to Paris

Well, we did clock in a bedtime yesterday before midnight. Lights out at 11:35p.m.! This repeated lateness is partly my fault: I haven't shortened my posts by much. Perhaps a 25% cut from my typical travel writings. That accounts for a bit of a delay in the evening, but not that much -- I usually am mostly done by then). And, too, there is the after dinner visit to Tivoli. Add an hour or two there. Special interruptions (the loud music Friday, the light show Saturday, the room switch Sunday, and packing Monday) are to blame for the rest. I'm really hoping that in Paris we will move up our bedtime. Before we get messed up again as we return to Reykjavik!

I am up before her. Last minute packing, tidying up the room. And Snowdrop is quick in the mornings: school for her started at 7:40. She is used to rushing. By 8:15 we are at breakfast. For our usuals.

(Snowdrop tells me this is her ideal breakfast. All that's missing is the fake bacon that she loves so much back home.) 

(Honestly, I feel equally happy with mine: pastry, yogurt, fruit. The sacred trilogy. Plus milky coffee of course.)

 

 

(so long, Tivoli)

One last check of the room and unfortunately, a good bye to the black cat...

And we are off to the airport. 

Time to think about the trip. The first thought I always have in leaving a place is whether I will come back. That's an older person's thought! At first, I kept some spare Danish cash -- always handy to have when you arrive in a foreign place. But in the end I spend it down to almost the last Danish Krone. I know Snowdrop is dying to come back. Her dream vacation would be en famille, to all the Nordic countries. She tells me she would be in charge of planning out Denmark. She would include a few days at the sea, a few in Copenhagen, which for her is Tivoli writ large. The hotel cannot be the Nimb -- that's a once in a lifetime splurge. But it has to be close to the Gardens! 

I take her fantasizing as a compliment. Trips with me were always meant to be a springboard to a future of travel and excitement over finding yourself in a new place.  When I am alone, I tend to return these days to places I love. With Snowdrop, I always want her to see something new . Her love of Denmark, triggered to be sure by the Tivoli Gardens, comes with a promise to herself that she will be back. This makes me happy! [She does also have a love of France -- I'm to blame for that of course. For the first time on this trip she comes just a little prepared. She has been doing a French language app every morning for months now. She wants to be fluent in the language. I'm glad of that as well!]

 

A short flight to Paris, a commuter train ride into town (cheaper, faster, better), and we alight in a city that is very, very warm. (Well, we already knew that: the train was without air conditioning and the windows were closed. The French are used to heat and I have to say, I prefer it to the bone chilling air conditioned spaces back home.) Today's high is 89F (or 32C). I suppose we are lucky: all sunshine and no rain. And, too, it will be even warmer by the weekend. We wont be in Paris by then. We'll be dripping in a bunch of very wet and cold days in Iceland.

Alighting from the underground station at Luxembourg is always makes me smile. We are in Paris. Right by the Luxembourg Gardens. How good is that!

And the walk to our hotel is downhill, which is great on the arrival and a little less great on the departure (uphill then!).

 

 

 

We're staying at the Baume. In my favorite room. Talk about a happy place -- this one is mine!

The staff here is so very wonderful and the room is always perfect and comfortable and spotless. With three large windows looking out on a quiet street. Snowdrop got a little gift from them -- a cosmetics case with some French products -- lip balm, cream, that sort of thing. She was thrilled!

Wait, we haven't eaten lunch and it's 4 p.m.! She claimed not to be hungry on the plane. Hmmm... Snowdrop, how would you like a nice ice cream cone, right now? Okay! And maybe cotton candy in the park? No protest there.

 

(hers) 

 

 

(mine)

 

I have an agenda for tomorrow and an open mindset for the next day. This afternoon, we go to the Gardens. It's hot, but less so in the shade. And what fragrances! If you walk under the canopy of the linden trees, you are overwhelmed by the sweet, delicate scent of their blooms. For once they outperform the lovely chestnuts.

