Why go to Helsingor? Well, for one, everyone’s doing it and we all know how I am about peer pressure! But really, the more important reason, is that even the castle in Helsingor, which is actually called Kronborg, is real, but it’s much more well know for a fictional tale set there, that of Hamlet, by one W. Shakespeare.

Now here’s the fun part… getting there. It’s one of the closest places between Denmark and Sweden, only like four kilometers, and the town on the Swedish side is called Helsingborg, so don’t think that wasn’t confusing! But anyway, there’s a ferry which goes across between the two villages every twenty minutes or so and you can get a pass called “Around the Sound,” which basically lets you go from Copenhagen to Helsingor – Helsingborg to Malmo, all around for two days from the first time you use it. It’s like the Stockholm card in that respect. But you’re only supposed to travel in one direction around, so theoretically you get one ferry ride and one over the bridge transport. No problem.

Kronborg from the water

As you can probably guess, I got one of these passes. Of course, I paid no attention to the fine print and headed by train up to Helsingborg to take the ferry across. It was a short ride, nothing like the ferry to Putgarten, but then, really, what is? The nice thing was that the guy didn’t mark my ticket in anyway so I was pretty sure I could ride the ferry back, which is what I was intending to do.

Pulling into the harbor, the castle overwhelms the city. It’s huge and imposing. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to find, so I asked directions. I felt slightly silly when the guy at the train station (which was adjacent to the ferry station) said you go out the door, turn right and walk. It was hard to miss.

So I did. Pretty much as long as you could see it, you knew where you were going. I walked along the waterfront (where,

Don't drive over the wall

evidently, they don’t like cars going into the drink) until finally I got to the castle. The sky was threatening but so far, it hadn’t unleashed its fury. So I quickly went in and bought my complete ticket package, which included the royal apartments, the casements, the chapel, and the tower/marine museum. I also wanted to do a bit of wandering outside, which was free. So I paid for my tickets (which was actually just one ticket with perforations on all four corners, each to come off as you saw the corresponding sight) and went out into the courtyard (which was set up for that evening’s open air performance of Romeo and Juliet) to decide on my course of action. I figured to do the casements first. The underground areas, storerooms and guard quarters seemed like the best place to begin a castle tour.

Inside, as the self-guided tour started, there was a vending machine. I went to see what it was selling, wondering what kind of a product would make sense in an otherwise empty room. It was just one thing – flashlights. Small ones, batteries included. Naw, I thought. My eyes are fine. I can watch my step and see what there is to see. So I headed into the caves.

Four minutes later I was back, digging through my pockets for the 20 Kroner to get my very own pocket LED battery powered light. Inside the caves, there were few areas of illuminations and none of the exhibits had any type of lighting, so if you wanted to know what the pictures on the walls were of, you needed your own. Okay, there was one exhibit which had light, and that was the statue of Holger Danske, a kind of King Arthur figure (in fact, Arthur probably stems from him, as do a number of legends around the world) of the sleeping King who will arise when his country needs him – so far Denmark’s been pretty

Really nice Shadow self-portrait in the casements

lucky and he’s still asleep down here. Further on into the casements were areas of utter darkness where they had stuck random wax figures. This was scarier than any haunted house! It was absolutely creepy and, to be perfectly honest, my little 3xAAA powered push button light wasn’t doing much in the department of keeping the monsters away. I made it through, sanity intact, although I did wonder about the guards who had had to live down there before the age of electricity. I know they had torches and such but still… creepy! As I made my way back up the ramp towards ground level, I pondered which of my three remaining visits I would use next.

My choice was made for me when, as I stepped outside, the sky opened up and buckets of rain decided to fall. Exploring the grounds was going to have to wait, as was the tower (which, really, was just the roof of the highest point of the castle). So the Royal Apartments it was. The apartments were interesting in that they were a mix of historical furnishings, Shakespearean history and contemporary art – a special exhibit was going on with modern artists using the historical as their launch point for new works. It was all quite interesting , especially the

Original Tapestry...

historical perspective of where Hamlet came from. Unfortunately, I don’t remember all the details, but the basic plot derived from a Danish writer and that was the only reason for setting the play in Elsinor. There

Modern interpretation!

really was no other reason. In fact, there’s no reason to believe Shakespeare himself ever set foot in the castle. Most of what he knew about it, the historical details he put into the play, could easily have come from sailors who used to use the port as a trading area. So basically, the shipyards were the medieval Wikipedia.

After the apartments, it was still raining so I went to the chapel. Not the most impressive, I will say. It was one room and the only thing it really had going for it were ornate pew headers. Certainly not worth a separate admission. Honestly, it would have been a nice

In the chapel

gimme to visitors to let them see the chapel for free, you know, give something back (and you can tell them I said so).

The weather still hadn’t let up but I didn’t have anywhere else to go so up into the maritime museum I went. As a museum, it was okay. Some interesting tidbits but mostly it was model ships or Danish origin. The tower entrance was about halfway into the museum and, luckily, by the time I got to the top (again with the circular, narrow staircase) the rain had stopped so I was treated

From the tower...

to some spectacular views of the bay and the castle grounds. And since the rain HAD stopped, I figured when I went down, I could finally do some exploring of said grounds, which I did.

You have to admit, if you were a medieval king, you could do worse than living here. You had the ocean on one side, a nice town on the other and people paying to come through in either direction. Not a bad way to survive.

I decided it was getting late so I decided to hit the gift shop then head for home. I’m glad I went to the gift shop in the castle,

The Castle walls...

though, rather than waiting until I got into Helsingor since all the shops there specialized in alcohol and there wasn’t a Hamlet souvenir ashtray to found anywhere.

When I got back to Malmö, Malin and I went out for dinner to do a bit of translating for my project and then we riffed on magic and just chatted well into the evening (not the best idea since she had an early morning gig).

