It dawned on me yesterday that it’s not long before our trip to Copenhagen. Writing a list as we speak, although the first thing I’ve scribbled down is ‘Write a list’. Have money to sort out (it’s a while since we’ve ordered any currency other than euros), miniature bottles of toiletries to hunt out and I must try and decide where we plan to go during our short trip. Thankfully Emma who writes at A Scandinavian Sojourn has been a godsend. Emma is an English mum living in Copenhagen at the moment and she has already emailed me with loads of useful information about places to go. I keep reading her blog to try and immerse myself in the Danish way of life. Her latest post regarding the traditional Danish chimney sweep who arrived at her door, complete with top hat, won’t help me organise my city break but it certainly raised a smile. Go and have a look at him!
I’ve been to Denmark twice before. The first time, in 1977, my parents took my brother and me on a short trip to Copenhagen; it was a group holiday via the local newspaper. The Newcastle Evening Chronicle and The Journal often organised trips and Mum was very adept in getting in quick as the holidays were always pretty good value and a fantastic way for us to try out new places.
I was 12 when we flew to Copenhagen and my memories of the trip are patchy. I remember it was early Spring but it was bitterly cold. I suspect I whinged a lot as we trudged round. But I do recall my brother and I becoming friendly with some other kids on the trip. My brother was 15 at the time and one of the other boys in the group, also 15 or 16, had managed to buy a pack of rude playing cards from a local shop. The lads were quite amazed at the pornographic material available in the little newsagent and I was equally amazed at the photos on each of the cards. We kids played cards in the hotel lobby at night. It was quite hard to concentrate on Go Fish when there was a woman accommodating a donkey on the three of clubs.
While I was gaining an education, the adults organised their own entertainment in the dining room. One of the group could play the piano so my mum got up to sing, closely followed by one chap whose party piece was to hit his head and thigh with a metal tray as an accompaniment to him singing Mule Train. There was also a gynaecologist in the group who did a bit of stand-up (comedy, in case you’re wondering). It was a fun night.
|The highlight of our holiday?|
My second trip to Denmark occurred in 1982 after I’d finished my A levels. My friend Colette and I decided to book a short trip to Esbjerg, taking the ferry from Newcastle. In hindsight it wasn’t the best choice for a wild weekend away without our parents. We had a tiny cabin in the bowels of the ship, Colette was sea-sick for most of the journey and when we got to Esbjerg we had about four hours to wander about before getting back on the ferry to come home. Club 18-30 it wasn’t.