 

She very much wants to go to the large playground in the park. And the merry-go-round -- a bit sheepishly since she feels too old for it, even as it makes her happy. And the swings. It's funny to see her doing these small amusements after having done such big ones at Tivoli. But I do think that she misses her friends in these more playful venues. She wont say so and insists that being my traveling companion is the best, but there are places where grandmothers are no substitute for kids her age.

(I wait for her at the side, along with other parents, grandparents, nannies. She climbs and slides and zips on her own.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

We eat dinner at Les Editeurs. That's on the girl as well. I had booked a table at a favorite pizza place, thinking surely that she'd want a break from seafood, but no. She asked what was on the menu in "that red place,"(it has red leather-ish seats)  and when I mentioned sea bass, she said -- let's go there. Fine with me!

 

And now it is evening. Sunset here is just shy of 10, so it is still light when we start thinking about bedtime. No excuses tonight! Let's try for sleep before 11. Or thereabouts.

with so much love... 

 

fish, rides and Sweden

Not long ago, I told Snowdrop that a remarkable bridge had been constructed, linking Denmark with Sweden. Nearly five miles long, the Øresund Bridge crosses the channel that links the Baltic Sea and the North Sea. Since the year 2000 you could get from Copenhagen to Sweden by train, within minutes. Right away, she asked -- could we go? I like it when she has preferences and requests. On this trip, she had them for Denmark, Paris and Iceland. I tried to fulfill all of them,  so that she'd have a hand in the planning. So I said sure.

We slept late this morning. (I woke at five, took a look at a new room highlight -- we scored a real upgrade because of the problems with the old room -- and went back to sleep.)

 

You can't be surprised at the late wake-up. We've had three days in a row of a post-midnight bedtime! Still, we are speedy in the morning. By 9:30 we are eating breakfast. No pretense on my part: I'm just going for the Danish pastries. Today's -- with poppy seeds. And yogurt and fruit. She stays with the pancake and croissant. What can I say, we like our choices! 

(I show her an email with the announced cast for this summer's Young Shakespeare Players production: she is thrilled with her part of Hermia from Midsummer Nights Dream)

 

(in the elevator: she is a child, not too old to act goofy)

 

 

We signed up for something this morning: the hotel staff told us that they can arrange for guests to go behind the scenes at the aquarium and participate in a fish feeding. No cost! Can we do it? -- I ask. I'm afraid it's too late to sign up. (Then, after problems arose with our room: ) Actually, we managed to get permission for you to do it this Monday morning. 

At 10:30, we are at the Aquarium. We're there for close to 30 minutes and the person who works there is wonderful. He teaches us about the different fish, their gender changes (the clown fish is always born male, but the stronger ones change to female in adulthood!), their eating and hiding habits.

Would you like to feed the big ones now? -- the Aquarium fish-keeper asks.

Snowdrop initially hangs back. Perhaps the idea of handling chopped raw seafood is off-putting.  But within seconds, once she sees that you wear gloves, and you can throw food if you don't want to stick your hand in the water until they bite, she is on board! Again and again.

Both of us loved this little lesson in aquatic life.

We still manage to be at her ride of choice for this morning just before Tivoli opens to the public, though honestly, on a Monday morning, it hardly matters: it's not crowded at all. At least not in mid June. (Schools close for the summer in Copenhagen on June 30th and reopen in mid-Agust.) 

Snowdrop gave herself the goal of trying one scary new ride each day -- first thing in the morning. This morning she wanted to do this one:

It's tall! You can see this Tivoli tower from afar. You see the way it works. The circle of spinners goes up, spinning rapidly of course, all the way to the top, where it stays for a while before coming down. 

 (she's waiting, just a little apprehensively...)

 

But at the moment of opening, the ride operators announce that the winds are too fierce today. It is, in fact, a cool and blustery day. And so it's a no go. Is she disappointed? Not at all. She tried, it didn't work out. She's fine with that. She spends the rest of the morning going between her favorites. And winning a silly bouncy ball at the duckie fishing pond.

(in her new shoes that are not too tight!)

(on this one, she has to climb to the top pulling herself up with the rope; it's not a popular ride -- you have to work!)

 

Satisfied and satiated (for now), we go back to the hotel and study the train schedules. The trains are relatively frequent. The Copenhagen Central Station is just across the street for us. We figure out the ticketing machines and pick up the 1:30. 