So my first day back in glorious Skåne (which is the cool, Swedish name for the southern area of Sweden where Malmo is located) was spent doing precisely… nothing. Okay, not true. I slept and graded papers. And that felt like a vacation in and of itself. It was nice not to have pressure on myself to make the most of everyday and see all the sights and such. I could sleep and work and then take a nap. I needed it, honestly.

Now here’s the problem with this kind of schedule, though: I’m not sure when I did the things I did do (does that make sense or do I sound like a Danny Kaye film?) but I’ll try and give you the high lights just the same. I think I spent two days just catching

Malin on the beach

up. Which isn’t to say I didn’t do anything, but it was more mellow and relaxed. Malin and I spent some time working on the article I’m writing about her and we also went out with her friend Marie (who is an awesome artist) to lunch and things. Then we went to the beach! Yup, here in Sweden they have beaches! Now, it wasn’t what a normal Vegas boy would consider warm, beach weather, but we had a grand time. It was in a

Marie and I in the water

small town south of Malmo, which we were going to because Marie said they had the best ice cream there. We stopped at the beach first, though. I even went into the water, (yeah for waterproof cameras!) which was really cold. Afterwards, we sat on the sand and came up with ideas for Marie to write and draw a children’s book around. She’s that good, too. She could do it and it would sell! But after lounging around, ice cream began calling our name. So we stopped in at the little place and they did indeed have a damn fine cone of ice cream. Then we did a little bit of shopping in this expensive second hand store before heading home.

Do you remember the theatre I told you about? The one Malin’s dad helped build which is about an hour and a half away from Malmo in a little village called Skillinge (which, I’ve learned, is actually pronounced Whhiilling)? Well there was another show going on there, called Boogie Woogie Burlesque and Malin knew pretty much everyone in the show.

Now, here’s the thing about going to theatre in Sweden as an American. Odds are you’re not going to be speaking the same

Malin's dad and Ulf, the leader of the Boogie Woogie band

language as everyone up on that stage. We had thought about this and figured that the show was more of a concert with a loose story-line so it should be okay. And it was. I didn’t follow the story one little bit but the music was great and the magical variety act, a guy named Mephisto Jr. (Thorston Andreassen) did his act, which was very verbal, in a mish-mosh of German and Swedish and while I didn’t understand a thing, I laughed so hard I was crying. Then there was the music, a collection of standards and new pieces, all boogie woogie and all played brilliantly. It really was a fantastic show! Afterwards, we hung out at the theatre with the guys, shooting the breeze and enjoying the theatrical camaraderie. It’s a different vibe hanging with theatre people rather than

Ola and Sophie

solo performers. It felt good. It’s been a while since I’ve done something like that. I also met Malin’s brother Ola, who is also a magician. Really fun guy. I bring him up now, because he’s going to come back later when we get to the crayfish party (which is what we in the writing biz call foreshadowing).

Oh yeah, before the show, we had lunch with Christina, Malin’s sister, and her brand new, as of a week ago, fiancé, Henrik. You remember them from the infamous first trip to Puttgarden (ahhh… the good old days, when this blog was small and manageable and only read by family members instead of half of Europe). And after lunch we still had time to kill so Malin drove me to this great old church (which was closed) and told

The church...after it was returned

reminded me of how she made it vanish last year during her big show extravaganza. Pretty amazing feat, really. And no, I’m not going to tell you how she did it.

So then, it was off to Copenhagen.

I figured I should probably get back to doing that touring thing I was supposed to be doing and since

NOT the real Little Mermaid

Copenhagen is only a half hour away by train, I may as well got on with it, right? So Malin, Marie and I headed down to the station, hopped an intercity and made our way to Denmark (okay, side note here – but a few days later, when I went over by myself, it felt SO cool to write a note saying “gone to Denmark, be home before dark.”).

We stumbled along back streets and poked our heads into bookstores. We found cool little cafes and

living statues of a guy in the wind...

expensive coffee shops. I took pictures of living statues and with dead ones. What we didn’t do, was see the Little Mermaid. At least not the real one. At this point, it’s almost a matter of pride. We did, however, go to

My Danish family is a little stiff...

Copenhagen’s other main tourist draw – Christiana.

Christiana is a 1960s era commune in the middle of a 21^st century city. It has its own laws and own government. It buys electricity and water from Copenhagen but everything else is self-sufficient. They have a street called Pusher Street where drugs (but no longer hard drugs, just pot) are sold. We went and walked through and it was interesting, but I didn’t quite get the draw. I’ve lived in Venice Beach and old hippies just don’t excite me. I’ve had WAY too many conversations with guys who are too smart but have decided the game isn’t worth playing and so they just exist and float along and that’s what this place seemed like to me. The original idea was probably very good, but it’s been commodified to the point of playing at being hippy.

The last hippie outpost...

So yeah… not so much with the Christiana (but nice picture, eh?)

The few days after that were made up of working and writing and translating a book for my degree. And then I had to do something every English Lit person must do…I went to Elsinore!

When I had gotten in the night before, there was someone new in my room. Now, when staying at a hostel, this isn’t an unusual thing. In fact, it’s part of the fun of hostelling, meeting the new people. There was a couple in the room as well, they had been there the day before as well and I had spent a few minutes chatting with them, Very nice, from Australia, having trouble reconciling that each of them wanted to do different things with their days on holiday. I mention this only because it might come up later.

Anyway, I get up the next morning and I see a guy in my room, the new guy I mentioned, except as I watch, he’s hoisting my bag on to his bed and going through it. As you can imagine, I’m slightly alarmed. But then I realize it’s not my bag. It doesn’t have my green locks on it, which are fairly distinctive. It’s also slightly smaller than my bag. But of course, in these situations, you take any opportunity to strike up a conversation so I say to this stranger “I thought you had my bag.” He laughs and says “I know, isn’t weird.” In perfect English. Ah…I think to myself. He might be an American! And I was right. His name was Emmanuel and he was indeed from San Francisco. We start chatting and hit it off great (it also turns out we have a LOT of the same gear, thank you REI). We have breakfast together and it turns out he’s got to be at the train station for a 21:00 train to Copenhagen and wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his day. I had some ideas of what I wanted to do with mine, but I went with him to the station, helped him get his bag sorted away in a locker and then we agreed to meet up for dinner later that night.

