Something about Mary

Day 22. Tuesday 4 June.

We’re in the general area of the EU, where you’d expect commonality. But so far not one washing machine that we’ve encountered operates in the same way (made worse by a lack of instructions). To add to the task, last night the current one didn’t want to stop – each attempt just started another never ending cycle. We now have the most washed clothes ever.

Because there were no museums open yesterday that’s where we headed today. First on the list was the Design Museum, a celebration of Danish style. They certainly do chairs well – but lots of other stuff as well. The display posed an interesting question of the balance between functionality and form. The display presented a good compromise between the two.

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Coffee, of course, and then across to visit our Mary at Amalienborg Palace, but either she wasn’t at home or was otherwise busy on Princess duties. D thought the drill of the guard needed sharpening.

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Disappointed, we lunched in the adjacent gardens where we were ‘entertained’ by a couple repeatedly filming themselves in contrived scenes.

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As we left, T recognised two friends from Canberra, Steve and Di and greeted them with, ‘I thought you were in Facebook’. D had dismissed them as just some other tourists, not registering who they were. We joined them for a coffee and a sharing of experiences: they had been in Iceland & Faroes 3 weeks ahead of us, but in a campervan (we’re jealous) as well as Helsinki and Tallin; they were flying home tonight.

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The Geological Museum was hosting an exhibition originating from the Victoria and Albert focusing on nature (sources, colours, sustainability) and design in 400 years of fashion – the basic message being the consequences of exploiting natural resources for garment and accessories production. It was fabulous and the message resonated. T doubts that cotton jeans will die out but is prepared to take another look at viscose and tencel and wonders whether the dress containing seaweed is worth the effort. However she is confident that the ‘sandshoes/sneakers with everything’ fashion is a better option than heels.

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5000 of the beatles were used in the dress!

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T asked the young woman behind the counter when they closed – 5 PM. When asked the time now, she dragged out her iPhone and responded: D then asked whether it was the same time as on the watch on her wrist (it was). She gave the sort of (smiling) ‘bugger off’ wave he’s used to.

As a finale we decided to take a bus tour – on urban transport – through and beyond the Norrebo region. This was getting out of the swish or tourist focused Copenhagen into areas where people actually lived. The difference was remarkable, not least because of the numbers of hijabs, shawarma places and gold jewellery (the Op Shops were closed!) but also because the buses became packed with ‘ordinary’ workers, rather than tourists.

Can you guess what this shop sold?

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The roads swarmed with cyclists of every different sort, mostly without helmets. Everyone (well 50% of population) cycles.

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We walked back though an old cemetery which was now a public park – the presence of the dead didn’t seem to bother couples conversing on the grass!

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Tomorrow, Oslo, a short stopover before heading into deepest, darkest (that should be lightest) Norway. The forecast is not promising.

Every relationship requires a balance, of complementarity. This is a neat summary.

2 thoughts on “Something about Mary

  1. Thanks T&D. Nice one. Too bad about seeing our Mary. Perhaps if I mention that I’m living in Tassie, it might help when I’m there. I hope you enjoy Norway. There are some lovely Commonwealth War Grave cemeteries down the West Coast. Ivor had some mates there. Love Ian

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  2. She’s probably feeling guilty by now, so you’re in with a chance. Tell her the sheep shearing joke: as a Tasmanian she’d appreciate it us much as we do.

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