On a Clear Day (Hamburg, Germany, part 2)

The dry day promised, dear reader, did not eventuate. The new forecast was for rain. All day. Not heavy, but enough to be annoying. Had we been at home we would not have ventured out. We are not at home and who knows if we'll pass this way again. It was a case of dress for the conditions. My waterproof snow jacket has been vacuumed sealed and packed since we left Norway but I did not succumb to resurrecting it, even though it is Easter. It is wet but not really cold, so a cap and and umbrella would suffice for me. Jayne has been living in her snow jacket. No change required.

Flowers were doing their bit in the rain.

It is Easter Monday and Jayne noticed a change in the time difference between Europe and Australia. We didn't understand what had happened, nor could we explain it. Perhaps daylight saving had ended back home. A quick check with someone on WhatsApp proved otherwise. The next message was a screenshot of daylight saving in Copenhagen where we had just been, but it applied to most of Western Europe. Daylight saving had commenced here! We didn't know, although I did feel a bit more tired on Sunday morning. Fortunately we had nothing booked but, with computerised phones and watches, they all switched over automatically and secretly stolen one hour of my sleep.

Kunsthalle. Another view destroyed.

Suitably embarrassed, we dressed appropriately for the weather and set out on our self-guided tour of Álstadt (old town). First stop today was the Kunsthalle Art Gallery. We sheltered under a portico of a building on the opposite side of the road. It was closed, it's Monday, but there seemed to be a lot of people walking around the building and the lights were on. Despite this we stayed where we were, neither of us felt like a gallery viewing  but the exterior of the original portion of the building was worth seeing.

There were six lanes of main road separating us from the Kunsthalle and the incessant rain and wet surface did little to slow down the traffic. They drive fast over here. Unnecessarily so.

Nothing but ducks.

A little further along was Alster Lake. We continued our walk down one side and along the other. There was no sight of people with sailing boats today. Even the canal cruises were few and far between. It was great weather for ducks and they seemed to be enjoying it. The dreary day was brightened by a host of golden daffodils, planted the entire length of one bank. 

Wordsworth would approve.

Three sides of the lake were surrounded by high-end boutiques, designer brand stores and hotels. The other was a divider between the small and large lake. It was where the train services and vehicle traffic crossed the water. As the rain lightened a little, we encountered more people but it was deathly quiet for a major tourist area.

Alster Arcade. Hamburg, not Venice.

Not far from the lake is the Alster Arcade. It is a series of shops, mostly cafés, with a walkway that fronts onto one of the canals. The walkway itself is covered and a series of white arches frame the view of the canal and the Rathaus (townhall) with its markt. The tourist books and websites talk it up but it could do with a coat of paint. It looks a little jaded and faded.

Hammonia, the city's patron goddess sits over the entrance.

Past the shops where we can't afford to buy anything and not just because of the exchange rate, we ended up in the Rathaus Markt square. The rain had eased again and we decided to head inside the Rathaus. The foyer area is interesting in itself and we would have joined a tour but there were none in English. We contented ourselves with what was available. 

You can tell he's important by the pose.

The 16 columns in the foyer have the faces of important Hamburg residents carved into them. I didn't check every pillar but I'm a betting man and I bet there was not one woman among them. Above the windows to the courtyard were depictions of Roman gods in stained glass. In the courtyard itself was a large fountain adorned by statues, but we weren't permitted into that area.

All rather grand.

The Rathaus is still in use and there were certain areas locked off by black iron gates. All rather striking against the red carpets, marble and gold decorations.

The Roman god Mars, a scorpio of course.

We were around half way through our Alstradt tour. It was time for coffee somewhere near our next stop, but indoors and not crowded. St Peter's church was close by and we had passed the other side of it on our way to the Kunsthalle. Fortunately there was a coffee shop on the way. It was time for a break. Jayne's coat was getting heavy with water from the persistent rain.

A water fountain in the Rathaus foyer.

The coffee was good and it was nice to sit down. The guy running the place was absolutely lovely. Sometime in an earlier blog I talked about service or the lack of genuine service. This was the opposite. He was friendly and offered for us to move to a window seat which we attempted and gave up because of our wet clothes. Unconcerned, he was happy for us to make a mess of his café. This is probably the most attentive café/shop worker we've come across on this trip. It doesn't take much. Most of the time I feel as if I'm inconveniencing the shop assistants.

Impressive. They know how to build big.