I took this opportunity to do what you MUST do when in Stockholm… I went to the Nobel Museum. Nobel, as you’ll recall,

The Nobel Museum

invented dynamite. He also invented a whole lot of other stuff and factories to produce it all. He was a true manufacturing giant. When he died, though, he thought he’d give back, so he create a trust to fund an award given to the best and the brightest in several different fields every year. And, just to piss off his countrymen, he told them the winner didn’t have to be a Swede! And so we now have the Nobel Prize and, like so many other museums in Stockholm, it’s nice and small and free with my card! They have a permanent display of the various winners (Isaac Bashevis Singer’s Typewriter is there!) and a revolving display of different things.

The guy invented TNT - do you really want food from his pantry?

When I was there it was a display of marketing centered around atoms. It was odd, trying to figure out a way to sell science to the mass market. I think they did a pretty good job. Now, the downside of these museums is that most of them don’t allow photographs so we’re gonna light on the graphics this time.

So afterwards, I was starving so I grabbed a hot dog and coke light from a street vendor and sat on a bench to rest my feet and eat before going to the next museum. Before too long, a couple sat down next to me, joking this was the diet coke bench since we were all drinking Light (which is one of the European Diet brands of Coke. The other is Coke Zero). Naturally, we struck up a conversation and guess what? Jews from back east America! Marty and his wife (I wish I could remember her name, I’m sorry). We ended up sitting there for an hour, talking Jewish heritage, talking parents and children, talking theatre (they were both directors in New York). Really one of the great, random encounters on which good travel is based.

So I walked them to the main shopping street, said goodbye and I headed to the palace. I wanted to see the inside of one of the last remaining active monarchies in Europe. Granted, this one is only a figurehead and the palace is only used for administrative functions, but still… So there were four things to see in the palace and since my card covered all of them, I was sure I was gonna see them all. At first I headed for the royal apartments, but it was recommended I wait for the guided tour so instead, I went to the

Changing of the Guard

underground parts. This was the site of the original castle, with the original walls, which had burned down in the 1600s. Once I finished up there, it was upstairs to the apartments where I did go on the guided tour. I saw where the heads of state eat and learned all about the regimented balls (the timing is very precise as to when the members of royalty enter and exit – I’d say it was Swiss precision, but that’s a whole other country). After the apartments I took a stroll through several hundred years of monarchy portraiture. Some of these people were very handsome and some…

Guard's been changed

well… some I’m sure were the product of inbreeding and could probably play either part of dueling banjoes with no sense of irony whatsoever.

Then came the rooms I wish I could have brought Riley Addison to… the crown jewels. For different functions and at different ages there were crowns made for the members of the royal family. There were also swords used for coronations and cloaks used for ceremonies, but the crowns were the big draw. They were really beautiful and covered in jewels and gemstones and gold. Just amazing.

Leaving there, I walked across the cobblestones to the Mint Museum but by that time, it was already closed so I ran around to the fourth section of the palace, the antiquary, and had a quick look see through the statues the previous kings had collected. The most impressing pieces, I thought, were a collection of muses. All nine of them. I’m fascinated by the idea of muse and so I was drawn to these pieces. If I’d had more time I would have stayed and studied them longer. I think when I get back I might do a bit of research in that area.

I had about an hour to go before I was to meet Emmanuel for dinner so I hopped a tram back to the hostel (free with card!) dropped off some stuff, then hightailed back to the opera where he was waiting for me. Turns out he didn’t do nearly anything he’d planned, but he did go shopping and found a fabulous outfit! So we wandered around, looking for a place to eat. Eventually we passed a TGI Fridays and he thought it’d be ironic if we stopped in there for a drink, so we did. One drink turned into two,

Retailers know Pride Fest is in town

which turned into nachos and we just had an amazing conversation, We talked about the Australian couple in our room (he didn’t think they were going to last long as a couple, either – very odd dynamic they had) and he asked me some rather thought provoking questions about travel and attitude. See, he was just starting a month of traveling by himself and was nervous. I helped put him at ease. Eventually, we got hungry and found a place for dinner, where the waiter

Emmanuel and I

was a riot and who actually yelled at Emmanuel for leaving a bad tip (but did it in a nice way since it was an honest mistake – we rectified the situation and gave him a decent tip).

We made our way to the train station where he got on towards Copenhagen and I grabbed a metro and headed for home. I still had a number of places to see and my card didn’t expire for 36 hours.

Pulling into Stockholm I was exhausted and excited. And an hour ahead. We gained an hour somewhere in the waterway between here and Finland. Pretty cool if you ask me. So I’d prebooked my Hostel, as I am want to do, and, armed with directions, I set about to find the place. Of course, the directions they proffer are from the central train station, not from the Ferry port, so I first need to make my way there. I do this, with a 20 kilo bag on my back. At the train station, I then find the bus which is going to take me towards the hostel. Not the easiest thing in the world, considering the size of the Stockholm train station, but find it I must so find it I do (I don’t know why I’m talking like this, except I’ve been grading papers all day and I feel the need for some pomposity). Anyway… I get to the hostel (two hours early) drop my bags and grab a map to go off and explore the day. As I look at the map to orient myself, I discover, much to my chagrin, the ferry port, where I entered this fair city 90-120 minutes earlier, is a ten minute walk from where I now stood.

