them nicely surfaced with cobblestones)We punished ourselves
further by adding another 1/2 mile when we diverted to a
restaurant that was recommended. The Salmon lunch we had was
well worthwhile.
By the time we reached our Hotel we were
almost immobile. We decided we had seen plenty of sights
along the way. So we rested for an hour before going to see
a local sight, only 200 yards from our hotel. Guess where?
The Opera House. Feeling challenged by the number of people
in the main pedestrian street, we took another stroll back
to the City Hall area. The Religious Confirmation Services
were being there and whole families were decked out in
striking national costumes.
Also dressed in national costumes, more
or less, were moslem men and women. They were protesting in
support of freedoms in Bahrain. It was amusing to me in that
two groups were chanting back and forward. The men and the
women, separated as is there custom. One woman was even
using a high powered megaphone, to lead her mob's
chant.
Sunday:
Today we got a lot smarter. We bought a
24 hour ticket. (we actually started using it yesterday to
get back to the hotel.) Today we took busses and ferries as
much as we could. Going first to a Folk Museum, then the
Framm Museum.
By the time we were back in the city
center it started to rain, but we were intent of seeing the
changing of the guard at the Slottet (The National Palace).
We arrived early enough to see a bus arrive and stop along
one of the access roads, only yards from the main plaza. I
waited in the shadows for the appointed time for I had an
inkling as to its contents. You've heard of the fearless
Papparazzi? The bus contained not tourists sheltering from
the rain, but the Royal Norwegian Guards, descendents of the
Vikings, and arriving by a ship-on-wheels (a tour bus). What
a farce. We had seen a similar spectacle in Copenhagen and
know for a fact that those guards marched at least a mile to
their palace.
Monday:
We must rise early to steal into the
Hotel breakfast bar before they open so we can grab a bight
- the desk clerk said it was OK. Then we must race a 1/4
mile, dragging our luggage again, to the railway station to
catch our 7:25am train to Stockholm. You will know that
didn't happen if the next entry says "still in Oslo".
SWEDEN:
Stockholm Journal
Monday 23rd May: We managed to catch that
train with time to spare. The breakfast was to open at 7am
but we were allowed in at 6:15.
Our tour organizers
(Authentic-Scandinavia.com) were kind enough to upgrade the
railway sections of our tour to first class. This meant
larger seats with more legroom.
We left right on time and took six hours
to reach Stockholm. There were many stops along the way, to
let Vikings - in full armour - on and off. The countryside
was a mix on forests, rivers, lakes and farms. Unlike
previous train journeys (Canada & US) there was no
unsightly scenery of trash, slums and factories as we passed
through these towns and villages.
By the time we walked to the Rica
Stockholm and checked in, we only had time to survey our
immediate downtown district, and plan for 3 full days
here.
Tuesday:
Today we took a day using the Hop On- Hop
Off to see museums and palaces along our route. These always
look to be good deals but when they start at 10 and finish
at 4 we were lucky to visit two destinations.We did get to
go the full distance in two separate loops, covering a lot
of Stockholm as we went.
The two stops we did were the Vasa Museet
and Gamla Stan.
The Vasa features a restored ship that
sank on its maiden voyage, failing to get out of Stockholm
harbor. In 1960's the Swedes managed to lift the hull out of
the water and salvage thousands of artifacts. They say the
only reason the hull was intact after 300 years was due to
so much pollution in the harbor. That robbed the water of
the oxygen for sustaining the micro-organisms that digest
the wood. The same was true of much of the iron. Rust is
iron oxide. No oxygen, no rust.
So now it has been restored almost to its
original magnificience. The ancillory displays and audio
visuals attest to the fact, as some one said, "It only goes
to prove you can turn a wreck into a museum." The place was
crowded.
The other stop we made was at the Royal
Palace, and old Stockholm - Gamla Stan.
Exploring the narrow streets of the
island doesn't take so long but the light changes, the
colors and shadows in the streets, so it's easy to get
disoriented, even lost for a time.
Wednesday:
Today we are using the tunnelbahn, the
subway or metro, to get around.
