Ramble
Quest - Helsinger to Halmstead.
I spent a few days in northeast Denmark, based in Helsinger. On the way up I stopped at the Karen Blixen Museum, with its pleasant grounds. For some reason, her pseudonym Isak Dinesen became more famous than her real name in the States. She certainly had an interesting life. I also stop by the small Nivagaards Malerigamling, which isn't too far off.
I visit the somewhat infamous Louisiana modern art museum. Like many people, I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, this is a truly unique, even revolutionary museum design. You wander inside and out, underground and above, through passages and weird little paths. I loved some of those outside paths and the location, on a hill overlooking the water, is breathtaking. However, it's hard to say that the place isn't over-rated when there isn't much art here and even less good art. It clearly seems like they devote more space to selling posters, books, food, etc, than in displaying any art you'd care to see. They currently had a Roy Lichtenstein exhibit, who I like, and if it wasn't for that I think I would have voted thumb's down.
Helsinger has a nice hostel but it is far from anything. I'm down to my last remaining Danish coins when I go to buy a ferry ticket across to Sweden. I'm supposed to get half off on the ticket because of the Copenhagen card (it is clearly stated in the book they give you) but the ticket person refuses to accept it. No amount of arguing can change this.
After the short ferry ride I pick a random destination -- Halmstad. I know nothing about it. I arrive in the rain and can not get a hostel room. Everything is booked, even walking way, way out of town to check places. I'm a bit discouraged and start to try to hitch-hike to Gothenburg.
There's nothing like unsuccessful hitch-hiking in the rain to instigate a good internal debate. I start to kick myself for giving up on this town. Surely I made this random choice for some reason. I get that Glacier Journal type of feeling where I sense that I'm supposed to see or learn something here.
So, for the first, and so far only time on this trip, I opt for a hotel over a hostel. It's tiny and expensive as hell but I feel I made the right choice. And not only because I got some much needed sleep when I was feeling under the weather.
The next day, I have GREAT EXPECTATIONS. I wander around this seemingly very ordinary Swedish town, looking for whatever it is I'm supposed to see. I know I'm close when I come across a huge rally of university students. Several universities have representatives here, most decked out in bizarre outfits of matching t-shirts and overalls covered with a multitude of pins and buttons. Students are chanting, singing, wearing crazy wigs, drinking, and goofing around. A gay group does a little co-ordinated dance to much applause. There are some speeches. They are getting ready for some events, with different teams competing against each other. I get a bystander to explain that this is some sort of ritual to celebrate (!?) the start of the school year.
All interesting enough, but the HEN moment comes next. Many of the student groups have constructed hand-pushed floats. One strange group of guys has a real eye-catcher. It's a black, inflatible sex doll wearing a Santa Claus hat attached to a crucifix perched atop a coffin. Four guys are carting this around like pall bearers. While marching about, the doll starts brushing up against the branches and leaves of a large tree. Instead of backing up and going around the tree, or simply lowering the coffin a bit, these guys stubbornly forge ahead, pulling the doll through the branches. It gets more and more difficult, but these guys don't quit until there's a loud CRACK and the crucifix bends backwards with the doll. A loud cheer erupts from the crowd and these guys march off into the streets with the doll, and its exaggerated and all too pointy boobs, bobbing off the back of the coffin.
I knew there was a good reason for me to stay in Halmstead!