It was a few minutes to St Peter's. Another impressive spire. Hamburg has thing about spires poking up through the clouds. I wonder what Freud would make of that. We went inside the church after photographing the brass door knockers made in 1342. Inside was pretty well what you would expect, rows of pews and spectacular stained glass windows behind the altar. There were some paintings of significance on the walls, but they were typically the dark hues of their genre and were difficult to shoot in the dark interior. The most interesting feature was a homeless man sheltering from the cold and rain.

The simple altar contrasts with the windows.

You keep knocking but ...

Next stop on our itinerary was Chilehaus. It is so named because it was originally a warehouse for spices and chili. It is a landmark building because of its shape. It comes to a point, much like the Flatiron building in New York, and resembles the prow of a ship. The balconies replete with balustrades, resemble the decks on a cruise liner. I'm sure it looks more impressive on a sunny day.

Come on, you can see it.

Around the corner was the Chocoversum. I'm not sure that translates into English, but it's like a chocolate factory that does tours explaining the process, blah blah blah. At some point you get to create your own chocolate bar. Really? What is the point? Perfection was reached when the Cherry Ripe was created and heaven attained when Cadbury bought MacRobertsons so the Flake and Cherry Ripe lived under one roof. So, at €21 per person, to spend the day with a bunch of uncontrolled ankle biters, the answer was no. €42 buys a lot of anything, let alone chocolate.

They did have chocolate Harry Potter wands on sale. I may have purchased one for my favourite child who will be identified because they respond to this part of the post. Imagine crunching that straight from the fridge? Accio!

Only €10 or $16.40 AUD. Bargain.

Moving on, we went in search of St Nikolai, a remnant church. That's probably an overstatement. It is a steeple and some crumbling walls, although the crypt also survives. This all that remains of the landmark that was once used for navigation purposes during World War II. It stood out amid all of surrounding Hamburg and guided the allied bombers to their target. 

The spire of St Nikolai which can be accessed by elevator is 147m tall. Thankfully the lift only goes about half way. I'm sure the view would be spectacular on a clear day, but, yeah, you know. Hence the title today, On a Clear Day. There were many options for this song but I chose one of the best to share with you. Click on the link and enjoy.

The spire of St Nikolai still stands.

Up to the viewing platform, pictures taken, it's time to go back down. Then Jayne noticed this guy who was looking extremely uncomfortable. His partner was enjoying the view and his unease and filmed him. He never moved far from the elevator and constantly pushed the button trying to summon his chariot of rescue. We joined in his journey to the ground and safety. During our descent, Jayne asked him if he was ok, given the lack of empathy his partner was exhibiting. "No, I am not. I am terrified of heights," which made his partner laugh even more.

Back on the ground the conversation continued during which we found out that they are Albanians who have moved to Hamburg to work in the medical system. Our acrophobic new friend spoke longingly about Albania, saying that he did not feel comfortable in Germany because he finds the people too cold. He was certainly keen to talk to us after we made the initial inquiry. Anyway, we were swapping travel tales about how great we had found Sweden and Scandinavia in general, when another passerby injected herself into the conversation to tell us she is Swedish and had come to Germany to enjoy the spring weather! Gross misjudgement, in our view, given the persistence of the precipitation since we have arrived. 

The Rathaus from the viewing platform of St Nikolai.

Anyway pleasantries exchanged, suggestions were made by us to try out our warmer, drier climate, to which they all agreed, "It would be lovely but it is too far to go and don't you have poisonous spiders and snakes everywhere?" Except the Albanian, "I don't fly. I even drive home to Albania". After this, we all went separate ways as we descended into the crypt, to view an exhibition on the WWII events that led to the destruction of St Nikolai and in fact, most of Hamburg. 

The crypt is an exhibition of wartime photographs, eye witness accounts and a graphic video presentation that documents Operation Gomorrah, the Allied forces bombing of Hamburg in 1943 in which 60% of the city was destroyed and over 200,000 people were killed or wounded during the firestorm. The attack was partly in response to the German attack on Coventry. 

The exhibition was extremely poignant and the scale of destruction depicted was mind boggling. We both commented on how similar we found the understated tone of the presentation was, to what we experienced in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial. This was in stark contrast to the Ground Zero exhibition in New York. 

After that sobering exhibition we returned to ground level and the drizzle and plotted a course for home.

Thank you for staying with me until the end, dear reader. It was a big day. We covered over 10 km on foot in the rain and weren't uncomfortable. Good clothing choices.

Until next time.