That’s right… all I had to do was climb some stair and walk 50 meters and bang, hostel front door. Oh well, as has been pointed out, the European food is agreeing with me so the extra bit of exercise couldn’t hurt. Well, now I’m armed with a map and a very friendly hostel employee, Elinor, has directed me to a local movie theatre (Batman just opened here and I was dying!) so I head off.

The Gates to Old Town

The first piece of art I see in the beautiful city is a weird little man thumbing his nose at the world. How could I not love this

I don't know art but I know what I like...

place? I make my way to the Old Town, via the main shopping street where I find the first science fiction bookstore I’ve seen in Europe, and head towards the opera house. Right in front of the Opera is the launch point for a bus and boat city tour I had decided to take. I got there a little early (well, depend on how you look

My People!

at it – I missed the 10:30 departure and the 12:30 was still 90 minutes away), bought my ticket and went for a wander. I discovered that I had come to Stockholm right in the middle of Pride Festival! There were rainbow flags everywhere! Now, this wouldn’t be so bad, except it explained why my hostel was so freaking expensive! It also explained some of the weird window displays I’d been seeing.

I also had a nice look at the river and the palace, checked out where the Nobel museum was and even walked through the free part of the dance museum (odd place, it really was the ballet/ethnic dance museum). By that time, the bus was ready to be boarded (is that passive construction?) and I saw a good number of

Look at the flags

interesting sights. Mostly, though, it was a lay of the land kind of deal where I saw some of the things I wanted to go back and see again when I had more time and energy. The boat portion of the trip, while pretty, was kind of a waste of time. Not a whole lot of historical information (the lunch

View from the back of the boat

I’d gotten as part of my tour wasn’t enough to feed a super model) and we spent more time waiting for locks to open and close than we did actually seeing sights. Ah well. You live and learn, right?

On the boat, though, I did have a lovely conversation with a couple from back east in the states. Their daughter was over for some sort of martial arts competition/camp thing and they decided to come out and cheer her on. That’s me, though, huh? I can meet and talk

Right in the middle is one of the original Absolut Vodka Barrels

to anyone, anywhere. Certainly makes serendipity more frequent.

Afterwards, I went to the palace and while I was in line to buy tickets, I found out about the “Stockholm Card.” A number of European cities have these things – they’re like all access passes to the museums and public transportation. You can get them for a various number of days and in the past, it never seemed to be worth it, but for some reason, Stockholm called out to me. So I bought the three day card and then wondered what to do with myself. Now, you might think that

A palace guard

since I had this card, I would just start tearing through museums and riding willy nilly on the local busses and subways, right? Wrong. See, it’s good for 72 hours from the first use and I figured that if I didn’t use it the day I bought it, I would still be good for transport on my last day. So, card in hand, I walked to the movie theatre and watched Batman (which I will be seeing again back in Vegas) then headed to the hostel for some well deserved sleep.

Was thinking about this place for breakfast...

Bic Mac Economics

Friday in Helsinki… Both Tommy and Jennica are at work and then going to an Iron Maiden concert (it was sold out, months ago, in 17 minutes or I would have gone along – approximately 1% of the population of Finland had tickets) so I was pretty much on my own for the day. I figured I was in a world capitol, I might as well do a little exploring. First stop – The Money Museum!

This is a brand new place, just opened. It’s a small museum, but jam packed with information, too much in fact (no pun intended). There’s WAY too much reading for such a small space. It’s fascinating, sure, but after a few minutes, you just get overwhelmed. I would have bought a book to read it all on my own, but they didn’t have one. What they did, have, though, was some serious Jaq validation. That’s right, remember the Big Mac theory from way back in Munich? Well guess what? Some top notch economists had the same theory. So I’m smarter than I thought I was! (of course, when I mentioned this to Jennica and Tommy later that day, they said they had learned about in school and everyone knew the Big Mac theory so I didn’t feel as smart – it was a Flowers For Algernon moment but that’s okay, I still felt validated and you get the pictures.

Zoo sign

From there I did what I always do… I went to the zoo. I really don’t know what my fascination with zoos is, but I feel compelled to check them out. And I should learn better not to go to the zoo in the middle of the afternoon because all the animals are sleeping. I mean once you’ve seen a tiger or a lion crashed out you’ve pretty much seen them all. I’m sure to other lions and tigers there are differences, but to us mere humans, honestly, they look pretty darn similar. So here I go to another zoo. This one, though, is on an island and you have to take a ferry to get there. That’s right, another ferry! And I got the student price, so I saved 5 Euro (Student pricing is weird here. Some places just accept I’m a student, some want to see my ID and will accept or reject it randomly and some won’t accept anything other than an International Student card).

So I get to the zoo, get off the boat and get ready to see the many exotic animals Finland’s largest city has to offer. I get to the first enclosure and look in expectantly. What do I see? Bunny rabbits. They’re cute and all, but I didn’t see a sign proclaiming it feeding time and I certainly don’t know what kind of a critter they’re feeding live bunnies to but hey, maybe they do things

Bunnies at the zoo... who's hungry?

differently in Finland. Then I see it, off in the corner, the sign telling what kind of animals are supposed to be in this enclosure. I walk over, hoping I can read the Finnish or Swedish (both languages are official) to discern the name of the beast. Thankfully, there’s an English language

Rabbits on display

name written in large letters on the bottom – RABBIT.

Yeah, all the way to Finland, further north than anywhere in the contiguous United States, take a ferry to an island and the first animal I come across is the domestic bunny. It’s not even a Reindeeralope (distant cousin of the Jackalope). Nope, just the same little (not even lop-eared) bunny you can get at a regular pet store. My hopes for a decent zoo were diminishing fast.

To be fair, The rest of the zoo was okay. It wasn’t great mind you, but decent. A number of the animals were hidden from view due to the fact it was 2 in the afternoon, and hot for Finnish standards. There was a bear running around and a seal lounging in the shallows of his enclosure. The skunk exhibit had no skunk but an interactive area where the particular scent of the stripped one could be sampled. Being that it was on an island, there were some great picnic areas overlooking the surf and a “bird’s nest” observatory from which one could see over the whole area.

