Roskilde to Dragør

Copenhagen, Denmark

Taking the subway at Orientkaj nearly feels routine by now, except this morning, we experienced a slight snafu that left a look of shock on Caroline’s face. In Germany, when somebody wants to hold the door for someone else to jump on the train or bus, the door won’t shut if it senses pressure against it closing. Denmark doesn’t play that, and Caroline, who was already on the train, had to pull her hand out of harm’s way before I was able to catch up to her. In a second, she was starting to accelerate to the next station, but not before shooting me a look of astonishment on the verge of horror. I wasn’t worried because I knew that in five minutes, I’d be catching up to her at the next stop, where I was certain she’d be waiting. Sure enough, we reconnected and were soon at Osterport to catch our 45-minute ride out to Roskilde, Denmark.

Roskilde, Denmark

We stormed the coast, plundered, and were generally rude in the mayhem we spread upon our arrival because what else should one do when landing in a historic city that played an important role for the Vikings? The lives lost today due to our raid of the village were simply the cost of us adopting our new roles. Had Copenhagen not been suffering from overpopulation and a dearth of farmland, Caroline and I might have been able to make it there, but instead, we felt we had no other choice than to flee to the countryside and burn the abbey to demonstrate to the locals we meant business.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

We should have, at this point, stopped in the cathedral to beg forgiveness (for such fabulous lies), but the doors were locked, so we decided to just hang around nearby, get some boating in, find a decent place for smørrebrød, and then return here to commune with the ancestors, even if they are not our own.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Early tech pioneer and trendsetter King Harald Bluetooth, son of Gorm the Old, founded Roskilde back in the 980s, and I don’t mean as found on some AM radio frequencies either. Seriously, the founding of Roskilde is attributed to Harald Bluetooth, the namesake of the wireless protocol. Construction of the Roskilde Cathedral was initiated by Absalon in the 12th century on top of the church that previously stood there. This is the same Absalon who moved on to build a castle where Christiansborg Palace stands today and who is considered by some the founder of Copenhagen. Unironically, I must admit feeling a sense of tragedy that we failed to utilize a Bluetooth device while in town.

Roskilde, Denmark

The human-based navigation system I’m traveling with is the Caroline Model 55, and it’s telling us that this is the right way to our destination at the harbor, but first, we must navigate this sea of flowers.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

While planning our Scandinavian adventure, one wish of my wife’s was that we would stop in Oslo, Norway, to visit the Viking Ship Museum, where the best preserved Viking boat is kept. The Oseberg Ship was found in a burial mound, and based on the photos, it’s an amazing find. But we’ll not be visiting it on this trip because the museum is under renovation and will remain closed until 2026. Nothing would make up for that, so instead, I looked for something fun that still had to do with Vikings, and that’s when I found the Viking Ship Museum of Roskilde.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

The museum wasn’t open yet when we arrived, but adjacent to its small restaurant, we ran into half a dozen workers, marine conservators to be precise, who were working on cleaning and protecting pieces of ancient ships that had been brought up from the sea and were being prepared to be shipped off to other museums. On the open grounds are a number of workshop areas, such as this one focused on rope making, while others deal with woodworking and other aspects of shipbuilding.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

This is why we are here; we are going out on the high seas for some sailing aboard a replica Viking ship. Now, you might better understand my earlier description of plundering and mayhem upon reaching this coastal town.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

With time to spare and our tour including entry into the museum, we headed over to get an early look at what’s featured inside. On the left side of this photo, you can see the type of boat we’d be boarding in due time.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

Wow, even if they are fragments, I’m thoroughly impressed with what we are seeing of original Viking ships. Back in 1962, five ships were salvaged from the mud about 12 miles north of Roskilde; they are now known as the Skuldelev ships based on the area where they were discovered. The ships were scuttled in order to create a hazard for others who might have been considering attacking Roskilde. This particular ship, known as Skuldelev 2, was a 30-meter-long warship built in the Dublin, Ireland, area around the year 1042. Over the course of four years, shipbuilders here in Roskilde built a replica of this ship, naming it the Sea Stallion from Glendalough (in Danish: Havhingsten). They painted it black, red, and orange, and you can see it in the photo following the rope shop above.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

Approximately 39 generations ago, some of our ancestors helped in varying capacities to build these ships. Lucky us for being able to see these five old Viking ships today as this museum, too, will close at some point in the future because the ships need to move to a new facility (yet to be built) that doesn’t expose the old timbers to the sunlight which damages them.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

These may be the faces of pillocks, but they are certainly not angry Vikings. It was just a dozen years ago that nobody would have confused us for anything other than serious marauders as we were getting our Viking on like it was nobody’s business; just check this post here to verify the ferocity.

Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

That is not us out on the fjord but some other Vikings (tourists) because getting photos while on the boat rowing or dealing with the raising and lowering of the sail in tight confines doesn’t make for very good images. The one-hour adventure included safety instructions, getting onboard, learning how to row as a group, and finally getting out on the water and back to port. Before you know it, the $89-a-person journey is already over, leaving us wishing for a longer three-hour trip onto the fjord.

Caroline Wise at the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark

It’s only our 3rd day in Denmark, and there are so many reasons to come back.

Smørrebrød at Pipers Hus in Roskilde, Denmark

Reason Number 1: more smørrebrød. These fine specimens of open-faced yummy treats were taken at Pipers Hus up the hill between the port and the cathedral. You couldn’t ask for a better setting on a beautiful day which was exactly the day we were having in Roskilde.

Note: upon getting home and being determined to add smørrebrød to our diet, we are finding it nearly impossible to find bay shrimp in the stores. Not even Whole Foods is offering them, though we are having no problem finding raw horseradish root.

Wasp on Caroline's finger in Roskilde, Denmark

While I and others frantically gesticulate, even jumping from our seats to avoid the wasps, Caroline tries calming me by demonstrating that these flying insects are not bloodthirsty ferocious incarnations of Vikings. I think she’s only mastered this level of calm due to her practice of dealing with my antics for over 30 years. She should be thanking me for this ability to manifest zen in the face of such a deadly threat.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

This is the King’s entry to Roskilde Cathedral that we’ll not be entering through. Not that we ever skip out on visiting cathedrals, churches, chapels, temples, mosques, or synagogues if they are available, but this particular cathedral has been getting the endorsement of everyone who has heard about our plans to come to Roskilde. We’ve been to a good number of incredible places that are dedicated to worship, so we are curious why this one has elicited such enthusiasm.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Upon walking in, nothing really stands out that screams, you’ve arrived at the place.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Near the entry, a custodian has opened an otherwise locked gate and is inside the crypt cleaning coffins. I interrupted him, thinking this might be my best chance to catch an unobstructed view of some ornate coffins; after a second of thought, he welcomed me in. Little did I understand what was still to be found here.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

A few chapels down, King Christian IX and Queen Louise are buried in this tomb, and what we’re about to discover is that nearly every other king and queen from about the last 1000 years are buried here at the cathedral, too. Something else that is interesting about this particular burial site is that the grieving maiden looks very much like the mermaid statue in Copenhagen, and that is no coincidence. They were both created by Edvard Eriksen using his wife and an actress as models for the body and head of each statue.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

From the 11th century until 1443, Roskilde was the capital of Denmark. Maybe it was this distinction that elevated the city to be the place where royalty would be laid to rest. To date, there are between 37 and 40 tombs of Danish monarchs taking up permanent residence inside this old building, with parts that date back nearly 900 years, while the main cathedral was finished only about 460 years ago.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

This is Denmark’s largest organ, with more than 6000 pipes and 100 stops. Forgive me, but I didn’t know what was meant by stops, and I likely am not alone, so here’s a simple explanation: stops are sets of organ pipes that the organist activates to control timbre and pitch range, enabling the performance of intricate polyphonic music unique to the organ. Known as the Raphaëlis Organ, the original organ from the Middle Ages was rebuilt in 1554 by Herman Raphaëlis, hence the name, and then in 1654, it was renovated, taking into Baroque elements that were popular at the time. The last restoration occurred between 1988 and 1991.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