One reason why I like this adventure is that it does allow Snowdrop to figure out how to manage the transportation system here. She is the one working the machines to get tickets, picking out the right train and platform, getting us to it on time. This lesson in managing in a country where you do not speak the language is valuable, I think.

(on the bridge now...)

 

We get off at Malmo. This is Sweden's third largest city (after Stockholm and Gothenburg) and I can tell you right now we aim to see very little of it. It may or may not be interesting from a visitor perspective. I don't try to find out. We haven't the time, and I find little value in exploring big cities in an hour or two. What we do want is a lunch here and our hotel desk person, who himself is from Malmo, directed us to the Malmo Saluhall. 

(walking to the Saluhall)

 

It's a food court with very good, freshly prepared foods. 

 

 

It's not crowded and we quickly decide on our selections (which we take outside): I opt for herring with bread, followed by coffee and a cardamon roll. I'm trying to be Scandinavian! She without hesitation orders fish and chips.

(Gaga! The fish is haddock!) 

(herring)

 

 

(haddock)

 

 (cardamon buns)

 

 

(Walking back to the station)

 

 

 

 We run to make the 15:20 back to Copenhagen -- a 41 minute ride.

(from the station to our hotel, reflections...)

 

 

I do have to pack us up today as we're leaving for Paris tomorrow morning. I booked dinner again at the Nimb Brasserie, for the sheer ease of eating here. I feel (and Snowdrop would agree) that our best meal thus far was yesterday. We are so happy with it that there's no need to keep on searching for another superb dinner. And the one at the Brasserie is just fine: she asks for three oysters, followed by a dish of fish of the day (plaice) from the kids menu. She and I both like the way they prepare vegetables -- for kids and adults alike. I go with asparagus, Norwegian shrimp (tiny!), and sole. After last night's success story with Danish (nonalcoholic) wine, I try another one. Alas, it doesn't compare.

We end the day, and really our Denmark adventure with an evening walk through Tivoli. Of course.

She asks for cotton candy for dessert and more importantly -- to end her visit here with her two favorite rides. This one, coming in second:

 

 

 

(it's still very windy, but at this height, this particular ride is not affected) 

 

And hands down the first place winner -- this one, a ride that puts her in a happy place.  She must have gone on it at least twenty times!

(I could recognize those dangling shoes anywhere!)

 

Evening. Bedtime will be for sure before midnight. I hope. 

with so much love... 

 

Sunday in Copenhagen

Every day seems like a holiday moment here. Being within Tivoli Gardens, where celebrations, weddings, joyous meetups, satisfying strolls, fantastical spins twirls and leaps, and musical performances abound, you feel surrounded by happy people. Despite everything, you feel their joy. So is Sunday any more special? Does it feel like a Sunday, or just a continuation of a three day party?

Here's an observation about weekend-long hooplas: you stay up too late, eat too much, and in general indulge yourself to an excess. Not surprisingly then, Snowdrop and I turned out the lights last night after midnight and I lay there for another hour or more decompressing. Snowdrop, on the other hand, is full of youthful exuberance and she moves easily from one high point to the next. I could fill more of her hours here with festive activities and she'd keep on going.

I do feel, however, the impact of staying in a park. Even if it is the most beautiful park in the country: your visit becomes That Park. We start each day at Tivoli, return to it periodically and finish off with it. Trying to get her to focus on aspects of the city that are outside the Gardens is hard. She thinks of it as the city with Tivoli. Or maybe even that the city is Tivoli. The boat ride helped identify the topographical contours but still, here we are, on our third day, and we've not visited the market or the royal castle. The canals, the meatpacking district and then Tivoli, on repeat. That's it.

So today I give her a choice: an art museum or the Royal Castle with crown jewels. She surprises me by saying -- oh, art museum for sure! Since when did crown jewels become ho hum?  