I took the paddlewheel ferry back to the harbor and began heading for home. Since it was still early, I knew no one would be there so I thought I’d walk a bit and explore more of the city. I was trying to find Plague Park but I failed. Instead, I wandered through the esplanade and then through a shopping street and finally found myself in front of the train station. I went in and booked my ticket for the next day to Tampere and then continued on. That was when I found myself walking through the doors of Kiasma, the Helsinki Museum of Modern Art.

It was a funky place (really, would expect less from a modern art museum?) just big enough to let you enjoy it leisurely without being overwhelming. As is the case with any museum, I enjoyed some of the pieces and didn’t understand others. But this is where Kiasma differed from other museums. It knew you weren’t going

The Post it wall

to get it all and turned that into part of the art itself. In two places, there were big bulletin boards covered with post-it notes in all sorts of colors. Pre-printed on the

Post-It Wall (detail)

notes, in several different languages across the top (one language per) were the words “I don’t quite get it…” leaving the rest for you to fill in and add to the wall. I loved it. At the end, when I was leaving, I walked past a display sign covered in little circle stickers with a “K.” These were your admission tickets and the patrons, as they were walking out the door, covered this sign with them, creating a Seurat inspired collage of a piece of Hockney drip art.

Covered in entry stickers

I made it home after I expected to (I got lost on the tram – okay, not on the tram itself, they’re not that big, but on which tram I chose to take), just in time to say goodbye to Jennica and Tommy as they were leaving for Iron Maiden (and may I say, seriously, I haven’t seen so many Iron Maiden shirts around a city since 1985 – this may be good or bad depending on your view of Iron Maiden shirts and/or Helsinki). When they were gone, it left me and Donna home alone together. Oh wait, I’ve completely forgotten to mention Donna

My girl Donna

haven’t I? Donna is Jen and Tommy’s dog, an adorable girl with eyes the size of Montana and sadder than Uncle Uris at a wedding. She and I had a great evening, hanging out and making sandwiches. Yes, I made the sandwiches, but she played me good with those eyes and ended up with more people food than she was probably supposed to have. That’s okay,

that’s what Uncle Jaqs are for, to spoil the little ones.

After the concert, Tommy and Jennica and I went for traditional Finnish late night cuisine (I had the salmon soup) and talked well into the early morning. I got a few

Tommy dropping me off at the train station

hours sleep before Tommy and Donna drove me to the train station so I could go to Tampere and met up with Antti and Tiina and the wonder that is Vaasa.

Riga started off pleasant enough. I met my upperbunkmate when I woke up, had a jam sandwich or two for breakfast and then headed off into old town to check things out. Again, I’m thinking to get a self-guided tour and show myself the sites.

Everything starts off just fine. I make it into the old town, find the tourist information center (although Riga is like San Francisco for me, I get all turned around thinking east is west and north is south) and head out, guidebook in hand, to learn about the capitol of Latvia.

I don’t get very far.

I’m on stop 8 or 9 (out of 45 or so) when I get approached by a guy dressed in slacks and a sport coat, but

My Tour Guide

not the kind you’d wear to a meeting. No, he was dressed the way you’d dress if you didn’t want someone to think you were homeless or crazy, you know, almost too careful but shabby. Like a drunk trying to walk a straight line. Even if he can do it, you can tell he’s been drinking. So anyway, this guy comes up and asks if I speak English. I cautiously nod my head and he proceeds to tell me about the buildings I’m looking at – the three brothers. Exactly what it says in my guidebook. Okay, so that’s fine, no big deal. Then he says “do you have a moment? Two moments? Come with me I show you.” Now, as you all know, I’m very fond of saying it’s all about the story. I had no idea what this guy was going to show me, but I knew that I could always come back to my guidebook if I needed to. In the

The Black Magic Bar where they serve a drink called Balsam

meantime, I might as well take a “moment” and see what he wanted to show me. These are the moments which make experiences which make stories so I put my guide in my pocket and followed.

He took me into a church and showed me the first women’s cloister in Riga. Then we kept walking. All the while, he was leading me with “one…two moments. First moment here” and he would point out something, a church or a house or the original stone foundation upon which the newer buildings were constructed. And we kept on. At one point, we ended up in a church where a wedding was taking place and we walked down the side of the building (he was Catholic and so

Synagogue under renovation

genuflected and used holy water in every sanctified place) to look at the art on the walls. Then we stopped to observe the wedding. When I looked over, my new friend was crying. There were tears running down his face as he watched the bride and groom. It was amazing. We left there and the tour continued. This was his “small excursion” he told me. He’d been in Riga for 47 years (all his life) and sometimes he did small excursions and sometimes big ones (which lasted all day). He showed me the things which moved him and the things he thought were wrong. He told me about renovations (like the synagogue) and the river. At one point, after we’d been going for an hour and a half or so, I offered to buy him a beer of he was thirsty. So we stopped

Me and Uris having a beer

and had a beer and I finally found out his name was Uris (or Yuris, I’m not sure of the spelling – he wasn’t wearing a name tag or a cowboy belt). Now remember, he had yet to ask me for any money. He did ask me what I liked and if I was enjoying myself and if I wanted to see more, but at no point did he ask for money. Which is why I bought him the beer.

