It was early Tuesday evening when we arrived, exhausted but exhilarated as always. The flat is beautiful, the weather mild and we bought groceries and ate pizza and fell asleep.
When dawn broke, I stretched and yawned and silently cursed the screeching birds and prepared to get up. I grabbed a device to check the time and it was 3:30. Yes, morning comes freaking early this far north and the bedroom window mini blinds do little to block the light.
Here is what I know so far ---
1. Not everyone here is a blue-eyed blond, but the percentage is very high. Much to my liking, the hair I have always hated, my stick-straight, baby fine hair is the norm! I envy none.
2. Not everyone speaks English. We simply haven't come across anyone who doesn't.
3. Like the rest of Europe, excellent mass transit but with a twist - it's the honor system. What! Can you imagine that in NYC? The Danes are a rule following people. There can be no cars in sight and they will still wait for the walk signal.
Time now for photos. It was a gray day and chilly, too.
This is the famous Church of Our Savior, with the exterior spiral staircase which Mark climbed. I waved to him. It's 400 steps, the last 150 outdoors and Mark said it was scary up top.
We went to the Royal Palace where today, the parliament meets, and learned that this huge and not especially attractive building is actually the third in this location, as two previous ones burnt to the ground, one after only 54 years.
In the evening, we took a boat (part of their metro system) up to the Danish Design Museum.
And like children, we find it funny that the word fart, meaning motion, shows up again and again.