Catch-up Brief

Due to a combination of spotty Internet access and long, exhausting days tramping around Copenhagen and its environs, I have fallen behind in my postings to keep friends and family up to date.

We spent the entirety of yesterday training and ferrying our way the enormous distance south from Copenhagen to Munich and Dachau, with the plan to spend our last day around the memorial and the city of Dachau (today), and we fly home tomorrow (Tuesday). The rains had returned to Copenhagen, so again, we left town, but it was a lovely train trek south.

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A few halfway decent pix of the German countryside from the train.

But to back up a little, let us reverse direction and center ourselves in Copenhagen, where we were delighted to be surprised by the docking of brother Page’s ship, MS-Europa, at the harbor that Bertel walked us through (near the little mermaid statue) on our second day, which he said we must re-visit when we had more time, including a tavern/café called Toldboden, near a wacky sculpture of a man pondering.

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DJ in his booth at the Toldboden

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Page was only there from about noon to 6-ish, and we were way up the coast at a lovely place called Helsinger, home of the Louisiana Museum of Contemporary Art and the castle on which Shakespeare based his setting of Elsinore Castle in Hamlet, which I’ll tell all about in a following post. So we had to race back to catch Page, communicating via email and cell phone along the way for status reports.

We just managed it, enough for Page to have finished only half his beer (more for us!) — after hugs, photo ops, and the ordering of the round of beverages — before he was called aboard the ship for departure. It was amazing that we managed to link up with him across the continents and oceans, if only for about a half-hour.

When he left his beer to the delicate protection of his family, he appeared back on the ship, above the passenger balconies, on a deck towering from the waterline (and us) and we exchanged some additional shouts, another cell phone call, and lousy photos (mine, anyway). Then the enormous departure horn was sounded and they powered away, Page waving at us, and we reciprocating until vision blurred with tears and the strain of distance. Bon voyage, Page!

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