Then he took me to the Tourist Information office (same one where I’d gotten my walking tour guide) and said he was going to get me information. He went through every bit of free materials and grabbed it all. Different languages, multiple copies, didn’t matter. He just handed it all to me with a grin on his face that could have lit

my haul from Tourist Information

a small medieval village. He was so excited to be helping me out. So we’re walking along, seeing more stuff, and it starts to rain. We happen to be across from the Latvian version of Starbucks and I offer to get us some coffee. He says he doesn’t drink coffee but tea and he would love some, but not from that place, from the next place. So with the rain coming down in buckets and the lightning and thunder crashing around us, we make a break for “the next place.” It turns out he leads us to a little coffee stand where we both have some Earl Gray tea and decide to wait

pigeon in the rain

out the storm. While I’m talking pictures of the rain, he purchases a couple of cookies and brings them over to me. “Traditional Latvian cookies,” he explains. “For you from me. Eat!” So I ate. And they were good, tasty. “You like?” he asked. I told him I did and I finished the six or so he had purchased. Then he bought a bag of them and gave then to me as a present, to “take home to your friends, from me.”

Have I mentioned he still hasn’t asked me for money?

the coffee shop from above

So I’m having a blast, I’m certainly getting a story’s worth of adventure out of the day, but I still don’t completely trust him. I make eye contact when we pass the police. I don’t go into anyplace dark first, I try to be on my guard the whole time, I transfer money so it’s not all in one pocket, but my fears are completely unfounded. As the rain lightens up (not finished yet, though, he starts our tour again. We end up in the park looking at statues and another bridge with locks. For the last half hour or so he keeps telling me “one more moment and then finished” but there were at least ten moments there. At one point we get accosted by a

another bridge with locks, like in Vilnius

pan handler and my new best friend Uris shoos him away telling me not to give money to that kind of person. We finally end up at the St. Peter Cathedral, which has an elevator to a second balcony observation deck. Uris helps me buy my ticket then can’t resist showing me just one more thing. All told, we were together about three and a half hours and I ended up giving him 10 Lats, making sure that was okay. He seemed pretty happy with it, we shook hands and he went on his way while I went up and looked at the mist enshrouded city.

So I took a train to Warsaw, then I had an hour or so layover until my bus to Vilnius. I must have looked incredibly helpless because when I asked for directions, the woman at the information desk actually CAME OUT of her little glass box and walked me to the stop. So I was good to go. Of course, I was hungry and set out to find food, which wasn’t an easy task at 22:30. I did find a McDonald’s but I was feeling rebellious (I was in Warsaw after all) and thought they were price gouging so I didn’t eat there. My bad. I ended up having potato chips and Coca Cola Zero for dinner. Yum!

The Bus finally arrived and I sat next to a guy named David. David was cool, from Canada by way of Prague (where he’d been working for the past month as a waiter) but his lineage was all over Europe – which meant he could speak like 146 different language (okay, maybe only three or four, but still) including Russian (This will come back later).

David has no Hostel booked for the night (he only needs one night since he’s leaving for Riga early the next morning and from there, St. Petersburg), so he decides to see of my place has an extra bed. I have directions, which involve a bus, but after waiting for a bit, we decide to walk. (This is after we get the wrong bus to drive us to where the right bus is supposed to come – thanks to David being able to speak Russian to the driver.) So we have a really poor map in my “Let’s Go” guidebook which we follow (Again, for those of you who have been following along, you know my map reading skills leave much to be desired – and this time, just to make matters worse, the Hostel is off the grid of my in book map) to finally get to the place. It’s a hike, let me tell you, but we do see a good part of town (and a pet hospital when we overshoot the Hostel itself and I insist on walking further).

Of course, when we get there, they have no extra beds for the night, but they do say they’ll hold David’s name for a cancellation just in case. They also hold his pack. So now, unburdened, we head out to explore Vilnius. We know a couple of things we want to see (we have been staring at a guide book all morning plus we’d gotten some recommendations) so we immediately head out for The Museum of Genocide. I know, fun way to start the day, huh? Again, we get lost trying to find the place, which is in the former Soviet headquarters, and end up double backing a couple of times but finally, we find it! And, lucky us, there is no

Secrets in the Museum of Genocide

entrance fee! So we go in and it mostly covers the soviet occupation and the resistance movements. There’s some rather interesting things inside but the most fascinating is the Holomodor, the systematic starvation of millions of Ukrainians by Stalin. Estimates put deaths anywhere from 9 to 30 million people over the course of a dozen years or so. It was like a man-made dust bowl. Just terrifying.

Down in the basement, though, they have the prison and torture areas left mostly how they were. The Russians were almost as good as the Germans when it came to torture. So good,

Torture room

in fact, David and I started devising Survivor: Russian Prison. Our favorite was the room which would fill with water and the small metal island on which the prisoner could stand. In the winter, the water would freeze and of course, the prisoner would have no shoes.

I'm in prison...

And just to show it wasn’t all evil, check out this sign for the exit! I swear I thought it was leading towards the Ministry of Silly Walks!

Upon leaving the Museum, we walked down the main street,

Ministry of Silly Walks

passing by the national theatre for the second time. This time, though, I had to snap a picture of the sculpture which over looked the entrance. Just amazing in its power and majesty. Further on and we made it to the remaining tower of the castle on the hill in the middle of town. Again with the stairs to get up,

National Theatre

but it was okay. The view was spectacular! So there we were, looking over the city, and checking the guidebook. We decided we wanted to find Frank Zappa’s head. What’s that you say? What is Frank Zappa’s head doing in the capitol of Lithuania? No one is really sure. All we know is that someone in Vilnius is a fan and created a 4 meter high metal pole upon which rests a bust of the leader of the Mothers of Invention. So we’re on top of the tower,

David and Me

looking out and trying to figure out where this bust might be when we get to talking with another tourist. Turns out, he speaks Lithuanian and when he hears about Zappa’s head, immediately calls his friend to ask where it is. He gives us directions, takes a double picture for us, and heads out. We follow shortly and our quest for Zappa’s head begins in earnest.

Now, if this was a Hollywood movie, there would be lots of subplots, an act 3 complication all leading up to success in the last 10 minutes, where we would find the sculpture and get there at the same as Harold and Kumar and the ghost of Neil

This way to the monument?

