paralyzedbynotcaring

Walking around and looking around: London

I walked a little farther today and made it to the Tate Modern Museum, which is massive and full of strange and fascinating exhibits. On of the first things to catch my eye was this radio tower.

Many of the units were functioning and broadcasting talk radio. I have watched six episodes of Dr. Who, so I can say that from a distance this sculpture has a Dr Who-ish feel to it.

I also saw this gem which reminds of the quilts HK creates. I think this would be an excellent quilt, don’t you?

Also in the weird lines hall was this mind bender.

If that doesn’t cross your eyes, I don’t know what will. There should be a fainting couch next to it.

This one appealed to the darkness in my soul.

It’s what I imagine my own matrix code looks a little like.

No trip to a European museum would be complete with out a few water lilies, right? This one is so big I couldn’t get it in a single frame.

And I came across a sweet reminder from the Guerrilla Girls about women in art.

In case you are blind like me:

The Advantages of Being a Woman Artist:

Working without the pressure of success
Not having to be in shows with men
Having an escape from the art world in your 4 free-lance jobs
Knowing your career might pick up after you’re eighty
Being reassured that whatever kind of art you make it will be labeled feminine
Not being stuck in a tenured teaching position
Seeing your ideas live on in the work of others
Having the opportunity to choose between career and motherhood
Not having to choke on those big cigars or paint in Italian suits
Having more time to work after your mate dumps you for someone younger
Being included in revised versions of art history
Not having to undergo the embarrassment of being called a genius
Getting your picture in the art magazines wearing a gorilla suit.

After that wingdinger I came across the Gerhard Richter room. I knew it was his work before I read the sign. He is an artist I check in on occasionally to see if he has any exhibitions nearby. The Tate Modern has SIX of his paintings. They did not have my very favorite one (a pink and brown and black affair), but these were wonderful to see in the flesh. Here they are in order of favorite to most favorite.

These are obviously examples of abstract art. Richter would paint, then paint over the paint, then squeegee over the paint and allow the earlier paint to show through the top paint. In some places the paint is very thick, and in some it is very fine and delicate. I don’t know why I like these so much; usually abstract art is difficult for me. These though speak to and I hope someday to see the pink and brown and black one (pretty sure that’s the official name).

After this lucky find I was ready for some street food. I had some fried chicken and chips with mayo and the tiniest amount of ketchup imaginable.

I walked by the Globe–Shakespeare’s Globe–and had to keep walking. It was too overwhelming.

I went to Starbucks to dust my nuts and talk myself through getting in there.

No tickets available for any immediate showings of Macbeth or Midsummer, but the box office artist advised me to wait in the standby queue prior to the play to buy the no-show tickets. This is now the plan.

The Uber driver who helped me not have to walk back to KB’s asked me about Trump. We both sighed.

I am reading Cleopatra; The Night Manager; and Scarlet, by Marissa Meyer.

London

Dad, at press time, is en route to Manton and I am here in London with KB. Today we drove to a winery outside of London, where I discovered a) London is ridiculously huge and b) you don’t have to travel to Bordeaux for good wine.

It’s been sunny and beautiful since my arrival yesterday, though rain is in the forecast. Being among humans–first Dad and now KB&Co.–makes for a very different experience than traveling solo. For one thing I have to warm up my voice before talking to someone less.

I am within walking distance of many thing to see and eat, so that is the plan for the immediate future. They speak a kind of English here, so I think I will be able to get by. Pinterest has as ever been helpful with tips and suggestions, and of course the locals I’m staying with know all the things. KB has to work tomorrow like a normal person leaving me at liberty to do my walking around and looking around.

I am reading The Night Manager by John Le Carré and Cleopatra by Stacy Schiff.

The Prince of Denmark

Today in the scorching 17 degree C heat we decided to visit Kronborg Castle, aka Elsinore (Helsigno-with-line-through-it-r in Danske). To do so we had to take the Metro to the train to Helsignor. This proved to be a challenge in that both the metro and the train stop at Norreport, but there is no direct connection–we had to come to the surface and then descend different stairs to switch means of transport. This was irritating and confusing and ROTTEN.

