Roskilde

Roskilde Cathedral seen from Lauren and Tim's apartment

 My first day of actual alertness in Denmark was a cool, drizzly sort of day, which Lauren assured me is typical here (her information has proven quite accurate thus far).  As in Oregon, where we both grew up: life just goes on in spite of the wetness!  So we put on our coats and set out for Roskilde.

I want this house.

Denmark makes me feel like a real photographer, when the reality is that it's all just pretty. There are no trashy houses on these streets. It's all clay tiled roofs, brick and stucco walls, large windows, riotous gardens, and cobbled sidewalks. Basically beautiful.

The first thing I had to learn while walking here is that you must not only watch out for cars, but also for bikes.  They have their own lane between the road and the sidewalk and require special care: unlike cars, you can't hear bikes coming.  Most people ride here, so pretty raincoats, scarves, and cute rubber boots or flats are not mere fashion statements, they're also practical.  Likewise skinny jeans don't drag on wet cobbles or get tangled in bike chains, so they are the pant-style of choice.

(The second thing I had to learn was how to be

selective with my photographic targets,

lest I come home every day with

600 photos of pretty doors

and roses.)

In Roskilde the annual music festival was coming to a close, so there was a fair crowd.  We never heard any of the bands play -- I'm not even sure where exactly the festival was taking place.  One night Lauren and I set out in search of distant music, but we lost the sound amongst the buildings and never found the source... We decided it was okay, as we weren't impressed by the fact that throughout our entire quest either the song didn't change, or it did and all their music just sounded the same.

The main streets are cozy looking, even in the rain.    Parts of town are closed to all but bike and foot traffic.   There are small groccery stores full of foods with unfamiliar labels; boutiques full of light-colored linens and all the lovely dresses I can never find in the US; and restaurants full of friendly smells.  Oddly, all the businesses are set up for outdoor vending, despite the quixotic weather.  When it rains either they cover the outdoor clothing racks with specially made plastic covers, or they put an umbrella over the display of shoes, or they wrap their patrons in blankets (printed with the cafe's logo), or they simply let everything get wet and figure, hey, rubber boots and plastic toys will dry.

 

I was rather damp upon arrival, so in lieu of latching the barn door behind the stolen horse, I bought an umbrella.  I also withdrew some Danish kroner from the ATM so that I could begin a collection of humorous interactions with store clerks who now have to help me count my change.

Handily, all Danes really do speak English, and the majority of them do so flawlessly.  However I guess it's considered rude to speak English amongst your fellow Danes (?), so they always start with Danish. There's the awkward moment when they realize you don't actually know what they've just said, then they smoothly repeat the translation for you.  It was fun watching the lady at the airport passport control switch between languages based upon her reading of the passport covers; she greeted a German couple, a few Danish people, and when she got to me, her accent sounded completely American.  It really makes me want to learn another language -- or three...

Lauren took me to her favorite coffee shop in Roskilde: Kaffe Kilden. It was warm. And dry. And full of coffee air and nice textures. I got a delicious chai tea and we sat in comfort and took pictures of each other and of the plush orange sofas that were sitting out in the square, soaking up rain water. Never did figure that one out...

Over the next few days we were in and out of town regularly, either to hang out with the boys (Tim and Isaac), or escort Tim to his train (he had a conference on the other island), or just because.  As a consequence all my days are now mixed up and back to front.  Here are my snapshots, in no particular order.

We saw Roskilde Cathedral up close.  It's a beautiful building, and you can see the towers from anywhere in Roskilde, which makes it a handy way to get your bearings if you do what Lauren and I have done (that is, take shortcuts down streets that don't go where you think they're going to go).

There are rather a lot of little bakeries.  My first pastry purchase was an accidental joke: I was looking over the shelves for something that looked yummy, then I just pointed for the benefit of the salesgirl, and it wasn't until I got outside that I realized I'd ordered a danish.    Here it's called wienerbrød.  It was delish.

We went out to the fjord three times, once on a sunny day with the boys (and Isaac played on the playground), and twice on a cloudy day with just us girls. There's a viking museum, boats, and a lovely trail leading out the back with a sliver of beach, open fields, and cows.

 

When it started to rain on us we ducked into a thicket (yes, an actual thicket) to pack up the cameras before they got wet.  This slightly damp self-portrait is representative of many other such caught-out-in-the-rain moments when we didn't pause to photograph ourselves.

On Sunday we went to Lauren and Tim's church, and I got to meet a few of their friends.  Everyone was very friendly and kind to me, especially Gitte (with whom Lauren and I sat in the rare sunshine and talked travel aspirations) and Solvej (who made excellent work of translating Hasse's sermon for us).  Usually half the worship music at Roskilde Vineyard is sung in Danish, half in English, but this time it was all Danish, so I hummed along, tried to sing a few in Danish, and sang the couple that I had memorized in English.  It really is a small world, and in no other context is that thought so lovely as when you worship somewhere outside your own home church.

We walked Tim to his train, since he had to go to the other island for a conference. While Lauren and Tim were saying good-bye, Isaac was trying to prop up a sign with Tim's rolling suitcase. It was even funnier in person, I promise.

Isaac likes to periodically check my whereabouts by hollering, "Sars?"  When we're walking together he occasionally gets around behind me and pushes when he thinks I'm not walking fast enough.  Sometimes I pretend to fall over backwards on top of him.  He knows a little Danish, mostly "nej" (pronounced "nigh"), which means "no."  Fortunately, he enjoys watching movies in which the characters aren't speaking English.  When I tell him to smile for the camera, he makes this face:

We walk a lot in Roskilde.  At the end of the day, we curl up with a glass of wine, watch Anne of Green Gables or Chuck or weird indie movies from the library.  At around 11pm the sun goes down.

Up next, the Isle of Guernsey!