Patrick Harris. Thankfully, though, this isn’t a movie and the guy’s directions were pretty spot on. We found the head with no problems and then spent a good twenty minutes pondering its existence, which may in fact be why it was built there. What better tribute to

Zappa's poleZappa's Head

Zappa than to have people coming from all over the world to stare up at something and think “Why in the world is this here?” Personally, I believe it would have appealed to his sense of humor and general moral philosophy.

From there, we were both a bit tired so we thought we’d head back towards the Hostel, grab a beverage along the way, and maybe check out UZ, the independent republic in the middle of the city which broke off in the late 90s and declared itself an independent nation, complete with constitution and military (twelve guys – enough for a minion). Ahhhh… if only plans worked the way you intend them to.

Just before we crossed the bridge over the stream (which was covered in Padlocks, which are put there by couples, engraved with both their names – a cool tradition I think) we see a troupe of performance artists, about a dozen or so, singing and dancing around a man on a gurney. Before we can ask what’s going on (or get out of harm’s way) the guy on the gurney is replaced by, you guessed it, me. There are people singing, throwing chicken feathers,

performance art

taking pictures and video and one guy drawing a caricature. There’s someone rubbing my head and someone else feeding me grapes. This goes on for about ten minutes, after which I’m helped up and told that now I will have a beautiful day. I

cariqature (with a q)

thank them, take my caricature, and David and I go looking for a bar. Now it’s definitely time for a drink.

Just on the other side of the water is a great looking little bar which would be perfect for our needs. Great scenery, not too crowded and on the way home. Unfortunately, there are no seats available and the wait staff can’t be bothered to help. So we walk by a couple of times and nothing. We start to walk home. We stop and decide to try again. Still nothing so we walk past the bar and end up in an artist enclave where we get pressed into adding our own color to a painting in progress by a Lithuanian girl who was all set to move in with artists right then. But still, no drinks so we walk back past our bar. Do you think there were any seats available?

You’re right. There were none. Again we start for home. We get about 10 meters, maybe, and David says “What about asking someone if we can share their table?” can you tell we REALLY wanted to enjoy this place? There was a reason , I’m sure. So we go back and see the back of a dark haired girl, sitting by herself. We approach cautiously and I ask if she’d mind if we joined her. “Not at all,” she said. So we sat. While we were waiting for another ice age…I mean for our waitress, we started talking. The girl’s name was Tiina and then we were joined by her boyfriend Antti. They were from a city in Finland called Vassa and before you could

Antti, Me, David, Tiina

say Teemu Selanne, we were fast friends, talking and jabbering away. A few beers later and we all decided to check out the independent republic. Much laughter ensued and by this point, we were all hungry. Antti’s guide book mentioned a view spot up the street which was attached to a restaurant. So we went looking. The outside wasn’t much, but inside, the place was fantastic! We got a table near the edge and watched the sunset over Vilnius. Then we ate and drank and moved inside when it got cold. At some point, I promised to go to Vassa (I’m gonna head there on the 19^th or so, where a party is being organized to meet the American). In the

The restaurant as night fell

midst of all this, Antti handed over postcards to me and David, asking us to write them out to his friends and family. So we did. Imagine writing a postcard to the sister of someone you’ve only just met. In fact, don’t imagine it, I encourage you to do it next time you’re traveling. If you meet someone, and you’re hanging out, ask them to write a postcard for you, especially if they speak a foreign language. It’s completely random but just crazy enough that no one’s going to think you’re completely off your rocker.

We closed the place down (they actually had to ask us to leave, silently, pleading with their eyes – very different than the rude guy in Prague), said goodnight and David and finally headed back to the hostel, where we still weren’t sure if he had a bed. Turns out he did, in the bunk above mine, and we went to sleep, knowing we were both getting up early.

And by the way, my nephew is SO cool they put his initials on the grates around all the trees!

Oh yeah, forgot to mention last night I did my laundry in the sink! I borrowed some washing powder from Imbi and then soaked and scrubbed my unmentionables. This of course meant that this morning as I was running around to try and make my bus I left all my undies drying on the rod.

I did make the bus, though, so that’s good. It was about an hour to Bratislava, which is the capital of Slovakia, former country partner with the Czech Republic (the split in 1993). It’s a small place, whose skyline is dominated by a 95 meter tower called the UFO. Naturally I had to go up to the observation deck. I figured I’d do this first thing (after arranging to take a tour later in the afternoon). It was great. Quite a neat little place. There’s a restaurant and bar inside and then you can take an extra few flights up to the observation deck which is outside. It was incredibly windy and I figured I’d have a coke light and just enjoy the view for a bit. Then I found out about the free wifi. So I was able to log in and upload a blog entry, all while feeling the tower shake from the wind (and the large trucks, since it’s built over a freeway).

Me at the castle

Bratislava itself was okay. It was a nice a little city (in fact, their motto is “A Big

I just like this one

Little City” – Reno may have some copyright complaints) but I didn’t want to spend more than the day I was there. I did wander in to this weird little children’s interactive circus museum. I still have no idea what it actually was, but It was amusing. I took pictures (I know… Jaq taking pictures, how odd!)

The other thing which bears mentioning about Bratislava, though, is their dedication to public art. I don’t know if you’ve seen those weird compilations which are flying around the internet of odd statues around the globe, but a number of them are in Bratislava (although I did see one in Berlin). I’ll bet you can’t guess what I did when I saw all these really cool statues!

(did you guess right?)

Tomorrow is my last day in Vienna. I’m gonna get to that one museum I wanted to go to and then I’m taking an overnight bus to Krakow. But I’ll probably stop at McDonald’s and upload these last few entries and keep everyone up to date.

By the way, thanks for worrying. Makes a guy feel loved.

So I met my hostelmates when I woke up in the morning, having gotten in late (and they were both sleeping). There’s Francesca, from Germany, who is in town (along with 3000 of her closest friends) to take a medical school entrance exam and Imbi, who is from Australia and doing an even crazier tour round the world than I am. She started by spending 5 weeks in Africa!