There are so many details that become increasingly difficult to see here in the cathedral as we look over into the side chapels where the many monarchs of Denmark are entombed. The Renaissance era altarpiece standing tall before the congregation was made in Antwerp around the year 1560 while the altar turns out to be relatively new from the 1850s, with two previous versions being lost to time, possibly. The choir stalls on the left and right of the chancel were carved of oak and still feature intricate details, even though they are now over 500 years old, having been crafted between 1490 and 1500.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Queen Margrethe I is probably best known for bringing together the kingdoms of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway in the Kalmar Union. As her husband, King Haakon VI, died early in his reign at only 40 years old (she was 33), the queen took on the role of regent as her son Olaf was too young to rule. He, too, died young, leaving Margrethe to continue ruling until 1412, when she died at the age of 59. She was also known as the queen who pushed back on the powerful Hanseatic League.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

We are in Christian IV’s Chapel, which houses the sarcophagi and coffins of no less than five dignitaries, including King Christian IV himself, who rests in the casket on the right in the background. Christian IV was the king behind the building of Rosenborg Castle that we visited yesterday.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

The sarcophagus of Queen Sophia Amalia, wife of King Frederick III, who’s entombed on her left, is also in the Christian IV Chapel.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

King Frederick IV and his wife, Queen Louise, are interred in these extravagant marble sarcophagi; there’s one directly behind the one in the foreground that appears as a mirror image.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Queen Charlotte Amalie, wife of Christian V. Charlotte, came to Denmark from Kassel, Germany, north of Frankfurt, adding the Danish language to her repertoire of French, German, Italian, and likely a smattering of Latin. It was while reading about her life that I learned about “court dwarfs.” These people of short stature were traded and owned by members of the court and used as gifts to kings and queens. As a kind of sidekick, the dwarf next to a king gave the impression of the king being a giant while the dwarf also offered the appearance of being a “Kobold,” a magic and mythological goblin or hobgoblin. Charlotte’s dwarf went by the name Frøken Elsebe (Miss Elsebe), a quite magical name if you ask me.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Christian V – the first absolute monarch of Denmark. There are so many interesting details on the sarcophagi and coffins that one could gather 100s of images of details while also photographing the entire tomb before also capturing it in its setting; each angle is as interesting as the first. It was Christian V who ordered the clearing of Catholic artifacts from the chancel, creating space for his and his wife’s internment.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

The Absalon Arch is the bridge between the cathedral and the Roskilde Palace. A very small corner of the arch can be seen in the third photo down on this post. The original crumbling Gothic arch that was here since the time of Absalon was torn down and rebuilt as an exact replica of the 12th-century arch.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

In the foreground is King Frederick IV on the left and to the right Queen Louise. The farthest sarcophagus, centered just behind the altarpiece, is the resting place of Queen Margrethe I, while her brother Christopher, Duke of Lolland, is in the small tomb at the center. It turns out that his sarcophagus is empty, and the young man is likely buried under the church as his original tomb was destroyed during the Reformation.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Private box of Christian IV that is no longer in use as current monarchs sit in the chancel.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

More than 1,000 nobles and citizens are buried under the floor of the church.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

Frederick V, the drunken king, somehow still earned an impressive sarcophagus. His father, Christian VI, had considered declaring the man incapable of becoming a king, but in the end, his broken son was allowed to assume the role, though his advisors likely played a greater role.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

King Christian III (August 12, 1503 – January 1, 1559) was the first Protestant king. As a prince, he met with monk Martin Luther, and in 1536, he implemented the Reformation, turning his country Lutheran.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

The Chapel of the Magi, also known as the Three Kings Chapel, where Christian III and Frederick II are interred, was likely built between the 1360s and 1370s and was commissioned by Christian I.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

In the background to the right is King Frederick II (1 July 1534 – 4 April 1588), who was the son of Christian III. The center column is referred to as the King’s Column where more than a few Danish royals have had their heights etched into the column, including Peter the Great. While in the chapel, we failed to see any of the markings, probably because we were overwhelmed with the room and the ornate tombs.

Roskilde Cathedral in Roskilde, Denmark

With that, we concluded our three-day immersion in the history of Denmark and turned our attention to some simple sightseeing that required the exercise of no brain cells, only the exercise of leg muscles, but more on that after our return to Copenhagen.

Caroline Wise in Roskilde, Denmark

In our ongoing series of photos in poor taste where Caroline has ridden the Wild Wiener and Kissed the Cock, I present you Caroline at the Skänk bar.

Roskilde, Denmark

For a city that was once the capital of Denmark, Roskilde is understated and seems to have a rather small population. It turns out that they’ve suffered a number of fires that caused serious damage including one in 1968 that burned over 100 buildings, many of them historical. On our way back to the train station, we stopped along the shopping street for coffee, an ice cream neither of us enjoyed, and a bottle of rhubarb soda.

Main Station in Copenhagen, Denmark

And lickety-split, we were back in Copenhagen for the next leg of our vacation of intense exploration.

Caroline Wise in Copenhagen, Denmark

First up, we’ll need a couple of bikes courtesy of Donkey Republic. We are heading south out of town on those incredible bike paths we first enjoyed just a couple of days before.

Tårnby Church in Tårnby, Denmark

Through Tårnby, past their 12th-century church, we were pedaling to Dragør, Denmark, on a 30km (18.5 miles) roundtrip in order to gain another perspective of the country, and what a beautiful day to be able to do this.

Caroline Wise on the way to Dragør, Denmark

We just passed the Copenhagen airport, and we have yet to see a hint of hill or mountain anywhere on the horizon.

Caroline Wise on the way to Dragør, Denmark

We did find some friendly horses and some apples that weren’t fully ripe yet, although that didn’t stop us from taking a couple of bites as one never knows how often one will get to snack on Danish apples on a late afternoon bike ride under blue skies. Further down the trail, we passed the Store Magleby Church from the 12th century, not knowing that there were traces of an Iron Age settlement from 200 AD nearby. Not that we might have been able to see anything, but this is part of the trouble of going off the beaten path and not having knowledge of everything beforehand.

Dragør, Denmark

Obviously, we’ve reached the harbor in Dragør.

Dragør, Denmark

Back in the middle of the 15th century, there was an annual herring market here in town, which brought in up to 30,000 traders and fishermen, but by about 1500, it disappeared. One can only wonder if overfishing contributed to the decline or if there were political reasons that intruded into the trade.

Dragør, Denmark

Even as the sun starts to dip low in the sky, we are not finished with our exploration of the harbor area, which will be about four hours too little for our liking. Add yet another reason to return to Denmark.

Dragør, Denmark

The opposite side of the harbor is as enchanting as the other.

Caroline Wise in Dragør, Denmark

Caroline’s enthusiasm for things, places, stuff, and even me is such an endearing large part of who she is, but here at the water’s edge, it is the Øresund Bridge in the background that holds her imagination right now, that and the shells she was looking at.

Copenhagen, Denmark

It’s getting late as we approach town to the spectacular glow of sunset.

Copenhagen, Denmark

Riding over the Dyssebroen wooden pedestrian and cycling bridge, we had to stop for this look at the Amager Bakke (hill), also known as Amager Slope or Copenhill. According to Wikipedia, the artificial hill stands 85 m (279 ft) tall with a sloped roof that doubles as a year-round artificial ski slope, hiking slope, and climbing wall. The climbing wall is the world’s tallest climbing wall at 80 meters.

At this point on our ride, we are passing through the notorious Freetown Christiania, which at one time was not recommended to visit without a local as your escort.

Copenhagen, Denmark

We are riding over the Inderhavnsbroen pedestrian and bicycle bridge near Nyhavn and are growing sad that our time in Copenhagen is quickly approaching its end. True, another adventure in a country neither of us has ever visited begins tomorrow, but our time in Denmark has been nothing less than perfect, as easily evidenced by these photos.

Copenhagen, Denmark

Seeing we were already in Nyhavn and a bit reluctant, having dinner in the single most touristy spot in the city felt like a mistake, and we expected that we’d likely overpay for a meal that would leave us flat. Restaurant Galionen at Nyhavn 23 was the place we chose because they had tartars on the menu. The complimentary fries with chile mayo helped improve our reluctance, and the rhubarb trifle went far in making our last dinner in Copenhagen a worthy one.