Our first stop was for a tour of the
Kunglika Slottet (the older royal palace) It has a similar
look and feel to the Versailles neat Paris so in that
respect it was dull. But the tour guide had a passion for
the history of the Swedish monarchy. He added so much color
to the tour, that the palace came alive, as he described
what would have taken place in the various rooms.
We were ready for a snack, and a ! break,
so headed back to the small restaurant of yesterday for a
coffee and lemon merangue pie.
Our next choice was the Botanical
Gardens. The closest station turned out to be a mile away,
but we endured and found the gardens fascinating. More
natural than spectacular.
Seeing the the clouds forming, and the
sun disappearing, we hastened back to the metro.
The day turned nasty, and a downpour
began and lasted for some time. Fortunately we had made it
back to our hotel in a light drizzle. It poured, on and off,
all night.
Thursday:
This morning brought us sunshine and a
cloudless sky. We headed immediately for the Sony-Erikson
Dome at the end of one of the metro lines. The dome's
primary purpose is as a Hockey stadium, but it doubles and a
general purpose arena for a multitude of activities from
athletics to entertainers.
The reason we went was not what goes on
inside, but what goes on outside. There are 2 mini domes
that run on tracks up the side of the main dome to a height
of 500 feet. Each can take 12 persons on a 15 minute climb
to the top. Along the way we enjoyed views across the
southern suburbs all the way the the city center.
That done we headed for lunch at
Ostermalm Market place. One of the recommended sights. Here
they sold all manner of meat and produce. With lines of
buyers at a dozen food stalls, some take out, and some sit
down. We sat down, and ordered a dish we had become fond of
- "what he's eating", tak. The people may understand
English, but the menus are in Swedish.
Speaking of speaking, and this has been
true of all three countries, we are constantly amazed by the
capability of their bi-lingualism. The only language we are
hearing spoken around us is Swedish. (well we guess that
what they're speaking), but as soon as you say something in
English, they transition without any effort. And most of the
time their English is better than ours. Another observation
is that we are totally immersed. Whether we are in local
neighborhoods, or tourist areas, we have rarely heard an
American, Englishman or even an Aussie. Oriental visitor
abound, and we have heard Spanish and French, but rarely
English.
After lunch we walked, and walked, around
the neighborhood, along the water front, and finally back to
our hotel. After a nap we walked nearby and watched the
locals busily heading somewhere. It was 5pm, and there were
long lines at one bus stop, but many seemed to be shopping,
socializing, eating in McDonalds or just walking back and
forward, so as to make the place look busy. One third of
Swedes live in Stockholm, that means 2-million are scattered
around the whole city. I'm sure I counted that many walking
by me in a matter of an hour. Its not the tourist season
yet, the museum hours are shorter. Go figure - they have to
be going around in circles.
Then there are the school children, they
are everywhere, in groups from kindergarteners and high
schoolers.
Tomorrow we take another train back to
Copenhagen. There are enough museums in this town to keep
you going for weeks. We thought 4 days might be too long.
We've seen enough, but very little. We would like to have
gone out to the outer suburbs, or to some of the smaller
islands, or solve a Wallander mystery - not enough time.
We've had a great time here in Stockholm.
DENMARK
& Home: With Day Trip to southern Sweden.
Copenhagen/ Malmo/ Miami Journal
Friday 27rd May:
We dragged our bags to Stockholm's
Central Station in a light rain. We were early and kept
looking furtively at the departure board to see we were
still on the correct platform, it was lonely here. In a
matter of 5 minutes that all changed, we discovered where
all those people were heading yesterday - to Copenhagen. The
platform was so crowded people kept falling off it. But when
our train left, most were still there! Perhaps they were
bound for the North Pole! Once again we had an upgrade to
first class. We spent the next 5 hours, luxuriating in first
class, cruising through the Swedish countryside at speeds of
over 100 mph.
We made it to Copenhagen for an earlybird
dinner at the Boefhaus Restaurant, and on to our hotel. I
have had a bad wheel, on my carry on bag, it doesn't like
cobblestones. It keeps wanting to get in the bicycle lane,
but that would be a huge mistake. I'm getting to the point
of having to carry it.
