A Date With The Danes
A couple weekends ago I set out for the small Danish island of Bronholm. With the help of Uncle Keith I made contact with the distant relatives that we have on the island. They were happy to host me and told me to come on over! I had been excited about this opportunity since the day I decided I was moving to Sweden. I rushed out of my late Friday afternoon class, caught a bus to Ystad and caught a ferry from there that took me to Ronne, Bornholm.
The ferry ride itself was quite an adventure. It was the first time I had opted for the high speed catamaran style ferry (usually I save the money and take the 'slow boats' in this part of the world). As we left the harbor the sun was starting to set and lit the sky a blaze with a collection of pastels that highlighted the undersides of the low hanging clouds over the Baltic. The boat itself literally launches out to sea. By the time it hits full speed you are working to keep yourself on balance on the top decks of the ship as the wind coming across you works its best to push you over. The spray rises 3-4 meters off the back engines of the boat as it cuts this enormous wake in the rolling waves. The boats themselves are always a strange mix of characters. Half the people were Danish, half were Swedish, a handful of Americans, and some other vacationers from places in between. I bought a beer from the bar and settled in for the short ride.
Arrival:
Kenn-Erik and his two children, Kevin and Naya, greeted me at the ferry dock. Naya was carrying an American flag and Kevin had a sign with my name on it. Classic! All of us jumped in the car and we whisked away from the harbor up the steep streets of Ronne to the top of the hill where their homes were. We went directly to where I would be sleeping, Kenn-Erik's parents house, Carl and Lydia. I was greeted with open arms and kisses on the cheek. Wine and candles on the table, cheeses and meats, breads and spreads, grapes and fruits, I was in heaven. We ate, we drank and got to know one another until the wee hours of the night. Kenn-Erik and Carl planned out an appropriate route for us to tour the island the next morning. Kenn-Erik then took his children and went home for the night. I thought I would get to turn in as well, but Carl had other plans. Carl is this salty sailor type that made his living as a photographer. He's incredibly knowledgeable about the island and the history of Denmark. Thanks to the few glasses of wine he had during our evening snack he was now starting to open up a bit and trust his English a bit more. We sat by the stove for several hours looking through history books and newspapers about Bornholm and it's role in the second world war. Now, as a general rule of thumb I don't care much for history. I prefer to look forward and not back, but it is an interesting subject when you hear stories from Europeans. They lived in it, while we simply participated in it...there's a big difference in perception of the events. Bornholm was bombed heavily by the Russians two days before the surrender of the Germans (who were maintaining occupation of the island). The German refusal to surrender to the Soviets led to two days of sustained bombing raids that took out 4000 civilian homes in the two major cities. The casualties were mainly collateral and included woman and children. During the raids, the radios that transmitted communication to the mainland of Denmark were silenced as the government didn't want to spoil the liberation dances happening in Copenhagen.
Day 2:
I woke up right on time and began preparing for the day ahead. As I made my way from the small little shed that I had slept in to the kitchen I stopped by the bathroom to try to calm my unruly locks and brush my teeth. We ate a typical Danish breakfast of toast, spreads, a sweet roll and a couple pieces of salami and cheese. Lydia packed Kenn-Erik and I a lunch and we were off. From the north to the south of the island it's really a tale of two islands. The landscape changes dramatically from one end to the other. The north is dominated by a midevil castle and jagged stone beaches. The south has white sand beaches and reed grass that blows gently in the wind. Along the way you find true Danish charm around every bend. Along the roadside there are makeshift apple stands where the owners simply leave a box of produce and a can that you can deposit some money into if you feel like a snack. City after city the island builds on its character. All roads seem to lead to harbors within the small city centers. Some hold only a few boats, but all cities have some form of a port. Salty sailing vessels sit silent from the crashing waves thanks to the protection provided by crudely constructed rock walls that break the ocean waves. Each city has several herring smoking houses that would have run at full capacity when herring was the primary commodity of the island. Now, with the globalization, the fishing industry has taken a huge hit. The herring became less and less in that part of the Baltic and with the price of labor being so much cheaper in eastern Europe the fishing has moved to other countries like Poland and Estonia. Kenn-Erik use to work at a fish processing plant, but since the plant shut down he had to examine his future and is working to obtain a teaching certification so he can make a career change and stay on the island.