Once we were on the train though I was able to turn the rage down enough to be excited about seeing the setting of Hamlet. In the “summertime,” July and August, there are events at Kronborg, including Hamlet Live, wherein you encounter short scenes from the play as you explore the castle and its grounds.

We knew we had the right place when the train station had this posted.

We stopped at Dad’s favorite restaurant in Denmark, the 7 Eleven, for snacks.

The train station itself was beautiful.

But the real stunner was outside the station.

Bingo!

We crossed two moats to get to the castle.

And the second one…

This is about the time I gave dad a Hamlet refresher (he couldn’t remember if he’d seen it on Wishbone or not), so he was prepared when we saw the scene in the chapel.

That’s Hamlet sneaking up on his uncle, who is kneeling at the altar.

The scenes were brief and spaced out, so we had some time to explore the castle. We arrived as one procession of the scenes was over half way through, so everything was all out of order. Dad said it didn’t matter to him, and it didn’t matter to me either.

The Hamlet-Laertes fencing match was impressive. I can say this sagely because of the five fencing lessons I took from a Groupon Deal (left-handed fencing gloves are hard to find, by the way).

And Polonius’ murder was dramatical enough to scare children (always a pleasant experience for me). I took a professional iphone video of this crime, but free versions of wordpress do not allow video uploads. See instagram for films.

Here is our prince hiding from Polonius, who keeps asking him annoying questions, like What are you reading? and Do you know who I am? Like a madman or something.

The courtyard looks like this, surrounded on all four sides by the castle.

We also ventured down into some sort of tunnel and saw King Hamlet’s Ghost, which was a fairly convincing hologram. I am not saying I’d go kill my uncle, but I’m saying if this ghost told me to, I’d consider it.

Probably my favorite scene was one we stumbled across accidentally as we were leaving. Hamlet, too, came across the grave digger, who spoke some nonsense and then ran away. Hamlet was on the receiving end of crazytalk for once. Look at his expression.

FullSizeRender(3)

That’s the grave digger running away on the right.

At times it was a bit campy, but it was necessary to inject more humor than a straight reading would allow. All the actors were great at this. The castle was impressive and the scenes were very well done.

Who could *not* get in the spirit in a place like this?

And it didn’t even start to do that crazy, float up and under your umbrella mist rain in your face until we were on our way back to the hotel, which I thought was decent of the weather to do.

We ate in a little place on Nyhavn, which in case you’ve forgotten looks like this.

Quaint as ever.

Dad is heading back to the USA tomorrow on a scandalously early 6am flight. I am heading to London to see KB at a decent hour (flight is at noon).

Travels with Dad has been different, but I think we’ve been successful. Dad said today that he thinks 2 weeks is his European limit. I am not sure what my limit is, but I’m not quite there yet.

Check back tomorrow.

Riga to Copenhagen

There and back again. We left our hotel in Riga at 8am before dad had finished his first of his usual 4 coffees, so we were both a wreck. We stood in the Every Airline Except Baltic Airline check in line, only to be told this is the Oh And Except Finn Airline Line as well. So we stood in the Finn Airline Line. Then we were told we got bumped from the Finn Air flight and will take Air Baltic. So we stood in the Air Baltic line. By this time I needed to go stand in the WC line as well. After that we stood in the security line. As we neared the front of the security line, dad realized he still had Lil Bro’s loan pocket knife on him, so we had to go stand in the Air Baltic check in line again and check dad’s carry on. We almost drowned in the sweat pouring off dad as he realized he had a knife in his pocket, but we somehow survived to stand in the security line again and were still in time to go stand in the booze line where we felt right at home.

Back in Copenhagen we hopped on the now familiar train to the central station and took a taxi to our hotel. I took a nap and dad had a sandwich by the canal. For dinner we had 5 types of herring and other less interesting things.

Dad’s favorite was the maroon and my favorite was the purple.

We ate along the Nyhavn Canal under heat lamps and jackets. Another beautiful summer day.

Nyhavn is still adorable. Observe.

I found watermelon ice cream on the walk home, so that happened.

We can see the groovy spiral acid flashback church from a distance near our hotel.

