Waiting for the sun (Copenhagen, Denmark part 2)

Hello again dear reader, today's title might be somewhat of a give away. After yesterday's beautiful sunny afternoon we returned to more familiar patterns of grey cloud and drizzle. Well, following a brief burst of morning sunshine. Once again we were left waiting for the sun, a classic from one of the best bands to come out of America, The Doors.

Our discovery of Copenhagen continues. There is so much to do here, museums, galleries, historic buildings and statues, of course. Being here over Easter has limited our options due to public holidays so we have decided we will definitely return in their summer next year. Although our accommodation is spacious and very central, we hope to stay in the same building but on the ground floor.

Our second full day was also affected by the weather. The cold has really not been an issue for us. Thermals, a warm coat and gloves and a beanie work wonders. Even the rain hasn't been such a problem. Drizzle is never far away and mostly is just an inconvenience since it is so light. Not today. Rain is predicted.

Our place through the Rosenborg gate.

At breakfast we returned to Buka to sample different pastries but still with a double espresso. It was reasonably cool, but not cold. We returned home to rescue the washing and place it in the drier.

Reffen

Initially our intention was to go to Reffen in the morning before the rain set in. Despite Easter, Reffen was open and had a number of events happening to attract the holiday crowd. There's food, alcohol, music and dancing. Some Christian religions would be appalled.

Reffen is a street food market where you can buy street food, obvious, but also fresh food to take home and cook. It was a 30 minute bus ride and given the weather and the need to check out the station for our impending departure, Reffen got the flick. Until next time.

Central Station

The bag-drag to our accommodation was defined by crowds, cobblestones and misdirection. Walking 2 km with a wheelie bag is OK if the conditions are kind. I was determined to arrive at the station on Saturday, not stressed or tired or sweating profusely. Searching for the route that would deliver this was problematic because a lot of it was similar to the reason why the LNP elected Dutton as leader, a mystery.

The back of the Church of the Trinity.

We set the GPS which immediately redirected us to the path we had trodden a couple of days before. Useless. With a rough map in my head, we continued on regardless until Google caught up with us. I ditched Declan for this excursion. It proved to be an interesting morning. We finally found the Roundtower which is part of the Church of the Trinity. There was quite a queue to walk up the spiral ramp. The line moved slowly and we had other plans.

The Roundtower.

A little further along our chosen path, we came across two armed soldiers patrolling a section of road that had been closed to cars by the installation of metal swing gates at either end. Interesting. On the fence protecting the building from the street and passing traffic were laminated photographs each captioned "bring them home". It was outside the Great Synagogue. No photos.

The spire of St Peter's.

The rest of the walk was unremarkable. Cafés, restaurants, shops of various descriptions, the usual medley of buildings and businesses. The cobblestones still made their presence felt but not to the extent of our previous trek.

We arrived at the station in 35 minutes, including time for me stop and take photographs, found the required platform and returned home before the drizzle turned to rain. And to see if the washing was dry. Navigating washing machines and dryers is a little challenging when all the controls are marked in Danish or German.

Part of the bike storage at Copenhagen Central Station.

The rain increased in intensity and kept us indoors for the afternoon. Once it cleared, we ventured out in search of dinner.

Bistro 23

The rain had gone but the wind had picked up and it was certainly like a slap in the face if you turned into it. Jayne's coat has a hood and I wore a beanie as we set out to find a restaurant that served steak. That was the easy part. The French influence ensured there were many offerings of steak et frites. The problem was in the size of the offering.

Bistro 23 from across the water.

The first restaurant had the steak but not anything for Jayne. The next offered a 300g steak, way too much for me. And so we kept wandering and reading menus, passing many, many pizza places until we were back at Kongens Nytorv, a stone's throw from Nyhavn.

As I said in the last post, Nyhavn is lined with restaurants but we were uncertain whether they offered seating inside. All the action on a sunny day was outside. As we walked alongside the King's New Square where yesterday we sat in the sun and sipped beer, Jayne quipped, "I'll bet there is no problem getting a seat over there now." A particularly icy blast send my hands deeper into my pockets. She was right, there were plenty of seats available, but amazingly there were also some hardy souls sitting at tables drinking cocktails. And smoking of course.