What is Life (Hamburg, Germany, part 1)

And a happy Easter Sunday to you, dear reader. Yes, our days are not aligned.

The apartment is lovely. It is one bedroom with separate living area, kitchen and bathroom and has views over the Elbe River. It is comfortable, well appointed and it feels like home. Hafencity is an area of Hamburg that is still undergoing redevelopment. It is part of the port area that is being turned into a community. There are walks along the river and canal, parks, museums, galleries, restaurants, shops and the Elphi. It's the sort of thing we could have done in Sydney if the $ wasn't the prime motivation for doing everything. They are building a community, not just apartments to sell off to those who can afford them.

The canal over from us looking back to the Elphi.

The weather hasn't improved a lot, dear reader. It is still grey and drizzly. The air quality is like Sydney post the fire works. One of our hosts has told us the smoke and haze is due to bonfires, a German tradition over the Easter break.

Love the old architecture.

We sat in our picture window on the first floor and watched our host, Chrissy distribute Easter eggs liberally throughout the park area below. It is Easter Sunday and the hunting ground was being prepared. The children were soon there running and squealing, searching for the bounty. We chatted briefly with Chrissy and Stefan before we set out into the unknown, our first full day in Hamburg. There was no guarantee of what would be open on a public holiday. Although we did find a place that served coffee within a couple of hundred metres of the apartment.

Spring is trying to break through.

Since the whole day's plan was a hypothetical, we decided to see if the tourist information centre was open. The location is not far from our apartment but, on approach, it seemed just as we had expected - the building was all in dark. We went to the notice on the door to try to translate the opening hours over the Easter weekend.

While we were busily Googling, the door suddenly opened a young lady, a tourist officer, came out to see if we needed assistance. We expressed our surprise at the place being open on Easter Sunday but she simply said it was normal hours today but would be closed tomorrow, as it is every Monday.

A model of Hafencity focused on our area.

She provided us with a walking map of our Hafencity/Speicherstadt zone and also suggested we join a free guided tour of the area at 3pm. As a new employee, she would also be joining the tour to learn the ropes from an experienced guide. The only catch was the tour was in German, not English.

The tour would not include the Elphi so we decided to visit this local landmark ourselves while we waited for the tour to begin. The Elphi is the shortened version of Elbphilharmonie, a concert hall that has been developed utilising an old warehouse as its base. It rises above the warehouse, resembling a sail or the waves on the Elbe River. It has three concert venues, the Westin Hotel and some luxury apartments.

Looking down our street to the Elphie.

The glass panels of the exterior of the building reflect the surroundings. It looks different depending on what time of day it is and this is obviously influenced by the sun, or in our case, lack thereof. I'm not sure a drab, grey day is showing her in her best light.

Looking from the Elphie down our street.

Entry to observation deck is free, although you need a ticket to scan, and it is accessed by an 82 metre curved escalator, the longest in Europe. Allegedly this is like a golden staircase. Maybe the gold lights were overshadowed by the cloud the day we were there. Despite the inclement weather, the crowd never dissipated and there was a constant stream up the escalator and through the foyer and out around the observation deck. Again the view would have been so much more impressive had the sun deigned to shine.

It's a long way to the top.

Regardless, we walked the viewing deck and took photos from all major compass points before descending to reality. We walked the few minutes back home to wait for the walking tour to commence. It was a 10 minute walk in the other direction.

A city of church spires.

We met Kendra, the tourism officer and walked down to where the tour was to commence. The guide was clearly not thrilled that he would have two people on the tour who could not speak German and made it clear our time would be better spent elsewhere. So we took ourselves off to wander the streets, checking out the juxtaposition of the massive old port warehouses with the modern apartment precinct that is being created as a sustainable community. 

The tourist brochures describe the area as a work in progress, yet to develop its own soul or the  character of the old city. There is construction a plenty, all incorporating open spaces and facilities to sustain the development of the community. The Tourist Office in fact provides a video presentation on this veery topic to highlight the ethos and strategy that are steering the creation of this newest part of Hamburg; its future, as they term it.

Canals are the lifeblood of Hamburg.

Despite it being outside the peak season, or perhaps because of it, we have not been able to book a guided tour. Our experience of Germany thus far, compared to Scandinavia, is that there is far less accommodation for English speakers. We have never been travellers who just assume that every other country should automatically provide all communication, written and oral, in English. But we have found it much harder to get by here than in any of the Nordic countries we have visited on this trip.

