Because it's not a Trip without Some Frustration!

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Goddag

I thought I’d give myself a low-key easy day out at Koge a pretty little town with old buildings, my guidebook told me, and interesting shops.  All it would take was a forty minute ride on the S tog or Suburban Train to the end of the line—or so my guidebook said.

Yeah right.

I would have enjoyed Koge more had it not been such an unexpected hassle to get there.  I got on the S Tog labeled Koge, but it only took me to Copenhagen Central Station.  There was an announcement in Danish, and everyone else got off.  Eventually I did, too, and I noticed that the train destination had changed to the opposite direction.  Bewildered, I sought out an alternative route. Adventure I said.  Oh I found one, but it mean waiting for a regular train and then a longish wait at a station to change to my destination and then a train ride the length of the original estimated (ha!) journey.

I don’t like hanging around train stations, and it was pouring by that time.  I had my umbrella, and prudently had worn my coat, so I was prepared.  So was one of my fellow waitees.  He whipped out a bottle of Carlsberg—before noon it was.  I am not capable of dealing with morning drinking—a Puritan prejudice, I’m sure.  Oh well.

Yes, Koge was a pretty town, and I liked walking around, but by that time I was trying not to be in a bad mood and I didn’t enjoy the place as much as I would have had it been easy to get to and as much as the town deserved.  The town square is the largest in Denmark and there are many charming old houses and streets, but I had been promised interesting shops, and I didn't find any.  It was too cold for ice cream (shocking, I know!) so I put myself in the mood for pastry and sought out a bakery—in vain.

Fortunately I found an easier, quicker way back.  Unfortunately the guy sitting next to me reeked of cigarette smoke.  And then a really messed up looking beggar (?) came through.  One side of his face was swollen and all purple.  One eye was swollen shut.  He reeked of beer.

So I’m glad I beat the rain home and glad I went and got some smorrebrod before I set out.  The ladies at the place I go to recognize me and appear glad when I show up and like that I appreciate their food.  Really that’s what our hosts are looking for when we visit foreign lands.  They want respect and appreciation, and most of the time Americans gladly show it.

Thanks for sharing, Pil.  But what FOOD did you get this time?

A fishy trio.  I liked the herring so I got that.  Sild, we Danes say and then a fish one, and then as a novelty some salmon garnished with teensy shrimp.  I don’t usually care for shrimp, but these were good.

Washed down with?

Cheap red Italian wine—a Rosso Veronese, which was not bad--for the salmon/shrimp and Danish beer for the rest.

Farvel.