Tomorrow is Dad’s last full day abroad so we are going to fulfill his lifelong dream of going to HAMLET’S CASTLE!!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You me and the KGB

I didn’t sleep well last night and had to drag myself to the KGB corner house with dad. We walked by way of Alberta Street, famous for building after building in the art nuevo style.

The buildings were ornately designed, some with statues as columns, some with sphinx gargoyles.

Once we got to the KGB house, a free exhibition, the pictures, documents, and informational texts didn’t do much to invigorate me. Latvia was occupied by the soviets, then the nazis, then the soviets again, and if I understood the postings correctly, the nazi occupation was a relief from the soviets.

Let that sink in.

Bars on the windows, uneven footing, narrow doorways, a small courtyard, and a turret for the execution room. No thank you.

I’d never considered WWII from a Baltic perspective before. I am not sure I could have handled it anyway back when I was first learning about all this violence for the first time.

Out and around the corner is St. Gertrude’s, and we stepped in to for some sanity.

St. Gertrude is the patron saint of travellers.

The skies promised rain, but we were able to take some pictures.

Dad has the double glasses look down.

We also stopped by a fancy bakery, meaning I went to a fancy bakery and dad waited outside.

Dad doesn’t do foo-foo, which is too bad because I had an excellent apricot cheesecake something or other.

We walked down to old town for the last time and did a farewell tour of our restaurants and shops and parks. It started sprinkling on our walk back to the hotel, and by they time we tucked ourselves in for a nap, it was raining. It is still raining now, a beautiful Baltic summer night.

Total miles walked: 4.87.

Tomorrow we fly back to Copenhagen. Dad flies home from there on Saturday. I will go see KB in London.

Black balsaming my way through life

Today the bus tour must have been rerouted because we ended up disembarking precisely where we had begun, and that can’t possibly be due to all the black balsam we’ve imbibed, right? We saw the Nativity Cathedral, an Orthodox Russian church, which is even more impressive in person.

I really do think it might be bigger on the inside.

I didn’t get much farther than this because a large sign advised that all women should be appropriately dressed in skirts and head coverings, neither of which I was wearing or even packed. Dad said a lot of women were in street clothes past this point, but I am trying to put off being escorted out of a church for as long as possible. I waited outside.

We decided then to walk to the KGB house, and along the way we ate burgers and pink soup. The KGB house turned out to be closed on Tuesdays, so we went to the Riga National Museum instead. There is a lot of modern (20th c) art here, and probably my favorite thing was watching dad read the painting’s title, step back and look, and then step in to read the title again, this time with his glasses, then step back and shake his head in a sort of ehhh-is-this-a-first-draft? sort of way.

There were some winning pieces though, notably the Madonna with a Machine Gun:

Vodka:

and this somewhat confounding painting of Moses, Aaron, and Hur:

Admittedly, I don’t know who is who, but I can’t get past the sparkler headband in center stage. What is this supposed to represent? It is not near the traditional aureole that signposts divinity. Maybe this is an after party I was never invited to.

We made our way to the city center to again admire the House of the Blackheads–one of the most beautiful buildings I’ve ever seen.

That’s it on the right. It catches you by the lungs when you see it for the first time as you come around a corner.

I found a bakery and enjoyed some Latvian dessert, but dad said it was too fancy for him as my mint leaves uncurled in my tea.

Guess what I ordered.

Anyway we found a shop where dad was more comfortable.

See that bag? Yes, he BOUGHT things today. Here you have it, the eighth wonder.

After a cafe dinner that included herring that I am too polite to describe (dad loved it) & a black balsam cocktail better than Christmas, we walked back to the hotel by way of the Opera house.

Notice no one is about. The streets are very low key and the crowds haven’t been close to overwhelming (Prague had throngs of people pushing through narrow streets). Riga is the largest city in the Baltics, but it is still small enough to walk comfortably (cobblestones aside). The city buses share the road with trams and city vans, just smaller versions of the bus. There are fewer bicyclists here, much to my relief. And there are a normal amount of cars*. I have been impressed with everyone’s ability to speak English, the quality of the food, and the beauty and accessibility of everything. Riga has more than delivered.

