I should have sucked it up and gone to Egeskov Castle. Instead I opted for the Colonial Williamsburg-ish Funen Village (Den Fynske Landsby). It’s an open-air, “living” museum recreating 19th Century Odense.
Here’s the thing – I’m not really a fan of Colonial Williamsburg.
And so this village thing really wasn’t my jam. It wasn’t my jam at all. It was my anti-jam. What’s anti-jam? Probably the original fruit, as it could be considered pre-jammed, right?
I have many questions but few answers, people.
The docent did hand me an English map. And there were some English placards strewn about offering occasional “gist” translations, though not for everything. And the peasant players who eat and breathe and work the re-enactment of the villagers, they may have spoken English if I tried but I was oddly intimidated. I felt guilty not remembering even “hej” for “hello” and if I did I’m sure I would’ve butchered the pronunciation.
So I wandered about, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of farm living. I also banged my head on the door jam of the clog maker’s hut. At least I remembered the Danish word for “shit!”
In any event, pictures from an 19th century farm re-enactment:
Fun Fact!
Those pigs are superstars! I saw them on the poster outside! Celebrities! Ce-pig-rities!
Because in the 19th century we had mobile pay.
What does this mean? Got me — there was no English translation on any wall nearby.
Rustic.
I know it’s not historically accurate, but I’m glad to see a smoke detector.
This was about as close to the re-enacters as I got.
Because drinking water was so awful in the 19th century, they mainly drank beer. How they stay hydrated for running marathons I’ll never know. To be fair, in the 1920s doctors said water was the worst thing you could drink whilst running and recommended whiskey.
Floweringly rustic.
Duck, duck, Danish flag.
More ducks.
The fire shed and fire wagon.
I guess Maybe I knew this somewhere in my head, but I was fascinated to discover tobacco is of the nightshade family.
The village.
This hut has everything: the kitchen, the living room, the morgue…
Why did the two ducks cross the road? I don’t have answer for this, I’m just asking.
What is that smell you discovered?
Baby pigs!
Don’t feed the swine. I couldn’t figure out what the person was trying to feed them in this picture — I think it’s two muffins in a tray.
ANIMAL FARM! Four legs good, two legs bad!
Pigs: A Historical Perspective.
Don’t cluck with the chicken.
I posted this to instagram already with the caption, “Hey, buddy. Why the long face?”
Pump it up!
All Danish. I got nothing.
You’re right… no human being should stack firewood like this.
Ya know what’s in here?
A ghost! They had this 3-D projection of a guy threshing. All in Danish. It was an abandoned farm house and there’s a guy beating the hell out of that straw. This is my horror movie.
Farm, farm, farm.
What was I going for here when I took this photo? Ya know, I take a lot — it’s digital so you hope maybe you get one shot. And so many photos I never look at again and I never collate and clean out the unwanted anyway. So here’s a prime example of a “what the hell was I doing taking that photo?!”
A friend of mine is a great heckler; he has a sarcasting, cutting wit and I’ve been on the receiving end of it more than a few times, the wounds never quite healing. But once we were at a parade where somebody was riding a float trying to educate the crowd about something — it wasn’t this but it felt like how we should take ice bergs from the arctic and transport them to CA for fresh water. I’m pretty sure that’d work based on the movie “Brewster’s Millions.” But anyway, this friend of mine shouted at the people on the float, “We’ll learn on our own time!” That’s what I thought as I read this “hey, help out this family with their chores!”
Sand paper — this is supposed to be fun?
I hope the animated GIF works in this gallery. If not, try clicking on the picture and “embiggening” it.
I think there was a great episode of “Perfect Strangers” in which Cousin Larry writes a play entitled, “Wheat.”
This fits Johnny Appleseed’s MO. DO we know if he’s left the US?
COW!
Flowers!
Duck!
***
It dawns in me I probably haven’t posted photos of Odense proper as I walked about. It reminds me of West Chester, PA, or a cobblestone-y Main Street USA… not to be ethnocentric. But my frame of reference is decidedly American.
Signs of The Hotspots
A view from my AirBNB’s balcony.
Cobblestone streets — and that yellow building is either Hans Christian Andersen’s birthplace or where he grew up — they’re not far from each other and I never quite figured out which was which.
I thought they were kidding about that Billy from Family Circus style path outline. But no, that’s pretty accurate given all the construction and blocked pathways.
They may take our lives, but we will keep our Granny Smith apples!
Burge Anarchy. Great names here in Odense.
Cranes and construction — all over town.
More directions, more sights to see.
Classic Odense.
Selling wares on the main drag.
This bar — it’s tearing me apart!
An arch. I don’t know if it was for a large pinball re-enactment or what.
The town.
The water is pretty — there was even swimming. Too cold for this guy.
Hans Christian Andersen house.
I believe I ordered the large.
What’s Danish for “with whiz?”
Momos rank right up there with dumplings and potstickers.
Is Peter Plys Pooh’s name in Denmark?
The smokers are divided in their loyalty to overwrought fantasy epics.
The streets on a sunny day.
A really sunny day.
Seriously, is that not a great name for a winebar? Kudos!
I think this is the city hall. I forgot to look it up. Just go with it as a City Hall.
So. Much. Construction.
I think somebody said this is going to be the new hospital. But, man, it’s massive.
Hey — that’s kinda for me!
This is where googlemaps told me to cross over… except there was no way to do it.
Denied passage.
More Marathon signs.
Cobbley.
That’s the Tin Soldier. This is also a party town and I heard revelers all through last night… I’ve framed out evidence of their night ending not so well. You’re welcome.
Cobble, cobble, cobble.
An Echo of Echo!
HCA standing both tall and small.
The paper boat our tin soldier uses in the fairy tale.
That’s a lot of food… and it costs a lot too. That’s something like USD$36.
I don’t know what fairy tale this is. Catching an egg?
Me attempting to mimic.
Again, already posted to instagram but the caption is, “As they say — ‘mærkelige ting sker i cirklen K!'”
The custom walk signals right outside the HCA Museum.
Because, why not?
***
I’m doing laundry and already I think I’ve ruined 50% of my clothes as this wooden drying rack seems to be staining them with wood coloring. And I just dropped my phone trying to plug it in to charge. Also, they charge a plastic bottle deposit here on every container. You can take them to certain stores and recycle the bottles for a cash voucher to spend in the store. I wanted to claim my soda bottle back but hadn’t quite finished it yet… so I decanted into smaller glassware in the fridge. I look like a modern day vampire hoarding his lifeforce… which I guess I kinda am.
Recycling the bottle:
***
Tonight is my last real night in Europe. Tomorrow after the marathon and a shower, I walk down to the commuter bus station to grab a night bus to the Copenhagen Airport.
My flight is so early on Monday AM that the only way I could figure out how to make this work was to take the last bus I could find to the airport that’ll get me in around 12:30 am. That means I need to kill about five hours before my checkin.
This may mean yet again another day, another mistake. But you gotta give me credit – I’m consistent!