Caroline Wise in Copenhagen, Denmark

The look of satisfied tired as we board the M4 to Orientkaj one more time. Tomorrow, we land in Sweden.

Copenhagen – Day 2

A harbor at Nordhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark

Word of the hour: Tolerance.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans” does not hold true for my fellow Americans when they are out and about. They are tone-deaf to those around them. American and Chinese people must be some of the most brand-conscious label shills, whereas most of the other nations represented here aim for a more understated conservative appearance. The Europeans smoke more, so they don’t get a free pass, but the “just left the gym” look needs to be left Stateside. There sure are outliers here in Europe, but the vast majority do not look to emphasize the slovenly, downright stupid look that so many Americans display. Combined with their booming voices, they demonstrate they’ve just arrived from the United States of Vulgar. This monicker holds fast in the same way yoga pants grip the pubis, which should be reconsidered as proper attire worn in shared public spaces such as here at breakfast in our hotel on a Sunday morning.

I’m not asking for or stating that I need tolerance, as I am old and beyond hope. I’m asking that others should exercise forbearance for the grumpy old man who (at least quietly) writes about his indignation. I’d like to claim that I’m not begging for conformity, just civility, but I admit that this is a fine line. Maybe people are acting as if they are in Rome after all, except in this age, Circus Maximus is celebrated every day.

Tram tunnel in Copenhagen, Denmark

Leaving our hotel at the beautiful Nordhavn harbor on the Øresund strait, we boarded the driverless metro at Orientkaj to head into town. While we’ve ridden some line-specific tram routes at airports, I don’t believe we’ve ever ridden an automated subway route.

Man sleeping in shop window Copenhagen, Denmark

No hashtag, no QR code, and no info at all as to why this man is sleeping in a storefront window. It seems obvious to me that it’s some kind of art project, but I could be wrong, and it could be a study in psychology or philosophy. Upon returning home, I searched for hints about why this person had turned this shop window into his bedroom, but nothing was to be found.

Taarnet (Green Towers) coffee shop at Kongens Nytorv in Copenhagen, Denmark

These structures are known as the Green Towers, and there are two of them in Copenhagen. At one time, they were payphone booths with a dedicated operator, back when the Danes were adopting phone service. Today, they are offering refreshments. Coffee or beer, plus a variety of other food and drinks, are available with plenty of outdoor seating on the plaza, which has me wondering how popular these locations are during the short cold days of winter.

Kongens Nytorv in Copenhagen, Denmark

Here at Kongens Nytorv, the largest square in Copenhagen, we once again see Christian V (1646 – 1699), who might have been the most popular leader of the kingdom. Maybe it was his common-man appeal since King Christian V wasn’t considered an educated man and only spoke Danish and German in an age when French was the lingua franca of politics. This limited his opportunity to speak directly with other dignitaries of his stature.

Nyhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark

Walking in the footsteps of the tens of millions of visitors who’ve preceded our stay in Copenhagen means we’ll not see anything today that countless others haven’t already. This realization applies to nearly everywhere we’ve been and also will be true for future generations: the only thing possible to change is an individual’s interpretation of their experience in a locale. Then again, what does it matter how anyone else sees anything? As I’ve stated before, this blog is not meant to enlighten others, aside from maybe inspiring someone to see what can be done in a day when one is willing to go hard. Instead, this post and all the others are about reminding Caroline and me where we’ve been, where our feet have hit the cobblestone.

Nyhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark

While I blog out here on the internet relatively anonymously, my mark will likely not be remembered for long into the future, unlike Emil Zeuthen Svitzer, who founded a salvage company back in 1833 that became a global entity plying the seas and is commemorated by this gnarly bust of a diver. But that’s okay; I’m only looking to be memorable to my wife and me, and maybe my daughter.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Nyhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark

Everybody has to visit Nyhavn when in this city. Here’s my proof that I photoshopped us into the scene.

Nyhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark

If only I were a professional regarding photography! I would have used the correct lens to not only capture this colorful image of Nyhavn, but I would have been able to properly catch the entire reflection, more of the blue sky, and a wider perspective of it all. Sadly, I opt for expediency and convenience, in part because we are trying to best utilize our time to see and experience as much as possible. Knowing the foibles of memory, we do need the images and musings I am capable of capturing, so something about these days remains in our heads after they have been stuffed full of new impressions.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Welcome to Rosenborg Castle, the former home to six kings, but only for about 150 years. Afterward, the castle would become the repository for the crown jewels and continues in this function to this day.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Caroline Amalie of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Augustenburg (1796 – 1881) was Queen of Denmark and wife of King Christian VIII (1786 – 1848) from 1839 until his death in 1848, but why she’s here is beyond me because she and her husband lived in Christiansborg Palace. Maybe this was a surplus statue?

Botanical Garden in Copenhagen, Denmark

Our idea of visiting Rosenborg didn’t go off as planned, as entries were sold out for about an hour. With tickets for the next available time slot in hand, we walked across the street to find out what we could see in the Botanical Garden. First up was this pond. We had wanted to head into a section behind it that features a statue of famous astronomer Tycho Brahe, but wouldn’t you know that the area is closed for renovations?

Botanical Garden in Copenhagen, Denmark

“Behold my micro penis, but if that fails to impress, I have this awesome tail!” –  “Meh, I’m at a loss of what to do with your tail, and that tiny thing you call penis that’s lost in your pubic hair does not deserve to be called a penis, and that is that. As a matter of fact, you might want to travel south to the Netherlands, where Zacharias Janssen recently invented the microscope, to see if he can find your diminutive manhood!”

Botanical Garden in Copenhagen, Denmark

Without a lot of time at the Botanical Garden, we weren’t going to have the opportunity to visit the old palm house built between 1872 and 1874, but we’ll include it on a subsequent visit to Copenhagen should we be so fortunate. Instead, we took a moment to appreciate the grounds and some of the unfamiliar plants before returning to Rosenborg Castle.

Word of the Midday: Patience.

It’s possible that those standing around obliviously or who have formed a wall of people by walking shoulder-to-shoulder are only out traveling for the first time in their lives. Those four Californians talking loudly with their affected gravely vocal fry must have been rewarded for such ugly public displays in their native Los Angeles, making them unaware of how profound their stupidity appears to us, who must endure their petty attempts to look and sound “cool.”

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Once inside the castle, all we needed to do was be patient and stick around like this bust of Charles I of England until the pestilence out of California moved on and remained well enough ahead of us that we’d never cross paths again. My apologies for including these particular details, but I’m on vacation, and more than usual, my senses are fine-tuned to bringing everything into mind with the hopes of gathering indelible impressions so when transgressions against civility raise the ugly specter of LOOK AT ME, I’m forced to oblige, no matter my disdain.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

This desk from 1580 was used by Christian IV (1577 – 1648) and would be familiar to him today because it remains where it was when he ruled Denmark so many hundreds of years ago. Unbeknownst to Caroline and me at the time of our visit and sadly mostly out of view, the lions mounted at the tops of the desk’s legs have movable eyes and jaws.

Update: After posting this, I received a reply to an email I sent to the staff of the Rosenborg Castle. A curator was kind enough to answer my question whether there was any video they knew of featuring the movable/animated parts of the desk, and this is their kind response:

“The mechanism is missing, so we don’t know how it worked, but the eyes were rolling, and the tongue moved back and forth. The back of the head can be opened to get access to the mechanism. In the mane just over the “shoulder” is a hole where a key can be inserted and the mechanism wound.”