Tomorrow, KGB house or bust.

Miles walked: 7.02

*The car tax in Denmark is 180%; noticeably fewer cars are there. Loads of parking, though.

Another day another country

Yesterday we travelled from Hamburg to Riga, Latvia, by plane (I was able to talk Dad down from he We Have To Take a Ferry insanity), but our flight wasn’t until after 7pm (19:00) so we had time in Hamburg to continue to enjoy the LGBTQ Pride street fair, which included hamburgers and a lot of really upbeat music. Every other street vendor was selling cocktails before noon. I had to pry dad away from this scene so we could see a few more sights, including city hall. I particularly liked city hall because there were plenty of benches.

We then walked down to the warehouse district, which is is prettier than it sounds.

The warehouses are made of brick and are separated by canals, as you can see.

It was an excellent day (barely a threat of rain), so walking so far from our hotel wasn’t as much of a gamble as usual.

We walked down to the Maritime Museum, where the largest collection of model boats is housed. Yes, one is made completely of legos. Also included are many beautiful paintings of nautical scenes. They basically look either like this

or like something seriously nasty is about to happen (not pictured). I particularly enjoyed the harpoons and knots.

Doesn’t the knot on the lower left look like a sea scorpion?

We also paid our respects to Leif, who sort of discovered America.

Not to be outdone, Columbus motions to the sun to settle down.

We took the train from our hotel to the main train station (our hotel was just outside the train station and it was very easy), but from the main train station the right train to the airport was a little confusing. The platform said airport, the train display said airport, but some displays said “first three cars.” Well, we weren’t sure if it was the first three cars from the engine or the first three cars from the platform and you better bet we guessed wrong. After several stops, the train paused for an unusually long time at the stop just before the airport. Another passenger, probably noticing our luggage and English, asked if we were going to the airport because if so the first three cars just left us. We jumped off the train to watch the first three cars scuttle off as though they’d just pulled the funniest prank on Earth. I should have known and I guess this makes Dad and me even for our trip through rural Sweden.

We got on the first car of the next train.

The main train station was much, much more bustling than the airport, which seems so strange to me. At any rate we checked our bags and had plenty of time before we boarded the bus to board the tiny plane to Riga. Many of the other passengers were men my age with long hair and rock band tee shirts. We guessed they were coming from a show (they were all pretty drained). Customs through Riga was a breeze as it was just walking by a lady leaning against a desk that had a “Customs” sign. Our taxi driver to the hotel was at least 7 feet tall. Dad fell asleep immediately.

Total miles walked: 6.7

Today was our first day in Riga, which is a small, flat (read: walkable) city. We found a post office and a bus tour without having to ask anyone, much to our mutual relief.

Here we are on the bus before I Hulk Broke the headphones.

We got off at the canal stop and then got on a boat with a five-year-old girl named Megan who objected to her life vest by protesting that she promised she wouldn’t get in the water anyway because she didn’t want to get her hair wet. The boat took us through the canal and into Daugava River. From here is a great view of their wedge-shaped library.

Here we are on the boat.

On a side note dad only looks happy when he doesn’t know I’m taking a picture. As in above, when I ask first, he gives this are-you-serious face. Candids from now on when possible.

After the canal tour we walked around old town and came across a few sights I’d read about on the fountain of information that is Pinterest.

We looked inside the Riga Cathedral.

Much stained glass and ornate molding, of course.

While I was taking photos like this one, Dad was busy documenting the retrofitting on the load-bearing columns.

We were also able to pretty easily find the Freedom Monument.

Latvia became a free country in 1991.

This small memorial is from the Baltic Way, when people from Estonia through Latvia to Lithuania joined hands for freedom in 1989.

We also came across this statue of a donkey, pig, cat, and rooster. It is supposed to be good luck if you can touch all four. The statue is tall though and I could reach only the donkey and pig. Half luck for me, half something else I guess.

I also serendipitously spotted the house of the black cat, which I think is just like every other house except that way back when the owner was trying to join the city’s guild, he was denied, so he put a black cat sculpture on top of his house and faced the cat’s rear end at the guild’s office. The guild relented, the home owner was admitted, and the cat’s ass now faces a different way.