A quick jaunt up the ultra steep (14% grade) streets and we quickly find ourselves high above the villages along the shore. Once there the view is amazing. Red tiled roofs stacked in tightly with the ocean in the background. Postcard after postcard shows itself as you make your way around the island. The highlight for me was on the south of the island where the landscape turns to white sand beaches and reed grass. Rolling sand dunes that lead down to the water. I dipped my feet in the water to say that I dipped my toe in yet another part of the Baltic. After we watched the waves crash for awhile we headed back home for dinner.
Dinner was a great combination of chicken, potatoes, red cabbage, and gravy. Dessert of course, and coffee was a must. After the meal I entertained the kids with some 'magic' tricks and taught them how to make fart sounds with their armpits. I fielded questions about home from the adults into the late hours of the night. I had been in Europe exactly one month that day. It was the first time since I got here I felt like I was 'home'.
Day 3:
Lydia decided that since it was my last day on the island we were going to start the day with some schnapps. A shot or so later topped off with two cups of strong coffee and a sweet roll, we set off for a short tour of the interior of the island. The interior of the island is a forest mixed with farm fields that are scattered about. Fall was in the air as the temperature was cool as the farmers were plowing under the crops from the summer in prep for the winter ahead. Our first stop was a lookout tower that is the highest point on the island. As we climbed to the top the rain picked up. When we got to the top the view was gray and drab on this gloomy morning. After the tower it was time to see where our family hailed from. The church Hans Theodore was married in, the house he grew up in as a boy, and some spots along the way. It was a short trip as I had to catch an early ferry to head back to Sweden. We wrapped up the day with a feast of Thai food that Kenn-Erik's wife Nit cooked for us. I gave the kids some chocolate bars that I brought from Sweden with me and thanked the family for hosting me and showing me such a wonderful time. I have an open ended invitation to come back anytime I want. Perhaps I'll try to make it back over in the spring when Carl-Erik launches the sail boat for the summer.
The ride back:
As I sat on the ferry watching the sun set over the ocean I thought about the sterotype that gets told a lot in this part of the world....the stereotype that Danes are the happiest people in the world. Since I haven't been everywhere in the world it would make it hard for me to make an accurate assesment, but if I had to pick between the folks I've met from across the Nordic countries I've been to, I would say that in fact the Danes win the prize.
The ferry ride itself was quite an adventure. It was the first time I had opted for the high speed catamaran style ferry (usually I save the money and take the 'slow boats' in this part of the world). As we left the harbor the sun was starting to set and lit the sky a blaze with a collection of pastels that highlighted the undersides of the low hanging clouds over the Baltic. The boat itself literally launches out to sea. By the time it hits full speed you are working to keep yourself on balance on the top decks of the ship as the wind coming across you works its best to push you over. The spray rises 3-4 meters off the back engines of the boat as it cuts this enormous wake in the rolling waves. The boats themselves are always a strange mix of characters. Half the people were Danish, half were Swedish, a handful of Americans, and some other vacationers from places in between. I bought a beer from the bar and settled in for the short ride.
Arrival:
Kenn-Erik and his two children, Kevin and Naya, greeted me at the ferry dock. Naya was carrying an American flag and Kevin had a sign with my name on it. Classic! All of us jumped in the car and we whisked away from the harbor up the steep streets of Ronne to the top of the hill where their homes were. We went directly to where I would be sleeping, Kenn-Erik's parents house, Carl and Lydia. I was greeted with open arms and kisses on the cheek. Wine and candles on the table, cheeses and meats, breads and spreads, grapes and fruits, I was in heaven. We ate, we drank and got to know one another until the wee hours of the night. Kenn-Erik and Carl planned out an appropriate route for us to tour the island the next morning. Kenn-Erik then took his children and went home for the night. I thought I would get to turn in as well, but Carl had other plans. Carl is this salty sailor type that made his living as a photographer. He's incredibly knowledgeable about the island and the history of Denmark. Thanks to the few glasses of wine he had during our evening snack he was now starting to open up a bit and trust his English a bit more. We sat by the stove for several hours looking through history books and newspapers about Bornholm and it's role in the second world war. Now, as a general rule of thumb I don't care much for history. I prefer to look forward and not back, but it is an interesting subject when you hear stories from Europeans. They lived in it, while we simply participated in it...there's a big difference in perception of the events. Bornholm was bombed heavily by the Russians two days before the surrender of the Germans (who were maintaining occupation of the island). The German refusal to surrender to the Soviets led to two days of sustained bombing raids that took out 4000 civilian homes in the two major cities. The casualties were mainly collateral and included woman and children. During the raids, the radios that transmitted communication to the mainland of Denmark were silenced as the government didn't want to spoil the liberation dances happening in Copenhagen.
