Snooping Around Queen Margarethe's Place

Goddag

The partying on the street was particularly intense last night, and it spilled over in to the apartment above mine.  Here's the set up. One needs a key to get into the passage that leads to the courtyard and door to get in the building.  The same key unlocks the door, and one goes up a steep narrow staircase.  My place is on the first landing.  Another key opens that door.  Visitors can be buzzed in.

This morning as I was brushing my teeth after breakfast some drunks tried to get in my place.  They couldn't, of course, because I keep it locked.  No doubt they were looking for the party upstairs.  This happens in hotels, too, sometimes.  I find it best just to stay silent and let folk figure it out.  Yelling at them to go away just involves one in arguments or demands to be let in.

I went off to the Norrebro Station as usual where I was helpful to some fellow travelers.  A pleasant young couple—American by the sound of them---wanted to go to Malmo but waited in vain on the wrong platform.  I was able to enlighten them.

I was going to Fredenborg—the "Peace Castle" built by one of the Fredriks or Christians and open to the public only in July because it is the royal family's cherished country place.

Getting to Fredenborg is quite a process.  Because the E Line isn't running through Copenhagen due to construction one has to change trains.  I am a total veteran at changing trains and platforms at Ryparken.  I went back to Hillerod where I visited Fredrickborgslog, but . . . Instead of leaving the station I went to another platform to await the train to Fredensborg. This proved to be a small rural train.  People have to push the button to request the train to stop at places where there are no stations but just shelters like a bus stop.  They have to flag the train down if they want to get on.

I walked through the town to the palace.  It's in Late Baroque and Neo Classical style.  The opening hours are limited, so I began with a walk through the grounds.  The public usually has access to the park, which is an extensive area of woodland and lakes.  I saw some joggers and bikers and even a Danish cat.  I also got lost—obviously not seriously.

The only way to see the inside of the palace is to take a tour.  English ones exist, but I didn't want to wait around for one, so I joined the Danes.  The first step is to put on the blue plastic shoe coverings.  After the tour I noticed some Danes making off with them as souvenirs.  You aren't supposed to do that.

I enjoyed seeing the state rooms.  Naturally I could not understand a single syllable of the commentary, but from the reaction of the Danes, the guy wasn't all that interesting, and they found him long-winded.  We began with a long introduction to the history and layout of place.  My attention wandered and was caught by the unicorn in the corner.

You are making that up, Pil.

I'm not, but someone did.  Someone stuffed a deer, bleached its hide white and stuck a narwhal tusk in its forehead.  Then the someone gilded the creature's hooves and added a goat beard.  It was pretty convincing.

The queen and her family have the usual array of reception and banqueting rooms to show.  I liked their proportions and the green and blue color schemes.  I think the furniture was rearranged for the visitors because the set up looked over formal.

One highlight was the central loggia with the ceiling that reached up to the dome.  I counted nine kinds of marble.

After all that I got back late but in time to see very end of Tour de France.  Congratulations to Bradley Wiggins!  He is the first British winner ever.
Farvel