In preparation for our Easter Monday excursion to the old town, Aldstadt, we went back to the Tourist Centre to procure a map of the broader city to plan what sights we would seek out, supported by a walking tour app we had downloaded. On the way, we also located an ATM to obtain some Euros as, curiously, Germany for some reason loves cash over cards. Again a stark contrast to Scandinavia. More often than not, we have been able to use a credit card here but we have been told to check and not assume businesses have card readers.

Street art "walls can dance".

The area is clearly a work-in-progress. There are road closures, building sites, a Westfield under construction, but it still has a community feel. There is street art where you would least expect it and bridges criss cross the canal like a bizarre game of cat's cradle. 

The tide is out.

Rainfall became heavier as the day wore on and eventually drove us inside to the warmth of the apartment to plan our next day's attack. Originally Easter Monday was supposed to be dry, but the forecast has changed again, it's like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates, "You never know what you're going to get." I'll know what the weather is when I look out of the window tomorrow morning.

Oh well, our new motto will apply regardless: There is no bad weather, just bad clothing. We will dress accordingly, whatever the view from the window.

What is Life is a rather esoteric title, the reason dear reader is that nothing came instantly to mind. When the universe gives you nothing return to what you love. In this case it's George Harrison (the splitter) post Beatles with a great song from 1970. Enjoy. I do everytime I hear it.

Until next time.

Passenger (Copenhagen, Denmark to Hamburg, Germany)

Today, dear reader, we set out for Hamburg. The route we mapped to Copenhagen Central proved a winner, although it was Easter Saturday and early by some standards (Jayne's). Still, we made the station, alive with bags intact, with 20 minutes to spare. Warning. This entire post (almost the entire post) covers the train trip. The photos are totally unrelated to the text. They have been included because I like them. Oh, come on, it's my blog.

As a result of the blog being almost totally about train travel, Passenger, by Powderfinger, one of Australia's best ever bands, is the title.

There were still necessities to purchase for the trip, like chocolate, I mean water. Water first. This needed to be a careful choice because last time I accidentally purchased sparkling mineral water and the bottle, when opened, well, you know, excitement for everyone else except the person holding the bottle. 

What? It's spring. I'm building a nest.

Down the escalator to platform 5, as designated by our German tickets. Track numbers are now platforms. We look at the indicator to see where our carriage is situated and there is a red line and an explanatory note saying "Do not board here". Sometimes I wonder why life can't be simple and work the way it is supposed to. Our ticket says carriage 9. Where carriage 9 should be pictured, the screen says, "Do not board here".

When the going gets tough, as the expression goes, the tough get going. So I did. Back up the escalator to the convenience store to buy chocolate. I mean water. And see if someone can explain the apparent contradiction between our tickets and the sign.

Competitive churching: I have golden domes, but the real Dome casts a shadow.

Have you been to Copenhagen central, dear reader? It is large, cavernous even, and there was no information or help desk I could see. The stores closest to platform 5 all had long queues so I went further afield and found  a 7-11, yes they are everywhere, with lesser patronage. Chocolate sorted, well it was an easier purchase than water, I located water, changed my mind and opted for another brand. Safety first.

With 10 minutes before the train is due to depart, everything is fine, except whether our carriage exists. Maybe it's like track 9 at Stockholm? As I reach the escalator, I'm looking for Harry Potter. Instead I see our train. Panic stations. Warning Will Robinson! Danger! Danger! The previously crowded platform is emptying quickly. I know the train won't leave, it's not scheduled to, yet. But my fear is finding a storage place for our large suitcase. We are, big breaths, travelling second class! The horror.

I have no idea. Divers quarters?

Jayne is waiting for me. That's a relief. You can never really be sure, can you? It's like that Tim Winton novel, sorry, I digress.

Carriage 9 is down there, she points towards the front of the train and we begin wheeling the bags to where one of the DB (Deutsche Bahn) employees is directing people onto the mythical carriage 9. Up the steps I lug the big bag to find the lower compartment of the luggage rack occupied by small bags and backpacks that could be stowed above the seats. Typical. I shoulder the 23kg suitcase and stow it on the second shelf. Our smaller bags go above our seats and we settle in, listening to the whining children a few rows in front. It's only 4 hours and 40 minutes to Hamburg ...

Everything seems fine. The bags are stowed, we are settled, I have chocolate, I mean water (hydration is important) and the children aren't too loud. The DB fast train feels fast. Finally, a train on time. Trust the Germans.

So we have yellow ducks; in Denmark they have purple.