As far as lore goes, this story seems watered down. I bet there is a REAL version out there somewhere.

Anyway, I remembered from the tour bus narration something about the house of the three brothers, so I was trying to guide us by it as we made our way back to the hotel. The streets here are anything but a symmetrical grid, so it is easy to trapezoid yourself out of orientation. Dad and I walked up a block, around it, looked at the map, but neither of us could see anything noteworthy or any signage. We didn’t notice the gaggle of tourists across the street aiming their cameras at us. We didn’t notice when a tour tram came up, stopped, unload a bunch of people who also took our picture, load up again, and then trammed off. We held the map upside down. We looked up and down the street. We tried to remember what the house of the three brothers even was and why it was mentioned on the tour. I noticed finally that a) the people across the street weren’t moving b) they seemed pissed at us, and I put together that we were right at the house of the three brothers. I took a picture of what everyone else seemed to be photographing:

As far as houses in Riga go, this one seemed pretty plain, but who am I to judge? I think things built before 1950 are old.

Now that I’m back at the hotel I did a quick search and realized that my map and/or memory was a poor translation. It isn’t house of the three brothers, but rather the Three Brothers, three consecutive houses that are the oldest in Riga and represent the three major architectural themes. So as it happens i took a picture of the One Brother. And the homeliest one at that.

Finally we had dinner at B-Bar, a place we chose because of its Black Balsam drinks. Black Balsam is a Latvian liquor made from, among many other things, wormwood. So either it was all a bit of hype and we made it back to the hotel ok OR this is the most G-rated trip ever and I am face down in a beautiful cobblestone ally waiting to be awakened by the street cleaner.

Hamburg

First I have to say that we have taken some pretty epic naps in Hamburg. Today we went to the top of St. Michael’s cathedral, the first of such things that I’ve encountered that had an elevator. Needless to say, I took the lift. Dad opted for the stairs, which probably lead to today’s siesta.

Here is the church.

Here is Michael taking out the trash.

Here I am at the top looking fresh after the elevator ride. Dad didn’t want to get that close to the edge.

Here’s the other view from the top, including the Elbe.

We’ve sampled some excellent local cuisine. Here is a pork knuckle.

We’ve taken in the sights. Here is Dad taking a picture of the post office.

We got on the tour bus, though the commentary was in excitable German.

The warehouse district was huge and brick and beautiful.

We also did a canal tour where we learned it is illegal to insult the swans.

Why would you want to?

The view from the boat was beautiful.

Hamburg is a lot bigger than I anticipated. I was picturing kind of a Bruges-like city, but Hamburg is huge and mostly modern. It has more bridges than Amsterdam, London, and Venice combined. There’s that old Venice envy again.

The rain has for the most part threatened but turned out to be sound and fury signifying nothing. I am glad I picked up that jacket in Copenhagen though. It’s windy here. Especially at the top of towers.

Don’t think I’ve escaped the Demon. Look at this.

Always stay vigilant, sir.

Tomorrow evening we fly to Riga, Latvia.

I am reading Good Behavior by Molly Keane and Cleopatra by Stacy Schiff. Dad is reading Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose.

Choo choo

Today we bought our train tickets to Hamburg and then went to Sweden to have lunch. Dad was very impressed with the train system. In Malmo, we split two sandwiches: duck and lamb. Can you guess which wich is which?

Then we walked around and looked around. This is just outside the main train station.

We looked at the fountains and brick buildings like good little tourists.The tourists look like this.

The buildings look like this.

We came across St. Peter’s, which listed many recognizable names on the priest list (Pederson, Hansen, Christensen).

A stone fountain had this irresistible carving.

We found a canal/small river and walked along it until the misty rain teamed up with some wind.

Another beautiful summer day!

On our meander back to the train station, I spied the Demon in a different disguise. I should have known then to be on my guard.

Back at the station we lined up for the return train; this train stops at the Copenhagen airport and then we must transfer to another train to get to the main station. Dad looked at the display on another train and decided it was better because it didn’t seem to require a transfer. The train came and I didn’t examine the board thoroughly before we were heading out.