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

The layout of many rooms in this palace is accurate to what Rosenborg would have appeared like to Christian IV from 1610 to 1648 while he lived here. Many of the furnishings, art, tapestries, and other details were as he set things up during his reign, with his successors making some adjustments but maintaining their authenticity.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

This astronomical clock, built by Isaac Habrecht in 1594, was originally placed at Christiansborg Palace and was only later moved to this location. It turns out that Habrecht and his brother Josias were commissioned to build the 2nd astronomical clock at Strasbourg Cathedral in France based on a design by Conrad Dasypodius. We have visited that cathedral, but the Habrechts’ clock was decommissioned in 1842 and replaced with a 3rd version that is operational to this day. To connect our world of history, we’ve also seen the astronomical clock in Prague, Czech Republic, which is the oldest operating such mechanism, dating from 1410.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

On the 1st of July, 1644, when King Christian IV would have already been 67 years old, he was battling the Swedish Navy on the Baltic Sea near Poland when cannon fragments injured him and took his right eye. After recovering from the initial blow from the wound, he fought on, cementing a reputation of being a warrior king. I find it interesting that he understood the historical ramifications of preserving this gruesome reminder of a nearly fatal injury and that future generations might be interested in seeing his bloodied battle attire.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Even kings must move their bowels and while the indoor plumbing drained, it did so into the moat surrounding the castle. This arrangement was okay most of the time and met the demands of the Danish aristocracy’s expectations of luxury, except at those times when the water in the moat evaporated, leaving a steaming pit whose fetid stench wafted back into the castle.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

I had to ask my local AI assistant Claude about the significance of the octagon during the Middle Ages, assuming that was the period that influenced the Early Modern when Rosenborg was being built. Well, it turns out that the octagon held geometrical, theological, and even mystical significance for medieval architects and designers as a symbol of order, balance, and harmony.

Caroline Wise at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

And here’s the shape again used for a mirror that at one time might have served Queen Anne Catherine of Brandenburg, wife of Christian IV, to see her reflected image, but today it’s showing me my queen, Caroline Elisabeth of Frankfurt.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Lingering in wait for others to exit an area allows us to dwell in a space unrushed by some necessity to “see it all” here in Copenhagen. Then, by trying my best to capture images that will prove worthy enough for inclusion, we’ll have points of reference to return to at a time when we can be more considerate of the things we have encountered. Once back home, wanting to offer context to the photos I’m sharing, I end up reading quite a bit about the history and other people’s observations that might complement my post. Caroline comes in at the point where I believe I’m done writing to check my grammar but also ends up fact-checking things as she’s never sure where I took liberties with the interpretation of what I thought I was understanding. Being German, she’s quite the stickler for factual, grammatically correct blog posts. [To anyone reading this blog: I apologize for errors that escaped my scrutiny – Caroline (only human, after all)]

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

These exercises in planning, traveling, visiting, reading, editing, and the discussions threaded between it all ultimately start to build an evolving body of knowledge that only leads to us wanting to know even more and ultimately make a return visit to better integrate the broad tapestry of pieces all the more likely. We’ve already started looking at books about the history of Denmark but are finding the offerings in English to be rudimentary and not very comprehensive.

Tapestry at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Throughout our time in Scandinavia (but not yet at this point in our journey), we noticed that none of the yarn shops in Denmark, Sweden, or Norway featured any tools or supplies to support local weavers and spinners. When asking about this, we learned that weaving in these countries is not really a big thing. (Caroline tells me that there are popular Scandinavian weaving magazines, loom manufacturers, and renowned fiber art schools, but for the casual shopper, this is not apparent). I went looking for where the tapestries in Rosenborg and Christiansborg originated and found that they were often woven by artists in Belgium, and contributions also arrived from France, Italy, England, and Germany. King Christian IV brought Flemish weavers to Denmark to establish local tapestry workshops, but that apparently never truly caught on.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

There are a lot of memories embedded in this post that will exceed its casual readability, and while I would like to greatly reduce my self-imposed obligation to offer an extensive record of our adventure, the only thing compromised would be what we can reflect upon. Take this image of hunting gear; I’m not a hunter, and aside from the horn, I can’t identify the other pieces here, but the ensemble of pieces taken as a whole probably looked much the way it did the last time the hunter king hung up his gear not knowing he’d never venture out again.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

How it is that we can move from room to room without crowds getting in the way, considering the waiting time for entry into the castle baffles me. Moments alone allow me to try and see the space in a way the last residents might have, but no amount of imagination can bridge that gap in time, culture, and knowledge of convenience as I’ve come to experience it.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

To build ornate structures of memory, words, images, and experiences from a life of exploring knowledge, history, art, music, flavors, sensations, and the diverse impressions we modern humans can pack into our lives fits me like the proverbial glove. If I feel amiss about something that may never be known or possessed, it would be that my limited capacity will forever be denied knowing a fraction of what I desire to understand. There are no riches, objects, or luxuries that could adequately feed my mind or happiness quite the same way if my life was left wanting more than what’s been achieved. I don’t mean to imply that if I were poor, I would have been satisfied with poverty-induced isolation or that if I were left lacking in the opportunity to acquire books and tools that would have allowed me to fulfill my hunger for feeding a curiosity that I could have drawn happiness from those deprivations. Instead, I’m well aware that I’ve always had just enough to remain on the good side of gratitude.

Clock detail at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

At what moment did the previous residents of this castle ask themselves, when is enough enough?

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Does someone like Johann Sebastian Bach ever feel like they’ve been able to express music adequately? Did Marcel Proust gain a sense of possessing a formidable vocabulary? Or what about the greatest mathematicians? Did they consider they’d arrived at a mastery over maths? Isn’t there something in those who are trying to achieve the nebulous that their goal is just out of grasp and that if they could seize that unknown piece of wisdom, their efforts would all make sense in some way that might squash their desire for the next thing? Did any king ever find enough? Do the wealthy come to understand the limits of time versus money and what they are ultimately exchanging? Where do the common people learn the extent of what their situation can offer them? “I want it all” seems ridiculous, crazy even.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

The Knight’s Hall with Christian VI’s throne at one end…

Narwhal Tusk Throne at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

…and the coronation chairs guarded by three silver lions. Note that the chair on the left has been built using four “magical” narwhal horns which at the time were worth their weight in gold.

Colt pistols gift of Abraham Lincoln at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

From the upper floors, we moved into the basement that houses the vault that protects the crown jewels and other valuables. These engraved Colt pistols were a gift to King Christian IX from President Abraham Lincoln, and before finding their way into the exhibit, the king actually used them on occasion for hunting.

Ivory sculpture at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

When we humans find that things are exotic and scarce, we put the highest value on those objects. Harvesting ivory, rhino horn, Quagga skin and meat, and tiger parts, we bring those species into extinction or close to it. We’ll allow people to die in horrible labor situations while they are collecting gold, diamonds, or other precious minerals. Today, we offer the wealthy private planes, unlimited property, and inordinate access to resources that we’ll likely look back upon and realize that we were allowing their death cult of wealth to wreak havoc by their exploitation while we worshiped their daring to take advantage of things at our expense. Ideas of divine right have changed little in 1,000 years.

Riding trappings at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

When you need that special saddle for mounting your narwhal on your wedding day.

Christian IV’s crown at the Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

Has anyone else noticed that Donald Trump’s hair has a certain color similarity with crowns? This was the crown of Christian IV while the Orange One only wishes he had one, along with the absolutist rule leaders once had.

Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

There were two jeweled cases made of silver and agate with enameled flowers in this display case, but it was the one on the right that caught my attention. Both were made by German artist Hans Jakob Mair from Augsburg in 1680. We’ve likely seen his work before, as he apparently created pieces for the Habsburgs, too. I’d like to see this piece as a kind of early television where the king could gaze into the agate and see himself reflected in the polished stone as though he were watching TV.

Queen Sophie Magdalene crown at the Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, Denmark

A crown fit for a queen. With that, it was time for us to move on to lunch fit for royalty.

Copenhagen, Denmark

No, this was not the carriage that would bring us to our simple yet luxurious meal at the top of a department store, but I will never fail to be impressed that people can leave $3,500 to $6,000 bikes chained up in public while in the States, we’d have to treat them like they were the crown jewels else they’d be nabbed in a quick second.

Smørrebrød in Copenhagen, Denmark

Smørrebrød was an instant favorite with us, and now, after having them for lunch for a second time, I can assure you that once back home in Arizona, we’ll make every effort to enjoy them again and again. From left to right, shrimp salad, potato, fried herring with capers and dill, and steak tartar with horseradish, pickle, and egg yolk.

