Towers, Castles, and Happy Happenstance

Since today was my last full day here, I ended up cramming in quite a lot.  After breakfast, I kicked the day off by walking down cool streets like this:

 

to get to this:

 

The Round Tower, as it is aptly named, was built by Christian IV in the 1600s as an observatory/astronomy tower, and for a few centuries it also housed the library of the University of Copenhagen.  It is attached to Trinity Church, where I stopped first to take a look and also to say prayers for some friends who are going through really difficult things right now.  

 

I then began my ascent up the tower.  Instead of having stairs, it simply has a steep ramp that circles you 7 1/2 times before you reach the top.  It was built this way so heavy equipment could be brought up by cart.  I think the man in this photo was feeling a bit like one of the horses of yesteryear pushing his son up in the stroller.

 

Near what used to be the library (and is now an exhibition room undergoing renovation) was a conveniently placed loo.  A little explanatory brochure pointed out that since Hans Christian Andersen most certainly studied in the library, he probably made use of these facilities (just think of that the next time you read one of his fairy tales).  Bringing in a pipe to smoke while they took care of business was such a popular practice among students that there ended up being a thick layer of nicotine they had to scrape off the ceiling during renovations.

 

The center of the tower is hollow, and at one point towards the top, they give you the option of crawling in through a small entrance and standing on a glass plate so you can see the drop down.  I must admit that I needed to take a breath to do this, but it was pretty cool.  I think it helped to read that in 1880 a choir boy fell all the way down and lay trapped behind the thick walls of the core for almost a full day, only to emerge (miraculously) with only a scraped arm and a few loose teeth.  So, no biggie.

The reward at the end of the climb, which really wasn't that bad given the gradual nature of it, was this:

 

After making my way back down, I headed across the street for a strawberry, banana, and apple juice blend that I later calculated cost me about $8.  Food here in Copenhagen isn't cheap (understatement of the century)--I have yet to eat a meal that doesn't cost at least $20-25--and that's for a sandwich, although they are pretty great sandwiches.  Anyway, refreshed by my juice and consciously willing myself not to cry at the price, I headed over to Rosenborg Castle, which was only a few blocks away.  The grounds there are beautiful, and quite a few people were enjoying sitting on benches, playing with their children, having picnics, etc.

 



The castle itself was built by Christian IV (shocker, I know) as a summer palace, but over the years it's turned into a kind of super fancy storage facility for the Royals to stash all their accumulated stuff.   There are rooms chock full of intricate clocks, crystal, everything and anything you can imagine made of gold, ivory carvings, etc.  Probably all the gifts they've received over the years, which adds up to quite a lot.  I guess if you've seen one gold clock with tiny figurines, you've seen them all.  I can imagine the kings and queens graciously thanking the giver, then as soon as the door closes beckoning a servant and saying, "Put it in Rosenborg" with an airy wave.  There were lots and lots of paintings and tapestries as well. 

 

 

The castle was beautiful and impressive for sure, but a reminder that I could never handle being a royal (not that this is ever a real possibility for me, but still).  It's all just a bit too heavy, ornate, and overwhelming for my taste.  This little cottage in the back is more my speed:

 

All that ostentatious wealth gave me an appetite, so I walked down to Nyhavn to see if I could get the sandwich from yesterday again (it was well worth a second go).  However, the place was packed, and the woman I spoke with informed me it would be an hour's wait.  That sandwich was good, but not worth waiting another hour, so I walked out and was just about to start wondering what to do next when I ran into one of the couples (Keith and Francis) from the UK party I'd sat next to yesterday.  They'd had the same idea, and when I told them about the wait, Keith said, "Well, let's go to the one across the street!"  The funny thing is that that was the restaurant their group had tried yesterday and it was too full, but today it was the other way around, and we ended up seated at a table with a pretty courtyard view right away.  While I am doing okay eating meals by myself and either people watching or reading on my Kindle, sharing a meal with Keith and Francis was much more enjoyable, and it is still making me smile that we ran into each other like that.

After a delightful meal together, they headed back to their hotel to pack for their flight back to London this afternoon and I walked over to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.  Just about everywhere you go here, you see signs for Carlsberg beer, and the man who owned that company (Carl Jacobsen) used his considerable fortune to build this museum to house his art collection.  There is a gorgeous atrium in the center that fills the place with light.

 

Most of the art collection is actually sculptures (hence the "Glyptotek"), which range from Ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Roman pieces to more contemporary French and Danish sculptures ("contemporary" meaning 19th-century).  There's this impressive hall, lined with a bunch of ancient Roman statues, where they have concerts and lectures:

 

And here are some of the more contemporary works by various French and Danish sculptors.  The photos don't really capture how beautiful and dynamic (and large) they are in person.  It was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.

(Adam and Eve after the Fall)

(The First Funeral)

 

(The Return of the Prodigal Son)

 

I've just come back from a wonderful traditional Danish dinner from a restaurant two doors down from my hotel that I've been eyeing for a couple days now.  A wee bit pricey, but worth the splurge for my final night in Copenhagen, especially the strawberries and cream at the end for dessert.  I don't know why European yogurt and cream is so much more delicious than American yogurt and cream, but the difference is dramatic enough that it was one of the things I was looking forward to when I was preparing for this trip.  And I made more new friends at dinner.  A man and woman were seated at the table right next to mine (which was about four inches away) and I was careful initially to stay focused on my book since I thought they were on a date.  But the man (Henry) initiated conversation about 10 minutes into our respective meals, and things just took off from there (turns out they're colleagues).  Quite the character, Henry is, and all I had to do was listen and nod and laugh for most of the rest of dinner.  He owns a company that produces organic salami--"The best salami in the world!"--and made it very clear what he thinks about the US FDA's stupid labeling rules about how some of the ingredients (I assume he's talking about the nitrates) could cause cancer.  As he pointed out and I will now think about every time I go to the grocery store, the water they mist the lettuce, etc. with is "full of bacteria" and "far more dangerous" than whatever's in his salami.  Of course, he could be slightly biased. 

 

In a totally unexpected and poignant moment (I had asked if he had any children) he said he had two sons, but his jovial confidence faltered for a moment and he stumbled over the word "two," then revealed that one of his sons died of cancer at age 26.  "So you have two sons," I said, and his colleague nodded and echoed, "two sons" and he nodded and repeated, "Yes, I have two sons."  I asked about them both, and the one who died was named Daniel after one of the "best people" Henry had ever met while doing business in Australia years ago.  And his own Henry, he said, had been a "beautiful person" and "as good a man" as the original.

 

Which reminds me of how at lunch, after I shared where I was visiting in Scotland, Keith shared a memory of when he was a boy living in northern Scotland because his father was in the Royal Air Force stationed there, and how he had his own little boat and he'd go out in the water every day with his dog in the boat with him and fish for hours, and those were some of the happiest days of his life.  "I'd almost forgotten about that," he said, and even his wife looked a little surprised, as though she hadn't heard about this before. 

 

I find it both strange (in an incredible sort of way) and deeply moving how you can get these intimate little glimpses into someone's heart and soul in such a short time of knowing them.  In a strange and counter-intuitive way way, I think there's actually something about being complete strangers and knowing that we'll probably never see each other again that allows us to sometimes reveal more of ourselves and be less guarded than we'd otherwise be.  Whatever it is, I feel I've been given something precious.

 

Tomorrow I pack my bags and head up to Helsingor.  I'll most likely take a little break from this blog and return to it on Sunday.  Until then, thanks for all the lovely comments and wishes, which have all been good company as I go about my days!