I knew things were fishy when we didn’t get back on the bridge in short order.

Figuring this train was actually coming from Denmark, which is what Dad may have seen, we got off at a tiny outdoor station called Svedala before we ended up at the north pole with only a bottle of Arizona tea and a Kex Choklad to sustain us.

Luckily this station was not completely remote and soon other passengers arrived to wait for the train back to Malmo, though at first we were all alone on the misty platform. That Demon, I swear.

That was all a bit much for both of us and so we had to take a nap after returning to the hotel. We are now debating whether to pick up 7eleven sandos for dinner and call it a day. I am holding out for room service, but honestly it doesn’t look good.

Birthday boy

Today is Dad’s birthday so I woke up before God and we spend all day out and about. We rode the tour bus to the tour boat, where it promptly started pouring. The boat was uncovered, so we dashed across the street to the Christiansborg Palace. Right outside is this horseman and a statue of a slain polar bear that doesn’t need to be mentioned ever again.

Also outside is another building with this spectacular spire–three dragon’s tails winding towards Valhalla.

Once inside the Palace and safe from the rain, we put the required blue footie protectors over our feet and walked through the rooms to admire the artwork, history, and architecture. My favorite room was the Queen’s Library, which had books dating back to the 18th century.

Many of the rooms were large, with artwork depicting Danish history and molding so detailed it told its own story. Each room had a theme (Green Room, Velvet Room, Swedish People on Horses Room, etc.), but the throne room was different. It is oval rather than rectangular, and the floorboard pattern was designed keeping in mind that people had to face the throne as they departed, walking backwards. Stay one the right pattern track and you can back into the hall.

The larger throne is for the queen, naturally.

One room, the largest, had dazzlingly detailed tapestries of Danish history from Vikings to modern day. They were given to the Queen in 200o for her birthday. Though very colorful, I found them to be a bit overwhelming, and had to focus on finding little details or neverland or nemo. Well, look what I discovered.

There she is–the Last Unicorn! You really never know what you are going to find in a tapestry.

After the palace it was still a bit drizzly, so we had lunch and then took the bus to the mall. Dad wanted to find some Danish winter sweaters, but as it’s August this proved to be too much. I, however, did manage to find not only golden bobby pins but also a jacket that fit around my boobs. Wonders never cease.

The sun came out and we were able to make the last boat tour of the day. Dad was very happy to finally be on a boat.

We motored through to the end of Nyhaven, a beautiful canal/street. I was particularly interested in this street because HC Anderson of Little Mermaid fame once resided here. I don’t know exactly which house was his but they all look pretty much like this.

He wrote well over 100 fairy tales, many of which still get play today. I seem to recall there is a good podcast ep about him from Stuff You Missed in History Class where I learned that he was a bit eccentric and poverty stricken. What, a gifted writer, living in poverty? Nooo.

From the boat we got a decent though fleeting view of the Church of Our Savior, in all it’s winding glory.

The tour guide says it’s an easy 400 steps to the top.

Maybe tomorrow.

This boat tour differed from the others I’ve taken in that the bridges are VERY low to the water. Sitting in the boat was safe, but you could easily reach up and touch the bottom of the bridge as we passed under it. I ducked just on principle. Other than that, it was a good boat tour.

It being Dad’s birthday, we went out to dinner to a place with candles and real napkins. On the way, we passed this gem.

That’s right, Tycho Brahe has a planetarium just down the street from our hotel. You may recall I mentioned Brahe in my post about the Kepler Museum in Prague. Brahe is a famous Danish astronomer known for his meticulous data records and larger than life personality. I might be half in love with him.

Once we made it to the restaurant, Dad learned about water coming in a bottle, paying with a card at the table, and that no check will ever come if you don’t ask for one. We had smoked salmon and steak and panna cotta, all of which were excellent.

Tomorrow we are taking the train to Malmo, Sweden (the ferry doesn’t run between Copenhagen and Malmo anymore according to sources*) to see the Swedish sights.

I am still reading The Family Romanov and Good Behavior. Dad is reading** Coyote Blue by Christopher Moore.

*Google

**holding briefly before falling to sleep

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