Cardamom roll and coffee in Copenhagen, Denmark

According to one legend, it was botanist Carl Linnaeus back in the day advising important people in high places that the French habit of taking coffee was a threat to Swedish culture that was enjoying a “Kaffi” too. Between 1756 and 1817, coffee was banned on five different occasions; in retaliation, people inverted the word Kaffi and shuffled the syllables to come up with the word “Fika.” To this day in Sweden, Fika is the moment in the day when people stop for a coffee and a sweet and sit for a while to socialize. It is considered one of the essential breaks of daily life. The most common sweets appear to be the Kardemummabullar (cardamom buns) and Kanelbullar (cinnamon buns). We’ve opted to share our first cardamom bun this afternoon, and while we are obviously not in Sweden (yet), we are taking advantage of the opportunity to get a headstart on practicing how to Fika.

Frederik's Church in Copenhagen, Denmark

Here I am, well past the halfway point as far as the visual side of this post goes, sharing 3,300 words so far, but what you couldn’t know is that while on vacation, I penned fewer than 350 words as notes for when we got home. We were simply too busy enjoying our impressions and smiling at each other to worry about analyzing how we felt about anything, as happiness to be here was enough to sustain everything else that food didn’t care for. Yesterday, we were too late to visit the interior of Frederik’s Church; today, we won’t miss this opportunity.

Frederik's Church in Copenhagen, Denmark

This was not an easy place for me to photograph; the first image was from my phone and not my DSLR, this is not the first time I wish I’d brought the wide angle lens for my camera.

Frederik's Church in Copenhagen, Denmark

Frederick’s Church was named after King Frederick V, who placed the foundation stone for the building of this monument. Just how this drunkard king managed it is a bit of a surprise, as his alcoholism and hedonism meant he was essentially a failure in regard to governing. His lavish life led to an early death at 42 years old.

The Palace Chapel in Copenhagen, Denmark

This is the Palace Church that is part of the Christiansborg Palace which we are about to visit. Just like the Fredericks Church, it was designed by noted architect Nicolai Eigtved.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

Because one can never visit too many palaces and castles, we are about to step into Christiansborg Palace.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

And to be honest, while the space is certainly opulent, it feels like it’s missing the character and personality that Rosenborg had oodles of.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

Maybe visiting successive lavishly ornate places one after the other is a bad idea as comparisons are too easily made. Over 35 years ago, I visited Neuschwanstein Castle in southern Germany, and I can’t compare it to anything ever because I hardly remember a thing about the place, not to say we should have waited 35 years between visiting and Rosenborg and Christiansborg as the likelihood I’ve me being alive at 95 years old seems kind of remote.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

Maybe if we lived in Denmark and were to see these spaces being used for government functions, it would be like visiting the White House in Washington, D.C., where one understands the utility of the space and that it’s not just some giant place that once served a purpose.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

Mind you, this is a beautiful room, and I’m including both photos I took. In the previous angle, I feel that the lighting is perfect, while in this view having the perspective to see the art on the wall offers a better hint of life that’s occupied this palace since it started being used by Danish leaders.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

With the palace still used by the government to this day, I suppose I have to understand that it is not, strictly speaking, a museum to house treasures. The space must function as required for official governmental and diplomatic duties, whereas Rosenborg really is nothing more than a repository of Danish treasures and a well-defined historical representation of another age.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

Something else that might be impacting my ability to find a vibe is that we are relatively late in the day, and knowing that the clock is working against us means we must rush from room to room and only take cursory glances at the pieces deemed worthy enough to adorn the palace walls, floors, and ceilings. These large-scale tapestries (17 in total) were commissioned for the 50th birthday of Denmark’s current Queen Margrethe II in 2000 and woven by French and Belgian weavers to the designs of Danish artist Bjørn Nørgaard. They took ten years to complete and were inaugurated at the Queen’s 60th birthday in 2000. The tapestries depict different phases of Danish history as well as hopes for the future, and these photos do not do them justice.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

I know there are stories that belong to this palace and that not only do government functions occur here, but the royal family uses part of the palace as a residence. In a race to collect impressions, the larger narrative cannot be known, which has me wondering how, in our day-to-day lives, the race to collect wealth obscures the sight of a better narrative that might otherwise shape healthier and happier lives.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

How, in an age of relative enlightenment, do people grow up to accept the titles of kings and queens? The idea that their education hasn’t illuminated their minds to the absurdity of such an idea and that maybe they take the whole thing seriously sounds bizarre to me. Are they not simply actors pretending that they are fulfilling some role on a stage of stupidity where they take up thrones and accept people greeting them as though this is absolutely normal here in the 21st century? Adults living fairytales for people living in fantasies because reality might be too challenging.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

Below the palace are the ruins of previous versions of royal residences that ultimately sink out of view. My hunch is that the palace above us, as it’s used by a monarchy, will figuratively sink out of view too, as the roles of royalty fade over time, and Christiansborg will become a museum just as Rosenborg Castle has.

Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark

The palace kitchen is nothing more than an exhibit these days as with Foodora, Wolt, and maybe even Ubereats delivering, why would anyone keep a kitchen larger than 10 McDonald’s kitchens operational? Hello, this is Dominos; I see that you are calling from the Queen’s number. Would you like the usual?

Copenhagen, Denmark

This is Christian IV’s Brewhouse, first opened in 1608, that now serves as the Lapidarium of Kings, a home for statues. Open Wednesday through Sunday from 1:00 to 5:00 p.m. during the month of July, that’s it. This concept of making tourism compatible with seasons and the local population is a peculiar thought.

Copenhagen, Denmark

Last night’s walk took us northerly toward the Little Mermaid; this late day, we are heading in a southerly direction.

Caroline Wise at Hans Christian Anderson Statue in Copenhagen, Denmark

We briefly discussed a visit to Tivoli Gardens across the street from this statue of Hans Christian Andersen that Caroline has snuggled into. He’s looking up at the sign for Tivoli. It seems that almost everyone we’ve spoken with before and during this trip has asked if we’ll be visiting, but we can’t see the draw, and even if everything else is closed, there must be something better to do.

Copenhagen, Denmark

Yesterday, following the vegans in protest brought us to the edge of city hall across from Tivoli, but we were more interested in visiting the Round Tower, so we missed details such as these, and yet again, we are pulling ourselves away from this square as we’ve decided on what’s ahead.

Copenhagen, Denmark

First, we’ll need a tram to the Nørrebro Street station.

Harry's Place in Copenhagen, Denmark

Next, Harry’s Place, which I’d first heard of from foodie YouTuber Mark Wiens. We were here to try their crispy pork sandwich, and it certainly was great, but it turns out that they are really famous for their hot dogs boiled in beef tallow, which makes them super crispy. While we were already stuffed, the woman behind the counter convinced us that life would be incomplete if we didn’t stuff one of these giant wieners down our gullets. Hanging out for a while with our host, we learned how the founder first gathered traction by getting a lucrative contract to serve his hot dogs at the local prison (the crispy sausages are called “Børge” after a local jailer), and from there he continued to gather steam. And the woman, whose name is forgotten, well, she’s been to 41 of the Roskilde Festivals that have been taking place since 1971, and sadly, I’ve never been to one of them, though I lived only 400 miles south of Roskilde, Denmark.

Soren Kierkegaard Grave in Copenhagen, Denmark

Though it had been raining when we arrived at Harry’s Place, it had stopped before we were done, and so we calculated on our good luck that we’d make our next and final destination of the day before it started raining again because the heavens often smile upon us. Bad calculation here, but it was really nothing more than a light sprinkle of moisture, so we were good until we stepped into the Assistens Kirkegård (cemetery). Our puny umbrellas did little during the increasing downpour, but we were already in the cemetery and here to see the graves of Hans Christian Andersen, Niels Bohr (we’d recently seen the movie Oppenheimer), and Søren Kierkegaard. My photo of Andersen’s grave just didn’t work out, so we gave up on the idea of seeing Bohr’s because after getting a reasonable image of Kierkagaard’s final resting place, the celestial onslaught combined with the increasingly close lightning strikes had us sprinting (as much as older people sprint in the dark) across the cemetery trying to avoid the puddles growing in the middle of the paths. Between laughter and minor frustration that we put ourselves out here with nowhere to find cover, we finally made it to the edge of the cemetery, where an underground metro stop was about to return us to Orientkaj, bringing our day in Copenhagen to a close.