So Imbi and I were chatting in the morning and decided to hang out while Francesca studied. We headed into town (she had only gotten in the day before, so she hadn’t seen much) after getting some breakfast stuffs (and generally having a lazy morning). I’ll be honest here, I wasn’t that excited about Vienna. I know, it’s supposed to be great, and it is, but I just wasn’t feeling it. It was kinda like Dresden for me. I had only booked two nights in the hostel and was anxious to move on and get to Poland and the Baltics. Seriously, I have no idea what day it is most of the time and for some reason, the Baltics have become this ideal of rest and relaxation to me. They are not nearly as touristed out as the other places I’ve been (minus Zagreb, but Zagreb is trying really really hard to be touristy) and Imbi just came from there so she was talking them up considerably. So again I say, not feeling the Vienna vibe.

Until we’re walking through the central square (Stephensplatz) and Imbi mentions that there’s a theatre nearby which still shows some film that was made here, shot in the sewers, called three men or something like that.

“The Third Man?” I ask.

“That’s it,” she says.

All of a sudden the vibe come back with a rush so fast it would have given the wind in the door at Eisriesenwelt a run for its money. We find the information office (this is after we spent an hour or so at McDonald’s, which, say what you will about them, offer free wifi in many places in Europe and allowed me to allay the fears of those who thought I was dead, kidnapped or trapped in a Turkish prison) and grab a map… Yes, there it is! I drag Imbi through the streets towards a U-bahn station. “Come on,” I say. “We have to find the Ferris Wheel!”

That’s right, the Ferris Wheel, the one where Harry Lime makes that great speech about the little dots all moving below them and what would it matter if one of them stopped, that Ferris Wheel is still there and still going! And we found it (granted, it wasn’t that hard – it is part of the symbol of the city)! We were all set to go on the fifteen minute ride, and look at the dots and

The infamous Ferris Wheel

everything… until we found out that they’re charging 8 euro for the pleasure. That’s a little steep. I found out later, though, that people will hire a car for an entire evening and have candle-lit dinners inside. Now that might be fun. But just going up…naw. I got to see it and that was cool enough. So we left there (the wheel is actually part of a whole amusement park) and headed to the bus station (Imbi had convinced me to go to Bratislava, in Slovakia, for the day) so I could get my ticket and she could get hers to Budapest. Afterwards, we split up. She went to hang out with some friends and I went back to the center of town.

I decided to take a general city overview tour, at least to discover what it was I was looking at. I bought my ticket from some young girl who was walking towards the bus when I was. Turns out it was her first day on the job and I was her first sale. Go me! Anyway, the tour was nice. Saw some amazing architecture, the headquarters of Opec and the Danube, which is not blue, contrary to popular song. All along the tour bus route, though, I kept seeing signs for an art exhibit which looked interesting. Since the tour ended right by the information center I figured I’d check and see what it was all about. Turns out it closes at 6 (1800) and it was just before 5 (1700) so there was no way I could make it in time. But then the very nice lady at the desk said the museum of fine art didn’t close until 9pm (2100) that night and it was only a five minute walk. Besides, she pointed out, it was the most important museum in Vienna. Well, with an endorsement like that, how could I refuse.

I went in, got the audio guide and saw art. Here’s some of it:

This is a painting of a statue. I don’t remember who the saint is, but her attribute (Riley and Bailey, I want you to find out what an attribute is and get back to me) is a demon blowing out a candle. As soon as I have internet access again I’m gonna look her up!

Detail

I just thought this was a really cool Griffin.

Can I get a head count, please?

This looks more damaged than it really is. The heads were never attached. They actually discovered this in an Egyptian Nile-side resort and believe the general idea was for visiting couples to stand behind the statues, thereby putting their heads on the god’s bodies.

The original Maltese Falcon…although this one was called the Giza Falcon. Ironically, it was still being looked for by Joel Cairo

Afterwards, they have this cool little service where you can pick a number of your favorite pieces and they will make a small guidebook, personalized for you, of the art and the description in your language. It was cheaper than postcards and really darn cool! Naturally I got one.

Then it was home since I had to be up early. My bus for Bratislava left at 8:30am.

Today was a slow day, a take it easy day. Yesterday was a bit stressful, for personal reasons and so I needed a nice calm day to recharge the batteries, as it were. So, instead of going on an excursion or a walking tour of something where I would surrounded by bunches of people, I decided to visit the Deutsche Museum. The Deutsche Museum is Munich’s answer to the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. It’s massive, has lots of displays and exhibits and all sorts of technological stuff and even has a mine tunnel system (not nearly as cool as the one in Chicago, but longer).

When I first got there, I went in and realized 80% of the signs were solely in German, so I went back out and got the English guidebook. I needn’t have done this, since they had vending machines every so often which would dispense guide books like they were Kit Kat candy bars.

There’s not really much to say about the place, though. It’s a science museum. They have some hands on stuff, which was cool, and lots of vehicles (planes and ships and a sub) with cutaway sections so you can see the inner workings (the model ships they had, while cool, didn’t compare to those at the Smithsonian, simply because there was no “Mayflower” against which to judge the size).

Everything was laid out, over three+ floors, according to topic. There was mining and construction toys and Marine technology, etc. My favorite was probably the paper-making and printing sections which were quite neat!

All told, I spent about five hours there, wandering the rooms, playing with what there was to be played with and generally having an okay day. On the walk home, though, I saw something which made me laugh, so I took a picture of it.

And finally for today, here’s a picture of my new fiend Kamilla and I. She works here at the hostel and we’ve been chatting the last couple of nights, so I figured I should put her picture in here as well.

Tomorrow’s installment of (as Riley calls it) Captainjaq’s Mysterious Adventures – a fairy tale castle.