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Friday - 22:49 EDT I wipe sleep from my eyes, focussing on the dark highway, trying not to become hypnotised, sluggish from a lack of sleep in the preceding days – and a full stomach thanks to a Brazilian rodizio feast in Burlington, Vermont. I remind myself of the adage ‘there’ll be plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead,’ not wanting that time to come any sooner than fate should have it. Anyway we can sleep in a bit tomorrow, before brunch with my cousins and a leisurely afternoon in Boston.
Sunday - 06:17 WET Landfall. After crossing the North Atlantic from Gander and just south of Greenland, we’ve reached the Reykjanes Peninsula of Iceland. Or is it the Moon, or Mars? Black sand beaches and lava fields greet us. The 757 touches down gently a few minutes later, with no reverse thrust or brakes, just a rolling stop on Keflavik’s long runway 11. We’re seated in row 9, the exit row at door 2L, and still, with our bags stowed at the rear of the aircraft thanks to Icelandair’s lack of enforcement of both boarding-by-rows and carry-on baggage restrictions, we sit there like statues as the rest of the passengers deplane. Just enough time now to clear passport control, get some cash from the ATM for the return stopover (oops, I just took out $20 not $200; wonder how far that will get me in Iceland? ) and check out the duty-free shop. HOW much for that sweater?
Sunday - 15:01 CET Wandering through the aisles of the Aldi supermarket in Amager. We’d arrived at Copenhagen Kastrup Airport, already on Amager island, and rather than take the train into the city centre, we hop a city bus like a local, and twenty minutes later are at our home for the next four nights. Like locals, we hit the neighbourhood market before it closes early for the Sunday, stocking up on necessities such as juice, cheese, salami, bread, yoghurt, and the Danish schnapps ‘akvavit.’ While presenting itself as a basic market in a middle-class neighbourhood, Aldi does offer sushi and escargot, as well as nuts from Trader Joe’s (a store we’d visited the previous day in Boston).
With sunny weather greeting us upon arrival, we’re quickly off to explore the city, fighting a bit of jet lag in the backs of our minds but knowing that we’d best pack in as much as possible and sleep at a ‘normal’ time. First stop is Nyhavn, the once-seedy sailor’s quarter now famous in many a postcard or Carlsberg advert for the multi-coloured buildings that dot this picturesque harbourfront. Locals and tourists are milling about, basking in the sunlight and enjoying seafood and beverages along the many sidewalk cafes. Across the Kongens Nytorv square begins the Strøget, a 2 km-long pedestrian shopping street, home to bakeries & sandwich shops (more on both of these later), established retailers and trendy boutiques. If you ignore the McDonald’s, KFC and 7-Eleven that dot one end of Strøget, this is Europe at its best: no cars, no malls, just people strolling, taking in a leisurely Sunday afternoon in their own slice of la dolce vita Danish style.
At the other end of Strøget you’ll find the city hall, and beyond it the amusement park Tivoli. Taking advantage of the weather – and the recommendation of our host/landlord – we pay our C$20/ea for admission and spend the remainder of the evening on the lovely grounds, enjoying a Viking feast amidst various music acts and illuminations.
Monday - 16:22 What’s this? A rain shower? Could my good-weather streak finally be coming to a screeching halt? We don our rain gear while on this canal cruise of Copenhagen. The precipitation turns out to be minimal, and soon enough the umbrellas are retracted. It had been a fine day, with two 90-minute walking tours guided by a New Yorker (New Jersey, actually, but who wants to advertise that? ) who’s been living in Denmark for two decades and plays the part of Hans Christian Andersen, right down to his garb. In between we learn the art of smørrebrød, the Danish open-face sandwich, though these have about as much in common with conventional sandwiches as Gorgonzola has with Velveeta. Start with buttered thin rye bread, and then artistically build from that with features such as pork liver pate with red cabbage, fried herring and onions with curry mayonnaise, or shrimp & egg salad with dill. A sample platter of three is a great intro, accompanied by a Danish micro brew such as Ale No.16, or a nice Aalborg aquavit with dill or caraway. Now we’re cruising around the city’s canals, built to rival those of Amsterdam. On the seaway we see the Little Mermaid statue, smaller than one would expect, and in the distance three cruise ships, including Constellation which we sailed last year.
Tuesday - 01:01 Walking, again. We’d spent the evening, indeed possibly the high point of our Denmark visit, with our hosts Arne & Helle, part of the cross-cultural ‘Dine with the Danes’ program. Good food, great conversation, an insight into Danish society, and some fine schnapps were all enjoyed in their top-floor flat. Thanks for letting us experience Danish hyggelig! We now know what it means, if not how to pronounce it. Bettina Ritter of German Radio was also present, and has sent us her broadcast report of the evening. More than five hours later, however, we left with full stomachs and happy hearts, only to learn that the next train would take us only one station down the tracks, and from there we’d have to walk home. A girl from Liverpool is in the same predicament, and so we walk the streets and canals an hour back to Lergravsparken, on Amager, where Jen somehow finds our flat (the Liverpool girl had insisted on sending us in the wrong direction, and I was far too inebriated to notice). Later, after a good night’s sleep, we’d enjoy fine Danish pastries in Roskilde, before seeing the Viking museum. Hangover food would continue with a coke and a sausage (the other national food) at the station – cost: US$8.