Deutsche Familie

Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof Germany

Against a backdrop of thunder, our day began with a short walk over to Café Dillenburg, formerly Brot & Freunde, to fetch our daily bread. After breakfast, with no time to dawdle, we were just as quick about catching the subway to Hauptwache and then another to the Hauptbahnhof, where we boarded yet another train to Geisenheim. Along the way, we passed Königin Viktoriaberg (Queen Victoria) Vineyard in Hochheim, named after a mid-19th century visit of the queen, but we are not out for sightseeing today; that begins tomorrow. Today, we are spending more time with family.

At our train stop in Mainz-Kastel, our train was joined by a couple of young Ukrainians carrying a wine bottle and apparently already drunk here at 9:30 in the morning. Their boisterous voices weren’t going to be tempered, regardless of the amount of stinkeye the people sitting around them were sending their way. No matter the difficulty in being away from home due to your country being at war, you are ambassadors of Ukraine, leaving impressions on the people helping fund your efforts and offering you refuge.

John Wise and Hanns Engelhardt in Geisenheim, Germany

Pulling into the station at Geisenheim, we’d chosen precisely the right car to sit in and the right doors to exit because right there before us was Father Hanns, happy to greet us. Caroline’s father is working on closing out his 90th year so he can lay claim to having reached that rarified age that is the decade before one might see 100 years of life. While Hanns offers up a few anecdotal issues about having reached this point in his life, it is not easy to see age overtaking him yet. Sure, he struggles with his eyes, and a cane is part of his outfit. Still, his mind remains deeply curious, though momentarily troubled by his ongoing struggle to part with books that have been constant companions for the majority of his life.

Vevie Engelhardt in Germany

Father Hanns is giving up many of his books because he is moving to Geisenheim full-time after maintaining a small apartment/bungalow in Karlsruhe for decades and commuting between the two locations. Vevie (or Maria, as Hanns affectionately calls her) has been living on her own in Geisenheim for much of that time, but it has become apparent that she needs more care. Remembering how difficult it was to shed a majority of our books when we moved from Germany to the United States in the 1990s, I can hardly imagine how hard it must be for him to have to part with so many beloved books, many of which are family heirlooms.

Caroline Wise, Hanns Engelhardt, and Vevie Engelhardt in Geisenheim, Germany

Over a bottle of sparkling wine, the four of us sat on the terrace to talk while the skies were clearing. For the better part of 90 minutes, I tried pushing the conversation back to German as Vevie’s frustration at not understanding the English we were speaking was bedeviling her. This wasn’t quite so dramatic on previous visits. For Father Hanns, exercising his wit and humor in English allows his inner rascal to make an appearance as he so enjoys jokes and wordplay and, these days, probably does not often have the opportunity for banter.

I’d imagine that for an intellectual with German as their mother tongue, proficiency and control of linguistic complexity in German are taken for granted. In English or Hungarian, Hanns has the opportunity to spin tales with a flare that exemplifies his love of a broad body of knowledge that likely surprises and delights those he enters conversations with.

By noon, it’s lunchtime for Caroline, Hanns, and me, as Vevie prefers to stay in. Leaving the apartment, I spot the collected works of Arthur Schopenhauer, which is one of the authors Hanns cannot part with. At the nearby restaurant with an odd mix of German and Indian food along with a fairly extensive pizza menu, Hanns is able to open the throttle in English. The conversation turns to the social side of politics and after a blindingly fast 2.5 hour spent at our midday meal, it’s nearly time for Caroline and I to catch our train back to Frankfurt. In a parting thought, I offer to return to Germany later this year or early next to spend a couple of weeks talking philosophy, religion, and social responsibility with my father-in-law.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Back in Frankfurt, we visit Jutta once more before taking off to other lands tomorrow. While Caroline and her mom were chatting, I sat out on the balcony catching up on my note-taking when one of the orderlies named Rouven Dorn, whom I’d met a couple of years earlier, came out for a smoke, and we got to talking. Turns out that he, too, is a fan of Schopenhauer, and upon hearing we are heading to Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, he shared that his favorite Swedish metal band is called Sabaton and that I should take a listen to No Bullets Fly and Lifetime of War. There was more to the conversation, as there always is, but those details are lost in the ether as nothing more was shared with my notebook.

Demonstration in Frankfurt, Germany

Another day, another demonstration.

Demonstration in Frankfurt, Germany

I believe this is an anti-Taliban and consequently an anti-Pakistan demonstration as from my reading of their call to free Ali Wazir, they are voicing their displeasure with Pakistan’s support of the Taliban and that Ali Wazir was arrested in retaliation for his anti-Taliban stance. But I didn’t stop and talk with these young men since my German is not good enough to have a discussion about politics and how they relate to Afghanistan and its neighbor to the south. I do, though, respect that this kind of public conversation and display of concern is alive and well in Germany, even if it pales in comparison to the determination of the French to raise their voice.

Döner kebab in Frankfurt, Germany

There will be no burning of the proverbial midnight oil, no sit-down dinner, and no wandering in nostalgia as we have an early flight in the morning and need to be packed and ready to go this evening. With that in mind, dinner for the second night in a row will be Döner and while the place is called Döneria, it’s different enough to not be as amazing as the one in Bornheim. Funny that I can try being picky while I’m here when it’s been two years since my last Döner, but with the limited number I can possibly eat while in Germany, I need to make the best of these opportunities.

Frankfurt, Germany

There’s a strange side to what I find so familiar. I know that within some number of years, I will never gaze upon any of the sights that were so common to my senses at the times I was present. I will have passed away. Those who are but teenagers on that day I die will be traveling in their own routines past the familiar and won’t have considered yet how anything changed over the course of years others were familiarizing themselves with corners of a city. Nor will they be entertaining ideas that their time to be witness of the places they may be taking for granted will pass out of their view as yet another person picks up another new relationship of seeing a place as part of their unique life. This though is the nature of life; we all pass in and out of the places we’d love to fondly remember forever.

Airborne Bus

Caroline Wise and John Wise flying out of Phoenix, Arizona

In momentous personal news, preparations have concluded, and mere minutes remain before our position on the globe will transition to another continent. With that, I needed to turn my attention to finish writing about our weekend visit to Kartchner Caverns, as I certainly don’t want to drag unfinished details into our vacation plans.

At first glance, it might be obvious that we are not in America, not in Arizona, not at home, but that would be a false conclusion based on what you think you see. First and foremost, we are still within ourselves, though the physical positioning of our bodies will be in a location other than what is more typical for our existence. I need to break away from that paradigm and become unseen in this image that betrays what I’m trying to claim. You see, I don’t want to create envy, I would rather share a desire to have gathered more and created more intrinsic value to dreams than to demonstrate our ability to consume.

When you see images of Caroline and myself on these pages over the coming weeks, they are not posted here to show the reader/visitor that these are the faces of the fortunate; they are meant to become vivid reminders that the profound experiences brought into our senses, were in fact, taken in by the two people in the photos. We become incredulous over time that these experiences were our own. On that note, there is a striving to find more than what can be represented visually and hence the nonstop effort to write through attempts of discovery at what is not immediately seen but hinted at through some level of vague understanding. In this sense, I tend to dislike the selfies and feel more meaning is shared through interpretation than through images of us in iconic locations.

I can’t emphasize enough that we do not travel for prestige or to make impressions upon those who desire to envy others for their good luck; we venture into our minds and imaginations for the edification of a deep part from within our souls. Travel is but one aspect of that process that also relies on books, music, and exploration of our local environment, while on rare occasions, we can indulge in conversations with equally curious people that extend how we rewire our brains and enrich our lives.