I'm not sure where things started to fray, dear reader. Perhaps with my, ultra careful, opening of my water to discover it was, once again, sparkling mineral water as it sprayed all over my hand and the table. Seriously. What is wrong with these people? Why can't they drink plain bloody water? They have 70 flavours of sparkling rubbish and I choose the only bottle that states "100% original" and it is still sparkling bloody mineral water. That bit was in fine print on the side of the bottle, in German. Thankfully I had a Kit Kat to cheer me up.

Then the announcements and unscheduled stops began. From, "We are 1 minute late," to "The train in front has a medical emergency, we will now be 10-15 minutes late." The next announcement pronounced that our lack of progress against our lateness was due to a signal failure, maybe 20-30 minutes.

Daffodils were everywhere. Potted. The ground was too cold.

During each stop, the air conditioning stopped functioning. The noise of the train decreased in commensurate proportions to the increase in squawking of the children and the propensity to notice those people too ignorant to purchase headphones for their iPads/computers.

Twenty minutes from Hamburg they announced we were back on time. That saw movement throughout the entire carriage. People started donning their coats, shouldering their backpacks and tying their children down. "It must be a long lead in to the station," I remarked.

 Rosenborg castle grounds.

As we crawled to a slow stop, the station in sight, the next announcement came: "Sorry, we do not have a platform at the station." OK, I get the issue with planes and slots at airports, but trains? We are on a track. Anyway, we sat and waited and finally made Hamburg station 20 minutes late. So much for German scheduling.

From the station it was the usual trauma. Which exit do we take? Which way do we go? That was after battling up the stairs because the escalator was not working. The down escalator worked fine. Wouldn't you swap it over?

Dans means dance.

Up the stairs, out into the world of daylight and warmth. It was 20°. We haven't experienced temperatures like this since we left Australia. To ensure there were no mistakes this time, I programmed the address into Apple maps and Google. And the winner was ... us. It was a fairly straightforward route from the station to our accommodation, with precious few cobblestones.

Despite my sensible clothing, no thermals, I was still sweating when we reached our destination. It is a beautiful one bedroom apartment in Hafencity with views of the Elbe River. Chrissy, our host was on hand to show us through the apartment and answer any questions. And also to remind us that the next two days are public holidays and if we wanted to shop, it needed to be today.

Seagull, I guess.

Once we were established in the apartment, we walked the few minutes to a choice of stores. Food and wine purchased, we returned to the apartment to stow the food and go wandering. There is a Vietnamese restaurant in the building, dinner is sorted.

What happens if you come home during changing of the guard? You wait.

Transit days are always stressful and eventful. This one was no different. A good Vietnamese meal and a couple of Saigon beers relaxed us. The welcome pack of Kinder Surprise chocolates and a couple of Hamburg specialty ales when we returned home didn't hurt either.

Until next time.

Part of Your World (Copenhagen, Denmark, part 3)

The day commenced as they tend to do in Denmark, with beautiful sunshine. Sadly, dear reader, it is often short lived. Today the drizzle was forecast from around 3pm. Our day kicked off at Buka, of course, for pastries and coffee and to purchase a baguette. It would be another 'French' dinner tonight to exhaust our supplies prior to our next transit day.

Our café was already out of baguette so we walked the 200 metres towards the Square to the other store to make our purchase there.

Today we decided upon a canal cruise so, after depositing our baguette back home, we grabbed the camera and the bags containing the lenses. The cruise promised many photo opportunities. We left home at 10:30am to arrive at 10:45 for an 11am cruise, as is recommended in the company information.

Below is my Tripadvisor review.

Stromma Canal Cruise

This canal cruise promised so much and delivered so little. The only accurate part of the 'sightseeing' description was we were in a boat on the canal and it lasted for an hour. Oh, yes, and there was an English speaking guide. Did that really matter when you couldn't see what he was speaking about?

A quick snap before anyone stood up.

Unless you were fortunate enough to get a seat on the side, or outside, you saw very little apart from other passengers. Most seats were taken when we arrived at 10:45 for the 11am cruise. Soon after we left the dock, passengers were invited to stand up, thereby obscuring any view those seated closest to aisle might have hoped to have.

The windmill in the Kastellet area.

As for seeing anything through the roof. The perspex had ceased to be transparent long, long ago. This appears to be purely a money making venture and you will see far more on foot creating your own personalised tour. It will also be more enjoyable. We walked to the Little Mermaid once we were off the boat. A much more pleasurable experience and we saw so much more of Copenhagen.