Saturday:
We booked a day trip back to Sweden's
southern region. The tour bus took us along the coast past
Copenhagen's fancier suburbs, then on a quick ferry ride
across to Helsingborg.
Our first official stop was in Lund for
lunch. This is a handsome city that boasts the oldest
University in the world. It was established in the 10th
Century.
With a thousand years of education Lund
has grown in the shape of a brain. We found an
out-of-the-way seafood cafe, well patronised by the locals,
so guaranteed to be reasonable and good. We ordered Halibut
and were gastronimically satiated.
Then it was back on the bus to Malmo,
which was a disappointment. We were left in the city square
for an hour and a half. Ther was little to do but hudddle
from the cold in an unfriendly locale. It was no wonder
Burger King even had slot on their toilets, the Hotels
refusing admission unless you were a guest. Even the
visitors center had a coin slot toilet. We did something
disgusting, we used the filthy public toilets in the square.
By our estimates they had not been cleaned, ever. And, they
were 200 years old.
On leaving this part of Malmo we
discovered beautiful gardens and neighborhoods close by.
There were any number of better stopping points. The driver
must have owners the coin slots.
From here we had 5 minute photo stops at
the 'turning Torso' apartment building, that looks like two
giants took and end each, and twiisted it to wring out the
occupants. Then they stood the 40 story building on end, and
let the people back in. Then they brought tourist busses to
gwark at the tenants. The authorities had to stop it from
turning, so the residents didn't get motion sickness, and
splatter the afformentioned tourists with vomit.
Another stop to take an impossible
distant photo of the Malmo Bridge, known for something or
other, and then back to Copenhagen.
This was our one, and only,
disappointment on our 20-day vacation. Not recommended.
(Viator.com - all the other tours were well worth
it.)
Sunday:
Another sunny day drew us out of our room
and into Copenhagen. We had much to catch up on and bought a
10 stop bus pass so only had to walk 5 miles.
We did see the Little Mermaid posing on
her rocky outcrop in the harbor. This time we had our camera
at hand. She is probably the most phographed icon of all
Scandinavia.
Collectively, however, the Chinese would
take more photos of each other, or even each other. These
'nevaux riche' have replaced the Japanese in terms of
tourism. Get in any line, at any time, and you will find the
equivalent of a Biejing apartment house ahead of you.
Observe a group of three chinese girls at just one location,
such as an insignificant unkempt building, and you will
count 30 different combinations of poses and flashes. If I
am overstating this subject please forgive me. They are a
boom to any economy, and generally are well kept, well fed,
happy, polite and will only trip you up when you are ahead
of them in a line.
We walked a lot of streets and only saw a
few homeless people in this clean, appealing city. There was
a rumor that, during the slow season, they wash, dress and
feed them, and then sit them in the vacant seats of the
Hop-On Hop-Off busses (much like restaurants sit dummies at
the window tables). Our later enquiries established that
this rumor, along with the shape of Lund, both rumors were
false.
We were still were too early for the
King's Castle, so we bussed back to within (a long) walking
distance of the Dansk Judisk Museet. We were determined to
see it after our failed attempt last time.
Once again we lucked out -this time due
to the reduced off-season hours. We would have needed to
wait in the cold wind - been there, done that. We were not
that determined so we walked back to the bus stop, and back
to the King's Slottet (Castle). On arrival we discovered it
opened at ten, not eleven as listed in the guide book.
I am not one to enjoy antiquities, I went
because of Raquel. The presentation, layout, and sheer
magnificence of this museum overwhelmed me. The walls were a
mass of artifacts dating back a long time, some to before I
was born. Instead of the stacks of old crockery I was
expecting, the plates were stagger mounted as if they were
still frames from a flying saucer movie. Goblets, bowls,
silverware, you name it, were presented likewise. Where
shelves were needed they had fancy brackets of immitation
gold.
Each alcove contained catalogued
antiquities being grouped by function. There were rooms for
writing, armour and weapons. The least ornate room was the
kings throne, not the one where he sat on cerimonial
occasions; but the other one, where he sat contemplating
which country to invade next. Would it be Sweden or
Norway?
The crowning moment was in the basement.
The royal jewels included three encased crowns and lots of
gold jewelry. I was half expecting George Clooney to emerge
from the ceiling and make off with them.