Aside from our own publicly available journal, where we’ve selectively allowed others to peer into some of the minutiae of the day, we are leaving traces for future generations to more accurately understand where we’ve traveled both literally and figurately in our growth towards our own end. The world of my grandfather in post-World War II America was a wildly different environment of small roads, faraway places, mom-and-pop diners, motels, and destinations where services might be uncertain. Compare that to our time with major highways; we can travel with cars that don’t run on gasoline, cheap airline tickets that can whisk us closer to our destination and can have an Uber deliver us the last miles, diners which are mostly gone, replaced by franchises that serve the exact same food as a location 2,000 miles away, electronic maps that work on phones that are often smaller than the pack of cigarettes my family would have been smoking, and lodgings that are air-conditioned with free WiFi, pools, gyms, and earn us points for discounts on other stuff. To believe that our travel experiences in the 2020s will be like those who will be following in our footsteps in the last decade of the 21st century is folly.

While we can glance back at the black and white images of “classic” cars traveling down Route 66 and gaze upon the old postcards of places that no longer exist, what is rare from that time is the narrative of where those travelers were intellectually as they embarked on adventures into places that were exceedingly distant in ways other than distance. Our world, on the other hand is instantly available where we can easily find what time sunrise will be a year into the future. We can drag an icon onto a map and travel down the street to see a place before ever being physically present, and we can read the reviews of people from around the globe who extoll the delights of a restaurant or hotel or heap disdain upon the service that didn’t match the quality of what they’re familiar with from their far-away home.

The idea that the pampering of travelers and how well they were treated by those feeding, sheltering, or otherwise offering them services should be the core subject of what constitutes an immersive experience is tragically simple-minded, repulsive even. The primary subject of importance in travel is how the individual grows. But such is the nature of our social idolatry in a time where we are the fetish and demand that others worship us while we bask in perceived luxury. For Caroline and I, the intellectual and emotional aspects of travel are the most important, we are astonished that others are available on our behalf to make our explorations so simple and relatively comfortable. We are out here to honor our potential to gather knowledge and experience what remains of our cities, forests, oceans, museums, trails, and the earth in general.

The absolute miracle of having lived so long and seen so much is not lost on us; we are grateful that this peculiarity is our truth and is still an ongoing adventure with infinite potential. Many people who’ve learned about our next travel plans wish us good luck in seeing things or having favorable conditions for the duration of our sojourn into a place, and yet, I believe I can claim without exaggeration that none have ever commented on the opportunity for us to return as more enlightened people who were able to sample something from the depths of human experience that helped the romanticized heroes of the past gain immortality in their own observations outside of their routine. Do others not travel with expectations of discovering intellectual magic extracted from the immense beauty of thrusting one’s self into new experiences? We are not trophy hunters; we are too ravenous to know ourselves better than to waste our time on egos.

Flossers and Geronimo

Dutch Bros in Mesa, Arizona

Days go by, and before we know it, we’re stopping for coffee to help propel our drive into another weekend away from Phoenix. Where, pray tell, are we going? Dutch Bros, obviously, unless you mean our ultimate destination, which on this day is about 200 miles out of town.

Flossers

As I walked up to the window at Dutch, there were these “His and Hers Deluxe Flossers with Built-in Dental Picks” sitting on the ground, waiting for a lucky couple to find them, and now they are all ours. The rarity of the occasion is an incredible surprise because we typically only see flossers flying solo, and I can’t recollect coming across a flosser with an included dental pick. True astonishment doesn’t arrive easily, but today, we are swooning at the serendipitous nature of this magic moment and are happy to share it here for posterity on the blog of John and Caroline Wise.

Geronimo, Arizona

Goodbye, Geronimo. We watch this town, which likely never had a chance, decay and disappear from the map. Some day, it will disappear from memory. Once upon a time, this place was the home of Camp Thomas, but it was moved east and became Fort Thomas. At some point, there was a small town here with lodging, a market, a gas station, supposedly a post office, and even a rail stop, but the information was thin.

Geronimo, Arizona

Just trying to find any photos from a time these businesses were operational has proven impossible. Has this place always looked like a murder scene?

Kawasaki Equalizer in Geronimo, Arizona

This must be some extremely rare piece of audio equipment, as learning a thing about this Kawasaki amplifier/equalizer is more difficult than finding any info about this ghost town called Geronimo.

Sunset over Highway 70 in Eastern Arizona

The adage, “Go West,” is not being heeded this day as our destination is to the east.

Caroline Wise and John Wise during sunset on Highway 70 in Eastern Arizona

We were still more than an hour away from Duncan, Arizona, and the Simpson Hotel, where we’ll be spending the weekend. If that name sounds familiar, it would be because we’ve stayed there on a few other occasions, and I’m guessing we might return for yet one more visit later this year.

On the Move in Santa Fe

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

The road northeast out of Santa Fe brings visitors into the Santa Fe National Forest, and while it’s ultimately a dead end farther up the road, we are only going as far as the Big Tesuque Campground, where a trail of the same name begins and ends. If only we could find the trail. It was Alltrails that had brought this particular route to my attention, and somehow, I’m failing to see where the trailhead is, in spite of the nearby map that is useless. We ask someone who appears to be camping here, but he doesn’t know where the Big Tesuque Trail is either. Just then, across the street, a post caught my attention as the likely marker for the beginning of the trail. Bingo.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

With the capital city of New Mexico just below us at about 7,200 feet, it should be no surprise that our forest route could start at 9,700 feet (2,950 meters) of elevation. What I really want to point out here is that, as we stepped from the car, the temperature was a relatively brisk 56 degrees (13 Celsius) or cold enough to our summer acclimated desert skin that a sweater was briefly considered, but no, we’d tough it out. It wasn’t only the cool air that greeted us: the nearby stream and the birds all sang songs that were music to our senses.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

Oh my god! Rock, needles, shield lichen, and moss in a configuration we’ve never seen before. Isn’t the forest simply enchanted in its beauty?

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

This is the point on the trail where one stops to make a wish that all successive days will be just as perfect as this one.

Caroline Wise on the Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

I don’t believe Caroline has ever worn a skirt while hiking in a forest, nor has she carried her purse. This combo gives her the silhouette of a Mennonite from time to time, depending on the light upon or behind her here on the trail.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

Wait a sec, I see a butterfly and am prepared to take 30 or more photos while I try my best to snap one with its wings perfectly open for me to capture the hidden message buried in the patterns I cannot decipher since I’m not a butterfly.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

Nearly the same process takes place as I try to capture a selfie of Caroline and me with her eyes open, my hair not out of place, our glasses too low on our noses, no food on Caroline’s teeth, no dangling boogers, poor focus, one of us in a shadow or too bright of sun, or any of the other multitude of things that go wrong while trying to take a photo of the two of us. By the way, has anyone ever wondered if Caroline and I are roughly the same height? We are not, but when taking our photo, I bend my knees so we can appear cheek to cheek in our selfies. I also grab hold of one of her butt cheeks (which nearly always makes her laugh) before I start snapping photos and wildly moving the camera into different positions hoping that we are somewhere in the center. Some of you may think that taking a selfie is not that hard, but I would surmise that you are using your phone while I use my DSLR that; on more than one occasion, has allowed me to repair an image where lighting proved difficult, kind of like this one with the bright background. One thing I can’t take into account or fix is that we seem to be aging in our photos as the years pass.

Caroline Wise on the Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

I had a choice: share the image of the damned dental flosser Caroline spotted on the trail (yeah, seriously, a dental flosser on a forest trail because everywhere is the right place for proper dental hygiene) or the eleven cents we found. Just how we managed to see any of this perplexes us, too, but there’s proof of the change. Barely a week passes that we don’t see discarded dental flossers or pick-up change on a walk.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

We could have taken this flower too and packed it between pages of a book as a keepsake, but then the next person would have been denied this beautiful scene,  and seeing Caroline already pocketed not only the dental flosser and the loose change, she also picked up a stinky cigarette butt.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

I’m going to put it out there that this is Pedicularis procera (giant lousewort), but we’ll let Caroline verify this as her “Search-fu” is far more attuned to perfection than any weak effort I throw at finding facts, meaning you really shouldn’t use my writing as something that arrives with any veracity. [Yes, you did get it right – this time… Caroline]

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

The trail guide said the walk was easy. It also said there would be only 597 feet (182 meters) of elevation gain. NO WAY, and I also don’t believe that the trail was 3.6 miles (5.8 km) long, WHATEVER.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

After HOURS (1.75 hours without exaggerating), we have reconnected with the first leg of our hike, thus closing the loop, and are mere minutes away from reaching our car to head back down the hill to the International Folk Art Market.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

Yellow salsify is this flower’s name, but I certainly like the other name for it better: yellow goatsbeard.