Wednesday - 23:11 Ah, Liverpoolers again. This time we’re in O’Leary’s sports bar in Copenhagen Station, crowded around many television screens to watch the Champions League final between Liverpool and AC Milan. 3 hours earlier we’d been in Malmo, Sweden, where Italians in a pre-match celebration were circling the town square in rented open-back trucks, screaming and blowing horns. They’d take a 3-nil lead in the match, only to squander it and lose on penalty kicks. We’d spent the day kicking around the Øresund, the body of water that separates Denmark and Sweden and divides the Baltic from the North Sea. The seaside modern art museum called ‘Louisiana’ (no cajuns) and Kronberg castle (‘Elsinor’ of Hamlet fame) were the morning’s highlights, followed by smørrebrød, ice cream, and a ride across the sound. In the afternoon we visited Helsingborg, Sweden, followed by the university town of Lund, with it’s medieval centre and many fachwerk buildings.
Thursday - 22:29 WET Our FlyBus rolls into Reykjavik, the sun still visible in the northwestern sky at this hour in latitude 64 N. We contemplate dinner, but that would throw off our schedule. Besides, we’d enjoyed another fine smørrebrød and schnaps lunch, though we’d walked off much of that in Copenhagen as well as at Kastrup Airport. Rivalling Amsterdam Schipol in the quantity and quality of shopping available to the traveller, and complete with an airy and bright Danish design along with hardwood floors, CPH can’t be beat. KEF, on the other hand, is tiny, but still provides hardwood floors like CPH, ARN, and HEL. The airport ATM this time won’t give me any cash. Only later do I realise that I’ve taken out too much already today, in order to pay our landlord/host for the flat and reimburse Dine with theDanes.
Friday 19:44 We’ve completed the ‘Golden Circle,’ perhaps the most spectacular excursion you’ll ever take. Started off with Nesjavellir, the geothermal field and plant which provides electricity and hot water (via a pipeline we’ve been seeing along the side of the road) to Reykjavik and environs. The place looks and sounds like one would imagine Mars, stacks of steam pouting out of the ground left and right. We walk for a while on a lava hill, our boots warmed by the earth below us, until we reach a vista where we see mountains, glaciers, and Lake Þingvellir. Later we ride down to Þingvellir, traversing the crevasses that divide the North American and Eurasian continental plates. From Þingvellir we pass around the lake, over mountains, and through lava and geysir fields to get to Gullfoss, Iceland’s best known waterfall and one that rivals Niagara in the way you can get close up to it, alongside and above, and experience the thunderous rush and the mist. After a US$40 lunch of lamb soup and a shrimp salad sandwich (ok, so that’s with coffee), we hit Geysir, which itself erupts only twice a day since the earthquake of 2000. Strokkur, several metres away however, goes off every four or five minutes, and is a great site to stand around for a bit. Other highlights included a crater lake and another waterfall with a salmon run.
Saturday 18:31 I’m letting my boots and socks dry out as Andrej drives our customised 4x4 Econoline van through streams and rocky riverbeds. We’d crossed a stream by foot to pass through a ravine in the valley of Þórsmörk (‘Thor’s Woods’), our last stop of the day. The canyon could be in Arizona or Colorado. The waterfall we’d seen – and walked behind – that morning could have been in Hawaii. The surrounding mountains resemble New Zealand, so much so that Iceland had been scouted as a possible location for the Lord of the Rings series, Tolkien having spent much time here. An occasional peak reminds one of Switzerland. The glacier and icebergs we’d hiked around midday, perhaps Greenland or Antarctica. The mossed lava, more like something extra-terrestrial. Put those all together, shake well (not stirred), chill, and you’ve got Iceland.
Sunday 19:03 EDT That sinking feeling as the baggage carousel stops. Only two passengers from your flight remain, and you’ve got only one of two matching bags in hand. Oh well. You’re still feeling relaxed from the Blue Lagoon, the mineral spa at the geothermal plant. Felt nice after a morning of horseback riding. Love those Icelandic ponies. Mine just wanted to run, going full trot every time another horse came near us. 40 C water and mineral salts were a nice soother for saddle-sores. So what if Icelandair lost your bag? Like you haven’t been through that recently? Fill out a report (“Can you describe your bag, sir?” You hold up the other one, “yeah, just like this”) and have a meal, finally, at Cheesecake Factory. You’ll have a good night’s sleep and a nice drive through Vermont tomorrow, no hurry but it will be nice to be back home.
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