Helsingør og min weekenden!

Two notes: 

1) I fixed the commenting function, so you should be able to leave me comments whether you have an account set up or not. Please do!

2) I tried to post pictures last night, but the wireless in Skindergade has been irritatingly problematic and uncooperative this week. Sorry; I'm working on it.

After a mostly-uneventful week, this weekend was wonderfully interesting without being too busy (i.e., I've caught up on some much-needed sleep). Saturday, seven of us managed to coordinate a trip via train out to Elsinore (in Danish, Helsingør), one of two Danish cities (the other being Copenhagen) to have a separate English name. This is thanks to William Shakespeare (or whoever you think wrote Hamlet), who set the play at Kronberg Slot, the castle just on the edge of town by the water.

We had a great group of people-- me, roommates Dara and Jackie, Ilana from upstairs, my friend Jen, Hannah from Dara's psychology class, and Eugene from my Migrants class (who also happens to attend UVa with a quarter of my high school and blogs for Campus Progress-- small world). It's not a very big town, so upon arrival we went in search of food-- meaty smørrebrød for those who wanted, veggie sandwiches for those of us who didn't. Someone thought it was supposed to rain, but, aside from the wind that we all could have done without, the day was absolutely gorgeous. We also saw three of the biggest dogs that, I think, have ever walked the Earth. Do the Danish genes carry over to canines? The coastline, like in Roskilde, is rocky and gorgeous-- we snapped several pictures of waves breaking on the shore and of Helsingborg, Sweden, which is only a very short boat ride away.

Kronberg Slot itself was very cool. We took a guided tour of the casements, which included dungeons, storerooms, stables, defense set-ups, and such. Think stony, extremely dark, extremely cold, and extremely eerie spaces-- particularly the prison cell that narrowed to a point in the back of the room, forcing at least one unlucky prisoner in a crowded cell to stay standing.  There was also a statue of Holger the Dane, who is supposed to awaken if the country is in trouble, with lighting that slowly dimmed.

The royal apartments were elegant and classy, but simpler than you'd expect. Like Roskilde Cathedral, the castle lacked a lot of the embellishments and expenses of the Danes' western neighbors. That's not to say the place lacked splendor: there were rooms of tapestries and large paintings detailing much of Danish history, including a table canopy, a prop that we'd never heard of. Apparently it's a canopy that hangs over a table and behind the diners on one side of it; in this case, that would be the king and queen who commissioned it.  The chapel was a bit more intricate, with great tiled floors, brightly painted woodcarvings, and a big organ.  

At this point, though, Kronberg was closing (at three in the afternoon!), so there was little else to do but sample the local pastry shop and catch the train home. For the record, in Danish, danishes are called wienerbrød--literally, "Vienna bread"--even though I'm told the Austrians call them danishes.

Back in København, a group from the building hit up a nearby dance club called Celcius for the night. It was my first time at a club, and it was excellent (minus the apparent lack of ventilation)! Well worth the cover charge, and quite a cultural experience, even if none of us managed to talk to any Danes (aside from a couple of guys who asked if I knew of the NFL, and then walked off when I said I didn't know much). They played lots of American pop music-- the kind that it's fun to half-belt along to while you're grooving, even if it's a bit outdated-- and some seriously strange techno was involved, too.

Today brought a late morning (thank goodness), and a short visit with Jackie and Dara to the Dansk Jødisk Museum at the Royal Library. Their collection of Danish Judaica and related artifacts were great, with plenty of depth and variety despite the surprisingly small building. The architecture of the place was interesting but a little disorienting; everything (including some of the floor) was at a slant. Dara said she'd heard the architect used no right angles, which I believe. The snapshot stories of Danish Jews' assimilation (never quite complete but much more smooth than those of other European countries) made me particularly interested in visiting some of the nearby synagogues and especially the Danish Resistance Museum, which gets into how Denmark saved most of its Jews from the Holocaust by smuggling them to Sweden in 1943. It's only open until 3 pm, but I'm hoping to get there in the next week or two.

Vi ses i morgen!