Day 2:
I woke up right on time and began preparing for the day ahead. As I made my way from the small little shed that I had slept in to the kitchen I stopped by the bathroom to try to calm my unruly locks and brush my teeth. We ate a typical Danish breakfast of toast, spreads, a sweet roll and a couple pieces of salami and cheese. Lydia packed Kenn-Erik and I a lunch and we were off. From the north to the south of the island it's really a tale of two islands. The landscape changes dramatically from one end to the other. The north is dominated by a midevil castle and jagged stone beaches. The south has white sand beaches and reed grass that blows gently in the wind. Along the way you find true Danish charm around every bend. Along the roadside there are makeshift apple stands where the owners simply leave a box of produce and a can that you can deposit some money into if you feel like a snack. City after city the island builds on its character. All roads seem to lead to harbors within the small city centers. Some hold only a few boats, but all cities have some form of a port. Salty sailing vessels sit silent from the crashing waves thanks to the protection provided by crudely constructed rock walls that break the ocean waves. Each city has several herring smoking houses that would have run at full capacity when herring was the primary commodity of the island. Now, with the globalization, the fishing industry has taken a huge hit. The herring became less and less in that part of the Baltic and with the price of labor being so much cheaper in eastern Europe the fishing has moved to other countries like Poland and Estonia. Kenn-Erik use to work at a fish processing plant, but since the plant shut down he had to examine his future and is working to obtain a teaching certification so he can make a career change and stay on the island.
A quick jaunt up the ultra steep (14% grade) streets and we quickly find ourselves high above the villages along the shore. Once there the view is amazing. Red tiled roofs stacked in tightly with the ocean in the background. Postcard after postcard shows itself as you make your way around the island. The highlight for me was on the south of the island where the landscape turns to white sand beaches and reed grass. Rolling sand dunes that lead down to the water. I dipped my feet in the water to say that I dipped my toe in yet another part of the Baltic. After we watched the waves crash for awhile we headed back home for dinner.
Dinner was a great combination of chicken, potatoes, red cabbage, and gravy. Dessert of course, and coffee was a must. After the meal I entertained the kids with some 'magic' tricks and taught them how to make fart sounds with their armpits. I fielded questions about home from the adults into the late hours of the night. I had been in Europe exactly one month that day. It was the first time since I got here I felt like I was 'home'.
Day 3:
Lydia decided that since it was my last day on the island we were going to start the day with some schnapps. A shot or so later topped off with two cups of strong coffee and a sweet roll, we set off for a short tour of the interior of the island. The interior of the island is a forest mixed with farm fields that are scattered about. Fall was in the air as the temperature was cool as the farmers were plowing under the crops from the summer in prep for the winter ahead. Our first stop was a lookout tower that is the highest point on the island. As we climbed to the top the rain picked up. When we got to the top the view was gray and drab on this gloomy morning. After the tower it was time to see where our family hailed from. The church Hans Theodore was married in, the house he grew up in as a boy, and some spots along the way. It was a short trip as I had to catch an early ferry to head back to Sweden. We wrapped up the day with a feast of Thai food that Kenn-Erik's wife Nit cooked for us. I gave the kids some chocolate bars that I brought from Sweden with me and thanked the family for hosting me and showing me such a wonderful time. I have an open ended invitation to come back anytime I want. Perhaps I'll try to make it back over in the spring when Carl-Erik launches the sail boat for the summer.
The ride back:
As I sat on the ferry watching the sun set over the ocean I thought about the sterotype that gets told a lot in this part of the world....the stereotype that Danes are the happiest people in the world. Since I haven't been everywhere in the world it would make it hard for me to make an accurate assesment, but if I had to pick between the folks I've met from across the Nordic countries I've been to, I would say that in fact the Danes win the prize.
posted by The dudes dude @ 12:04 PM
1 Comments:
So glad you had a good time with our distant (now not so distant) family. I knew you would get along w/ them; especially the kids. We will have to head on over to Bornholm in June when I pop on over the 'pond' for your graduation.
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