Flowering bulbs hanging outside a florist.

We soldiered on until we stumbled across Bistro 23 in Nyhavn. A French Bistro with the right dishes, a waiter with a good sense of humour and most importantly, tables inside out of the wind. We may have left the Arctic circle but tonight it hadn't left us.

We had a delightful meal accompanied by a silky, smooth French red. My steak was perfectly cooked and Jayne's lamb chops turned out to be a rack of lamb. No complaints here. We were warm and comfortable and outside the smokers, rugged up like Kenny from Southpark, we're enduring freezing winds so they could feed their habit. Brave? Determined? Stupid? Addicted? I'm not judging, just smirking with a kind of Scott Morrison smugness.

Caspar, our waiter, gave us his card. We told him we'd see him in the summer next year. He thought national service might intervene on our rendezvous. He had not been required this year because there were too many candidates. I guess we'll see. I've written his name on the card so we won't forget.

It was a 10 minute stroll home. We really are in a central location.

Until next time.

The Bridge (Budapest)

Good morning dear reader. I apologise for a swiftly concluded post yesterday, I hit the wall, as they say. However, a good night's sleep has replenished my energy - Prince Planet style. No? Google it.

Last night we walked all of three minutes to the Pest-Buda Restaurant for some authentic, local cuisine and wine. We were kindly offered a choice of inside or al fresco dining. The restaurant was small and it was extremely close inside. Close enough for me to hit the misbehaving, screaming brat strapped into his stroller at the next table. Jayne thought it better at that point to enjoy the fresh air of a Buda evening. She is so wise.

Pest-Buda Restaurant

The bistro itself claims to be the oldest, blah, blah, and the reverse name of the capital reflects a time, many years ago when Pest was dominant over Buda. Curious and cheeky in a restaurant located on the Buda side.

Onto the pavement table outside, we discussed the menu and wine list with the waiter.  We selected a 6 year old white wine of Hungarian origin. It was reasonably dry with a slight honey finish. I have no idea what the grape was because my Magyar is non-existent. Jayne opted for a classic paprika chicken and noodle dish and I had chicken cordon blue and the crumb was just magic.

We were soon joined by a British family and their two children. I'm pleased to report that both parents and children were well behaved. That was a novelty given some of the antics we've seen from younger Brits. Someone should inform them that Europe is not the scene of some trashy reality program they've been watching. 

Behind us sat four Americans who talked and laughed all through their dinner. I had my back to them but Jayne could see them clearly and believed they were related and travelling together. After their dinner, maybe an hour after we had arrived, they stood to go. To our astonishment, the couples then introduced themselves to the other, said good night, and disappeared in opposite directions, presumably never to see each other again. This is not an uncommon scene and was replicated at breakfast this morning with people conducting conversations across tables. So loud. So unnecessary. We just don't understand this behaviour. We haven't heard any Australian accents yet, but even if we had, the chance is we would not acknowledge the speakers. Unless we knew them.

Quoth the raven nevermore

Buda's Castle District, where we are staying, is locked off from the remainder of the population by a series of boom gates. We can only assume this is in response to the fact that Buda is home to both the Hungarian President and the Prime Minister. Yesterday we witnessed a people moving van turned back because ... well, we don't know. Perhaps they were undesirables from Pest, over the bridge, or OTB as we say at home. Buda is like the Northern Beaches or the Shire to south of Sydney or even Bondi (the trainline stops at Bondi Junction to keep the riff raff away from the golden sands and beautiful people of Bondi). The northern and southern peninsulas each have bridges to be crossed before you can enter their communities. Bondi wishes it had one. Buda has several at its disposal and makes doubly sure with the boom gates. It's not like we don't understand, we do. We don't trust people from OTB either.

You shall not pass

Unfortunately my sleep patterns are still not in sync with this part of the world and I was wide awake before sunrise. Rather than waste the early morning, I decided to take advantage of the quiet hours to access, free of charge and tour groups, the very popular vantage points around the Fisherman's Bastion to take some photos. Surprisingly at 5:30am I was not alone. There were others out to beat the crowds and the cost as well. 