We will concentrate on the more Nordic-Scandinavian art forms and canvases in Iceland. For now we go traditional: there is an exhibit at the Glyptotek that I think she might like. It focuses on one canvas by Degas (that may be a bust: one canvas wont hold her attention) and more importantly, I understand that this museum holds one of the best collections of canvases by Gaugin. 58 pieces of art by him! Typically much of this treasure is out on special exhibitions elsewhere, but they're bringing most back for this special retrospective. We intend to check it out.

But first, breakfast on another warm and (mostly) sunny day!

She stays with her favorites. I go rogue and abandon thoughts of "healthy" in favor of the total Danish sweet pastry.  

 

 

 

The one regret I have is that the hotel bakes their own pastries and they are very good, making a trip to the local bakeries unnecessary. I love those bakeries but can't find a time for them. They could easily be my lunch, but Snowdrop has other ideas (fish yesterday, who knows what today) and who am I to coax her into sugar over protein! So, maybe later, maybe next time. Today, I indulge in the hotel pastry once again, though I do take a second cup of milky coffee and the remnants of a cinnamon pastry along with Danish strawberries to the terrace for an inspiring moment that's as porch-like as they come. (Snowdrop stays inside. She finds little inspiration in sitting and watching me eat. I take out my laptop and chat up a local bird.)

 

 

 

 

Afterwards, we head for our early entry to Tivoli.

(yes, she meets the height requirements for this ride)

Today she wants to try the Swing Horror. Okay, it's not called that (it's the Monsoon), but it sure looks that way to me. I do not tolerate even the most babyish swings on a playground. The one at Tivoli is monstrously big and swings high enough to spin itself in a circle. Even the girl feels a bit of uneasy as she watches the giant swings and rotations.

 

 

 

I dont usually care whether she likes one ride or another, but on this one, I encourage her. I know she can do it and get some satisfaction from overcoming her hesitancy. Go for it, Snowdrop!

(she's the one to the farthest left)

(a closeup)

(After: I am so glad I did it, but I wont go again!) 

A few trips on the up and down...

Another shot at the round and round...

 

 

 

A visit to the very empty Aquarium...

... and then we search out souvenirs for those back home (and a mere hair tie-used-as-bracelet for her)...

 

 

... and a lunch for her. (Maybe I can sneak out a bakery for myself!) Snowdrop wants to use the coupon we got from the hotel for a free "Swedish pancake" -- translate that to a crepe. Hers is with chocolate. (We surely suck up all the freebies that the hotel offers!)

A walk through the gardens (that's what I love!)...

 

 

 

 

And now we are onto the afternoon list of activities. It starts with coffee for me. Can it be to go? -- she asks. Certainly not! I'll get you a pastry. Okay? Only if I like it! I do the easy thing of going to the cafe patisserie right in Tivoli (it has a branch outside as well) - Cakenhagen. And she spots a raspberry pistachio cake and she is happy. (I love my blueberry scone and I'm a tough critic on these.)

 

 

Satisfied, I'm willing to take on the most frustrating portion of this trip: shoe selection for Snowdrop. She needed warm shoes that can take a wet day for Iceland. She needed more classy shoes for a hot day in Paris. And she needed something in between for Copenhagen. I set out to find all three back in Madison. And pair after pair proved to be wrong. Too small. Uncomfortable. I would send them back and try another. Finally on the very last try, we settled on the Iceland/France shoes in adult 6. She wore her cheap plastic Target shoes anytime she could get away with it, but when one got butchered at the Minneapolis airport I put my fott (ha!) down. Switch to the others, Snowdrop.

And she tried. But though she was agreeable in Madison, here, every time she wore her new shoes, she struggled. (They're kind of tight after all! -- she'd say.) This wont do. We have so much walking before us still! I bit the bullet: we're going she shopping, I told her.

We got lucky. On the way to the probably expensive department store we passed a Sketchers. With a sale. Where she fell in love with a warm/casual pair and sandals (for Paris and thereafter). One stop shopping! And with the approval of a shoe sales clerk. No more second guessing her size. She is a 7! Meaning just a half size below ME!

Next stop -- the art museum.