We had lunch, and went back to our hotel.
We were intent on checking in for our flights and selecting
seats. Both the American Airlines and British Airways
websites said we could do this 24 hours before our flight.
Try as I may I could not check in, or get our seats. The
best I could do was to get a subliminal message suggesting
that, if I could not hack into their computer, then we would
just have to show up in person at the airport. The counter
would be open 2 hours before the flight. How nice of them.
So to stop our (my) frustration we spent
the evening watching TV. We had few options. There were
continuous re-runs of "Hello, Hello", a hillarious spoof
(unless you are German) of a restaurant serving as a spy
base somewhere in occupied Europe. The other option was to
watch the BBC News reruns, with the same time interval of 30
minutes.
Monday:
When we got up at 6am what do you think
was on TV? If you can guess the answer then email me and you
will receive a 1000 pounds. The email address is
winathousandpounds@haahaa.com.dk
So by 8am were hauling our 'very
compressed' carry on bags back to Copenhagen's Central
Station.
Compressed because British Airways has a
policy that only one carry on is allowed. This bag must fit
underneath the seat in front of you - where your legs are
meant to go. It must include all other items that normal
airlines allow as extras - handbags, computers, lunch bags,
'doggie' bags - with or without doggies, walking sticks,
wheel chairs. Some day they will expect the passenger to be
in there as well.
When I approached the check in counter I
was intent on being Mr. Polite. "Godmorgen", I said in my
best Danske, Norse & Swish at the same time. Then I
asked for the best seats in the house (airplane), and please
may it be next to a beautiful woman - my wife.
There were three reasons I did not
complain like a loudmouthed 'Aussie tourist' (if you are an
Australian you should substitute the word 'Yankee') so I
don't offend you.
Firstly, the "British Airways Check -In
Facilitator" probably gets the same complaint from half of
the passengers. and knows nothing about computers.(or she
would not be working at this desk) It would go something
like this. "How come I am told by the Airlines to check-in
24 hours before my flight, but it says come and see you?".
Secondly, we did not want to be seated
next to the lavatory, particularly on the nine hour flight
to Miami when... Nah, I won't go there.
Finally, we did not want to be added to
the 'aggressive passenger' rejection list and be stuck with
Tom Hanks at Heathrow, until the next ash clouds arrive
sometime in May, 2012.
My courteous behavour paid dividends.
Raquel was proud of me. We got great seats on both flights.
She (the BA lady, not Raquel) diverted the plane so it
arrived at terminal five in Heathrow, sparing us the agony
of the trans terminal, limb dislocating, very express
shuttlebus. She also changed the weather, so we could
actually see some of rural England as we approached the
airport. We were on our way home and the world looked good
from our seats on BA 213.
I will skip duplicating our experiences
at LHR - not even God could change that. The British have
always been thorough in the way they do things. I just hope
they change things before the 2012 Olympics or they won't
need shuttle busses between Terminals. They will be replaced
by lines for 'passport control' and 'security strip
searches'.
Our flight to Miami was full. Only 2
spare seats we could count. Guess where they were? Next to
us, we had 4 seats. I don't know if the Check-In Consultant
was responsible. I would send her an email if I thought it
would find her. But then she might get into trouble if they
found out that the 2 people, who were supposed to be sitting
beside us, are still trying to get out of Guatamala.
(Alicia, I meant Guantanamo)
The flight crew was courteous, the meals
good, the pilot's apology for the extreme turbulence ahead
was thoughtful. We had passengers bouncing off the cabin
ceiling and screaming. A simple "please be sure to fasten
your seatbelt. If this Jumbo breaks apart at 35,000 feet, it
won't be my fault if you fall out of your seat, and don't
have a parachute."
The turbulance was real and significant.
It lasted a good half hour - Raquel says it was two hours.
We were seated in row 299 and could, on occasion, see the
pilot in his cockpit as our plane flexxed. Some of the
bouncing still existed as we made our final approach into
MIA. (this part is true and we were at 500 feet) God had
kept us safe along the way. We were thankful when we landed.
We are more thankful to be home.
Geoffrey Allan
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