Another statue

They even carve them into the walls

Alora, as an Italian friend is want to say. At breakfast today, Jayne scared one of the wait staff. It's always interesting to see what eventuates when we are asked would we like a coffee. Yes please, a double shot espresso. The response, regardless of what part of the world you are in, is usually the same. Disbelief. Did I hear that correctly? Then we have the repetitive routine, an espresso with two shots? Yes, please. Off she wanders, shell shocked. Could this be true? There is consultation at the door. She returns, some time later, with one cup of coffee. It looks good. Jayne then repeats the same order for me. Still struggling with our request she moves away. Shortly after Jayne takes her first sip, the Maitre'd arrives at the table and looks quizzically at Jayne's coffee and asks if everything is OK. Absolutely. The coffee was gooood.

Post breakfast, we had planned local morning excursions around the Castle area. Buda has the view and looks over the River Danube and Pest, but it just lacks a genuine soul. You can feign superiority in splendid isolation but, once you cross the bridge, all pretence is over and you enter reality.

I'm looking down on you

And so to the Castle we walked. At least that was the plan, but someone insisted on using the map on the phone to direct us in our walk. Despite many previous failures with this app, I put the destination in and requested directions. Off we set. Down towards the gate at the Fisherman's Bastion, down the stairs, until the little female inside my phone began issuing contradictory orders. Like "turn right" into a stone wall. After several attempts and wasting data, I turned the phone off and followed the road. Magic. We arrived at the Castle after walking past some more major renovations. This country should enter the TV show The Block. They would nail it. In all seriousness, the scale of what they are attempting is astounding and to see it all completed would be breathtaking. For that reason alone, we will be back.

These guys appeared from nowhere

The Castle is not open to the extent it used to be because, as previously mentioned, the President and Prime Minister have their official residences close by. We saw the guards doing their thing; not as impressive as those at Buckingham Palace, but I'd back the Hungarian guys chasing down and catching their quarry because they don't have to wear those stupid big furry hats. We joined the throng of tourists that walked the perimeter of the Castle and did not go inside the multitude of museums. There were, apparently, other themed attractions but we couldn't find a way in. The only place that appeared to be able to offer information, the souvenir shop, was "closing" at 10:10am and wouldn't be re-opening for "half an hour or more". Given the number of tourists and guided tours it didn't seem to make a lot of sense. The Castle is an attraction that can be seen from wherever you are staying in Pest.

The mythical bird overlooking Pest from Buda Castle

It was back to check off some of the other 'must see' things in Buda, only to find we had inadvertently ticked those boxes. That could only mean one thing. It was Zöe time! A quick change of clothes, a few messages exchanged and we were, eventually, in a taxi bound for the Great Synagogue. Not the Good Synagogue or the OK Synagogue but the Great ... yeah, you get the idea.

You may be wondering what the Great Synagogue has to do with our arrangement to meet Zöe for lunch. Our intended meeting place was a restaurant in the Jewish Quarter and as we were going to be very early (because Buda Castle was a dud), we decided to visit the Great Synagogue prior to lunch. So we met there and paid the exorbitant entry fee ($30 AUD) to inspect the opulent inside of the building. Given the number of visitors I imagine that this one temple could fund the Jewish religion across the globe. 

Like any quality establishment, there were dress regulations. Apparently Yahweh is offended by the sight of feminine knees and shoulders. One woman tried to storm the citadel, shoulders bare for all to see and the wizened little man on the door almost had a stroke trying to prevent her ingress. That was amusing. God remains unoffended. Although the 'deluxe' cover-all supplied was see-through and god is supposed to be everywhere, all the time and see everything, so I don't get the fuss. But then it's religious thing and they all have some very strange concepts.

I am not going to try to describe the inside of the synagogue. I will let the pictures speak for themselves. Although apparently a purchased place on a pew was, in its day, extremely valuable real estate and was actually listed on the Stock Exchange. God cares about weird stuff. Or so we're told.

And then, it was a stroll to the restaurant Mazel Tov for lunch and a wonderful afternoon with the fabulous Zöe. We couldn't book because they had no remaining tables, so we joined the queue of walk-ins. Maybe 30 minutes, we were told. Yeah right. Maybe 10 minutes and they weren't fully subscribed. The food was excellent (think Ottolenghi style) and the company even better. I love a long lunch and we meandered out just shy of 4:30pm to Bolt home to finish this blog. Zöe is off on more exciting adventures and hopefully we'll get to see her at Jane Austen Book Club in Australia sometime early next year.