(on the way -- our one encounter with Hans C. Andersen)

 

At the Glyptotek Museum there are rules. To me, the name reminds me of Kleptomania -- you know, the condition where you can't resist stealing. This is a little funny because the rules do pertain to the possibility of theft: you are allowed one bag per person. We have the shoes, we have my purse. Snowdrop takes the shoes which have strings that make it into a backpack. She slips it on. The guard wags a finger: you have to wear it in the front! She hates that. It's uncomfortable and ugly. But she complies. With misery painted all over her face.

Would you rather carry by crossbody purse? Yes please! We switch.

This works well until we get to toward the end of the visit. A guard calls her over and reprimands her: you have to wear your bag in the front, over your neck! 

Inconsistent rules frustrate her. Most people with crossbody purses carry them the proper way. Yet, she doesn't want to get into trouble. She slings it over her neck and shows no further interest in the exhibition.

I remind her that there is a whole demographic in our country that has rules inconsistently applied to them all the time. You get a taste of what that feels like in this tiny way. She says -- well that has to change! Yeah, good luck with that one.

As for the museum? First, the Degas canvas, which holds her interest for three minutes.

 

 

 

Snowdrop, why do you think he was so obsessed with ballet dancers? I don't know...

Upstairs, we find the Gaugin exhibition. Gaugin is a tough artist to explain to a ten year old. He was a guy who thought himself to be a genius and who fathered (without responsibility) many children, abandoning all of them, both in Europe and then in Polynisia along with the young girls whom he routinely and prematurely made into mothers. Moreover, there is no separation between his art and his personal life. He painted those young girls -- they were his lovers-soon-to-be mothers and muses (age 13 -15). 

And yet, his art has a stunningly broad influence over the art community. You can see his early Impressionism...

 

 

 

 (Scenes from Denmark, where he lived for a while)

 

 

Then, as a post-Impressionist, he was an important source of inspiration to Matisse and Picasso. You can see Gaugin influence in their early work. And so here we are, admiring, discussing... 

 

There is a room of Impressionism as well -- familiar Van Goghs...

 

 

And this Degas sculpture which she does love (he did several of them and one stands prominently in the d'Orsay in Paris).

 

 

This museum is so totally empty and the d'Orsay is so crowded you can barely take in the art, yet she prefers the d'Orsay. Is it the rule issue? I can hardly drag her for a roof top view.

 

 

 

She likes none of the small souvenirs. She is ready to go back for a rest in the room. 

Dinner is at the Fishmarket. It's a bit of a walk, but we're up for it. No new territory covered though. It's to the side of the commercial district just beyond the sightseeing boat dock.

(first item on the agenda -- Facetime with dad (happy father's day!), brothers, mom)

 

We both loved the food here, though the white asparagus appeared to be pickled rather than fresh. But I convinced her to try sea bass and she ranked it as her second favorite fish. And the new potatoes? She let me have only one. 

 

 

For me, there was also a fantastic discovery, albeit not one with any future in it for me: the restaurant served a bubbly rose, made I think with elderberries and pink pepper. It was so very, very good and it was nonalcoholic, so I had two! (name: Arensbak, sparkling rose) The company that developed it has expertise in natural wines, alcoholic and non, having spent some years working with the team at Noma (using kombucha cultures for fermentation). Lovely stuff.

Our dessert? I had a Pavlova with raspberries, she had her beloved creme brulee. 

 

 

 

Okay, and cotton candy at Tivoli, because yes, we did go to Tivoli afterwards, despite an evening drizzle. She wanted two more rides on the up and down. I'm sure you do not need to see another photo of the bottom of her feet. How about one of the both of us, walking home, no, sorry, to Tivoli?

 

 

I push for an earlier night. No concerts tonight, no light shows. Can we please be asleep by midnight? I'll let you know how that goes!

And here we go: I can let you know now, close to midnight, that an early bedtime could not happen. Our room developed a problem. The hotel staff were lovely, apologetic, insistent that we move, with their help. Uff! All our stuff unpacked, strewn around at the end of a long day. Snowdrop was first insistent that we stay anyway, despite the problem, but I was firm: no, we really do have to move. And we did. And she was sweet and stoic in the end. And now here we are, unpacking once again. With a smile though. It's fun to have adventures that have a good resolution at the end of the day! 

with lots of love...