A garbage incinerator that doubles as a ski slope.

Don't waste your money.

I was just reviewing the blog and noticed the nice white outline for the cut and paste of the above review. I'm not sure why it also includes the next two paragraphs, they were definitely not part of the review. Nor was this, but hey, computers and stuff.

What I didn't put into the review was the absolute disregard for other passengers displayed by many people on board. There were two large family groups in front of us on both sides of the boat. While they could have probably occupied two rows of seats each they placed two members of their family on the side of the boat in three rows each. Some then spread out and turned their back on the aisle to ensure no-one else could sit there

A similarly crowded boat.

The two people to my immediate left, closest to the outside, stood up as soon as we reached the harbour, not only preventing me from taking photos, but completing obscuring any view. We, on the aisle seats, were prevented from standing up by the discoloured, dirty perspex canopy.

The commentary was in Danish and English. This meant the guide raced through the pre-prepared script in both languages. I was uncertain at times as to what language the guide was speaking, let alone what he was saying.

New apartments on the water. Asking beetween $2m and $30m AUD.

Some people occupying the aisle seats gave up trying to see anything and unsurprisingly resorted to doom scrolling on their phones.

As an experience, I couldn't rate it lowly enough. I received an email from the company this morning asking me to rate my experience. That should be fun.

Marmorkirken

Following such a scintillating experience, we needed to walk off some frustration. This would require taking on the weather forecasters and the afternoon drizzle.

HCA lived in both of these houses. Not at the same time.

Back through Nyhavn past Hans Christian Andersen's many abodes, apparently he really liked the area, we turned toward the harbour and then Marmorkirken. The dome is breathtaking and dominates the skyline of Copenhagen. If you forget it exists, you can round a bend and there it is, floating above the landscape. I'm quite fascinated by it.

HCA also lived here. It's the opposite side of the canal.

To get to the dome, we had pass through the Amalienborg Slot square where the changing of the guard was once again continuing at its glacial pace. Many people had lost interest in watching two rows of tin soldiers standing staring at each other and the crowd had thinned, so I got the photo I missed out on the other day.

A serious staring competition.

Through the Square and across the street to the Marmorkirken. There was a constant stream of people moving in and out of the church. It was quite crowded inside, people sitting in quiet contemplation. Good Friday influence I imagine. It was not possible to photograph the entire dome without changing lenses and lying on the floor. Probably not appropriate behaviour. I snapped a couple of quick photos and another of a stained glass pane in the ceiling of the foyer that Jayne pointed out. 

The dome.

The ceiling in the foyer.

The Little Mermaid

Outside the church, the clouds had become heavier and the wind a little stronger. The drizzle might be arriving earlier than expected. Undeterred, we commenced the 1km walk to the much maligned statue.

Although the story is loved, as is the original Disney animated film, the good people of Denmark do not share that love. All types of heinous acts have been perpetrated upon poor Ariel. She has been graffitied and defaced. In one act of violence she was beheaded.

The "English" church.

Today she sits upon her rock, bereft of the love of her prince and of her native people. A statue that is the backdrop for innumerable selfies, a canvas for mindless morons who feel the need to document their travels by sticking their face into every photo taken. Aside from that, birds shit on her head.

A swan making good use of the castle moat.

The walk down and back passes through the Kastellet precinct. It houses the Museum of Resistance, several churches of different faiths, a castle, the launching point for the royal yacht and finally the statue of the Little Mermaid.

There was no time for deviation from our plan as the drizzle had commenced. We followed the crowd to the mermaid. It would not be easy obtaining a clear photo given the number of people clambering over the slippery rocks around her. One vacuous girl was being photographed on the beach twirling an umbrella and turning to look coquettishly at the camera. Or her girlfriend. Whatever.

Look at me when I'm speaking to you.

We paused momentarily for a change of camera lens and swapped in the 300mm lens, meaning I could shoot from a distance. Obligatory photos taken, none of which included our visages, we left the crowds clamouring for position as they muttered "just one more picture". It was said as an apology but lacked sincerity.

I'm not looking at you. A bird has shit on my face.

It was officially raining as we reached home. Excellent timing. The rain was going to hang around all day so we decided to call it quits and adjourned to our warm abode to crack a bottle of chablis and discuss the day's events. And hate on Stromma.

Ah, yes. I'd be unhappy too.

Of course the title today Part of Your World is from the 1989 Disney animated movie The Little Mermaid.

A shop window on the way home. Interesting.

And that's about it from Copenhagen.

Until next time.