Big Tesuque Trail in the Santa Fe National Forest, Santa Fe, New Mexico

I’d mentioned the nearby stream we heard after getting out of our car; that stream flows just past the trailhead marker, and this is it right here. Its proper name is North Fork Tesuque Creek, meaning it is not actually a stream. Somehow, we lengthened the trail to 4.1 miles (6.6 km) and added a few dozen extra feet to the elevation gain, but now we’re done and need to head back to the city.

International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

With no time to waste and following the maxim of “no rest for the wicked,” we were off the mountain and back at the market. We happened to catch this performance group having photos taken at the entrance, which reminds me that I should point out that the stage remained busy nearly all day, and in a nearby hall, talks/workshops are part of the program (for an extra charge). We attended one of the talks yesterday, but to be frank, the organizer of IFAM would be well advised to better screen and direct their speakers prior to the event. As for the performers on stage, Caroline and I did watch a few dancers from a local group perform dances, but there was not enough shaded seating available to invite us to hang out longer so we soon returned to meandering the grounds and were always on the move scouring the booths for something we might have missed.

Karma Choden of Bhutan and Caroline Wise at the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

This blog post is being put together much like a length of woven fabric: Caroline and I are the weft, and these experiences are the warp. Because we are weaving so much of ourselves into such an incredible number of experiences today, it takes forever for the thing to take shape. Had we slept in, skipped the hike, visited the market, and did little else, I wouldn’t have nearly as much to share. I could have just thrown a few threads of what the day entailed into this post, and would have been done lickety-split. Instead, there are 41 photos representing our day, with 25 of them still to be scrolled past. As for the textile being shown, it is a rachu (ceremonial scarf or sash worn by Bhutanese women on special occasions) woven by the mother of Karma Choden of Bhutan who’s standing next to Caroline.

Bracelet from Crucelina Chocho of Columbia at the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

If you ask me, I think Caroline might be basing her purchases on ideas of geography in order to figuratively travel to all these places via the fiber arts. These bracelets are made by basketry artist Crucelina Chocho of Columbia, a member of the Wounaan indigenous group, using Werregue palm fibers.

International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Trying to be discrete in capturing a photo of her earrings in the shape of Africa, this woman turned towards me with the smile that won “Best Smile of IFAM 2023.”

Olinda Silvano of Peru and Caroline Wise at the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

While the cloth in this stand didn’t capture Caroline’s eye, the bracelet made of black and red seeds did. Caroline’s been using a Dremel to grind holes into Texas mountain laurel seeds she wants to make into a necklace, and seeing such unique seeds from the Amazon was just the kind of thing that helped inspire her. This bracelet was made by the lady on Caroline’s right; she is Olinda Silvano of Peru.

Scissors from Zavkiddin Kamalov of Uzbekistan at the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Why one can never have enough scissors is beyond my ability to write something that could explain the mind of my wife and her collection of things with fetish value. I may never truly understand this, but these little things definitely bring her joy.

Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Last year at this time, the International Folk Art Market was held up here on Museum Hill. This year, it is hosted at the Railyard Park near the old town, and the museum area is awfully quiet. We are here because museum tickets are half-price for IFAM visitors this weekend, and more important than that, we were drawn in by an exhibit titled Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm: The Alaska Native Parka at the Museum of International Folk Art.

Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

The first collection we browsed was an ongoing exhibit called Multiple Visions: A Common Bond. There are over 10,000 artifacts from all over the world on display, and one can get lost in trying to look at everything. What is neat is that objects are not presented based on their subjects, usage, or style and are not separated by provenance, which makes connections and relationships between seemingly remote cultures apparent. Check out some of the items virtually here.

Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

The reason behind the museum is that handcraft matters.

Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Last year at Meow Wolf, Caroline and I spotted a sculpture that we both thought enchanting. Of the many thousands of objects in this wing of the Museum of Folk Art, I happened to find this one that seemed familiar. Upon getting home, it turns out that there is a similarity. Click here and scroll down about 2/3rds of the page to compare this figurine to the piece in Meow Wolf and tell me if this is where the inspiration came from.

Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Gathering for the dead.

Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Gathering for the living.

Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

We’ve arrived in the hall featuring the exhibit Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm: The Alaska Native Parka. There are 20 parkas on display representing 6 Alaska Native communities: Dena’ina, Iñupiaq, Koyukon, St. Lawrence Island Yupik, Unangan, and Yup’ik. Along with the garments (vintage as well as contemporary), we can see drawings, dolls, tools, and more.

Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Who doesn’t dream of spending at least some short period of time in the Arctic and having the opportunity to wear something like this parka? As I write this on a mid-July day in Phoenix, Arizona, with temperatures hovering just below 120 degrees (49c), it is difficult to envision so much fur adorning my body (especially as a more hairless version of our species), but a naked ape can dream, can’t he?

Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

A seal skin doll is exactly what many of us have desired; go ahead and admit it.

Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

This St Lawrence Island Yupik ceremonial parka is made of seal gut, auklet crests, seal fur, cormorant feathers, cotton thread, and red ocher.

Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

While this seal skin parka might make a great windbreaker, I can’t help that after an hour of sweating inside your waterproof hide; you’d smell like fish. One other thing about this garb: who else thinks it looks a bit Frankensteinish?

Ghhúunayúkata / To Keep Them Warm at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

We can consider ourselves lucky that images such as these were painted about 100 years ago so we can glimpse a view of what life was like way up north. While life would have already changed for the indigenous people of the Arctic, this was still closer to their roots than what we’d see after film began capturing their lives.

Mexican Art of Paper and Paste at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

The third exhibit we visited is titled La Cartoneria: Mexican Art of Paper and Paste and has a heavy Day of the Dead feel.

Mexican Art of Paper and Paste at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

We don’t have a lot of time to dwell here in the museum due to a commitment starting at 6:00 and my impression was that we were here to see the parka exhibit. Little did I understand that all parts of the Folk Art Museum were going to be of such interest.

Yōkai: Ghosts & Demons of Japan at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

The last exhibit for us here at the museum is titled Yōkai: Ghosts & Demons of Japan.

Yōkai: Ghosts & Demons of Japan at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

I have to admit to only a passing interest in this exhibit, as ghosts and demons are not really my thing. In lighthearted films lampooning the subject, and in some anime, I can find appreciation, but it’s a rare day.

Yōkai: Ghosts & Demons of Japan at the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico

The utility of the subject matter for children or in entertainment is okay, but older American adults who take it all to heart and believe in it tend to make it all a bit repugnant. Obviously, that’s just me.

International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Our 6:00 commitment is back at the International Folk Art Market for the night segment. This was a separate entry, and while we thought we’d spent everything we were going to spend, it turns out that Caroline wasn’t finished ogling exotic clothes, and this bag from Zsuzsa Zsigmond of Hungary apparently pushed some buttons.

International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

While we love these giant woven baskets from Nanasei Agyemang of Ghana, we simply do not have the space to keep one in our tiny apartment. Every time we see them in someone’s arms, they put a smile on our faces that they are so fortunate to be the new owner of such a unique basket.

Peruvian weaver at the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

You’d have to be a real nudnik not to love everything about Peruvian weavers.

International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Live music and a bar were part of the Night Market here at IFAM, and while we were here, this side of things had little interest for us as we were inching towards exhaustion. So, after a final walk of the vendor booths, we said goodbye to another year that saw our attendance and hopefully not our last. As a matter of fact, before finishing writing that, I went over to the IFAM website to see that they posted the dates of next year’s 20th Annual Market running from July 11th to the 14th, and so I took the opportunity and booked our rooms at Motel 6 just around the corner of the Railyard Park.