Mazel Tov

There is no need for dinner after such a filling lunch and processing the day's photos will see my day at an end.

Tomorrow we are, amongst other things, doing a Food and Wine walking tour around the Great Market Hall in Pest.

Oh, I almost forgot, today's title, The Bridge by Elton John (2006). It relates to the bridges real and imagined between Buda and Pest and the insular peninsulas in Sydney.

Until then.

Imagine (Mollymook not Budapest)

Disclaimer: I apologise for the lack of symmetry in the photos. I am struggling with the new shit blogger format that has forced on me.

Another perfect day in paradise. Again, I woke early enough for a bike ride but stayed in bed. This is most unlike me, but the room is just so cold it's easier to roll over. The bed room is in the back of the house and gets very little actual sunshine. I actually believe it would be warmer outside. And that, dear reader, is probably the only drawback of our accommodation. If lounging in bed rather than exercising can be considered a draw back.

The wind that arrived yesterday is still with us, but it removed the cloud to once again reveal a placid blue ocean and a picture perfect view from the verandah. There is not a lot on the agenda today, but I'm sure it will take the whole day to complete it.

As has become the routine, we lingered over breakfast. Nothing flash just tea and toast, as they say in the classics. Eventually, we roused ourselves to walk the beach to the Golf Club. The tide wasn't kind to us and hadn't retreated very far, leaving us restricted to sloping soft sand, struggling into a brisk westerly (Jayne, not so much Brad). After a brief respite at the southern end of the beach, I suggested we should walk back via the path. Jayne was most appreciative of the easier route home.

Today is St Stephen's Day, a public holiday in Budapest, where the Basilica of St Stephen is a major attraction. That got me thinking about similarities ... Similarity #5 Places of Worship. Budapest has the Basilica of St Stephen and the Great Synagogue. In my wandering over the Mollymook area I have not seen any churches, so, to Google I went.  Typing in "Places of worship Mollymook" resulted in one result. Mollymook Golf Club. No dear reader, I kid you not, nor will not enter into the obvious debate, I completely recognise that golfers view their game as a religion. Given I'm not sure religion has done a whole lot for humanity, where does that leave golf?

A quick rinsing of sand from our feet and a change of clothes and it was time to explore Cupitt Estate. They are a winery, restaurant and fromargerie. What a trifecta. The food was heavenly. Pictures below. Yes, dear reader I did remember. Well, Jayne remembered, but I took the photos.

Cupitt is a little out of Mollymook on a west facing hillside with stunning views of the mountains. The Castle and Pigeon House Mountain watched as we enjoyed the fare. The food was accompanied by a carafé of their own Fiano. A most excellent wine, spice and honey with a long finish. The wait staff were all lovely and the restaurant would have been close to capacity, but service was not impeded. It would be the perfect place to have a long, lazy lunch. Provided you weren't driving.

Similarity #6: Wine. According to Lonely Planet, Hungarian wine dates back to Roman times. I hope it has been stored well. Similarly, Mollymook (OK Ulladulla) has Cupitt's Estate Winery dating way back to 2007, not quite the Roman Era. It was, briefly, a happier time, the first Rudd Era.

Post lunch, we adjourned to the cellar to taste some more wine. This was somewhat a relief because there was a larger party in the restaurant who were obviously imbibing their way through the current pandemic and two of the party dominated the entire room; he with his loud guffaws and she with her high pitched cackle. It was a pity they found so much to laugh about. Some patrons actually requested a move to another area.

A quick trip into Ulladulla for supplies saw us home, sitting, staring at the big blue pond and reading our books. Unlike our regular holidays, this is about relaxing.

As the sun sets behind us ...

Well, dear reader, you've made it to the end of this post and I'm sure you're wondering about the title. Yeah, me too. It's a favourite song of mine and it'll have you humming all day. If it doesn't, you're too young and need to talk to your parents. Budapest could never imagine it, but Mollymook, without a church certainly could imagine John Lennon's world. As an aside, no, I'm still not over his death.

Imagine there's no heaven ...