Doors of Ribe

29 September 2012

Here's the thing - being on exchange completely warps your sense of time. I think it's because (to recall my one and only economics course) the opportunity cost of my time here is absolutely zero. So where back home, I would never consider travelling for 3 hours each way to visit a place for a couple of hours, in Denmark it seemed like a completely reasonable way to spend my Saturday.

Ribe (pronounced Ree-buh) is pretty much on the exact opposite side of Denmark from Copenhagen, which makes it a 3 hour train ride. However because of a slight problem with the trains (and when I say "with the trains" I mean, more specifically, us looking at the arrivals board instead of the departures board) it took quite a bit longer to reach our destination.

But it was well worth it.

Ribe is the oldest town in Denmark, with the earliest reference to its existence dating to 854AD. It is completely adorable - built along the banks of a bubbling brook (a phrase that I never truly understood until visiting Ribe) with over 100 houses on the Danish Heritage List. Continuing with the ancient theme, there is hardly a square metre of pavement to be seen - go cobble or go home.

Autumn in Denmark mostly means people putting pumpkins everywhere. 

Also haybales. 

More haybales. 

The Ribe Cathedral

Ribe pretty much exists because of this bad boy. It was, at some point, the most northerly church in Europe when Ansgar (the Archbishop of Hamburg) decided that the deviant Danes needed some Jesus-love. 

Apparently features which are good in highways are also desired in cathedrals, because one of the "notable features of the Ribe Domkirche (the fancy Danish name) is that is has 5 lanes. It wasn't set up like that when I was there, but maybe pews were narrower back in the day? The other exciting things about the Ribe Cathedral are the bells. There are 6 in total, and they place a Danish folk song ("Queen Dagmar lies in Ribe sick"for the Danish folk-song enthusiasts out there) 

We wanted to climb the tower, but the scaffolding isn't just for show and they were doing some kind of significant repairs which meant it was off limits. Tres unimpressed, so instead we were stuck wandering around inside the building. 

These are in *every* church in Denmark, and symbolise a safe journey to heaven/afterlife . 

Ribe Monastery (St Catherine's Church and Monastery)

And with any self-respecting cathedral must come a monastery. St Catherine's is built on a beautiful piece of land next to the river. And then it was rebuilt. And rebuilt. Because as it turns out, building on swamplands next to rivers is a really bad idea. But it turns out third time is the charm, and St Catherine's hasn't been flooded or sunk (yet).

There was an arts and crafts market on while we were there. 

The front two pews are always reserved for the royal family, just on the off chance that they pop in. 

Funny story. I wanted to take a photo of someone posing underneath the hedge, but when we got close enough, we discovered that literally all the bees in the world have nests in it. So a distance shot will have to do. 

The Ribe River*
*may not actually be called the Ribe River.

So Ribe is pretty much built on a flood plain, but at least it's pretty.

One of Ribe's most important history events is The Great Drowning of 1634, when a storm surge raised water levels over 6m above the banks of the river. Over 8000 men, women and horses/misc farm animals were washed away.

The waterfront in Ribe.

The flames make it go faster. 

Stormflodssøjlen - the Storm surge pole which shows the flood peak from 1634

The Doors of Ribe

No, I'm not being facetious at all. The doors of Ribe are apparently quite a drawcard for the town, if the many souvenir shops selling post cards, posters and miniature replicas can be believed. I wouldn't be surprised if they have a "Doors of Ribe" Calendar.

Danish as fuck.

The Little Things

So I am outrageously behind with my blog, and haven't written about any of my adventures because... Well, I've been too busy having adventures to write about them. But I will, I promise, catch up by the end of 2013!

I've been in Boston for a little over a week now, and it has been absolute insanity. Denmark feels about a million miles and lifetimes away already. It has really gotten me thinking to all the little things about Denmark that didn't, and probably won't, really fit in with the posts I've been writing, and I'm terrified I'm going to forget them because these tiny, seemingly insignificant things pretty much defined my first semester abroad. So...

Bathrooms

Considering how many awards the Scandinavians have managed to pull for their design, the Danes have just completely missed the point of a bathroom. In my bathroom, and a fairly significant number of other bathrooms I inspected, there was no cubicle for the shower. The only thing that keeps water from covering the entire room is the shower curtain. And it is not adequate.  

Can Openers and Miscellaneous Kitchen Appliances

I'm not sure why, but Danes seem to have a great affinity with the Amish in that they just hate all modern appliances which could make life easier. And I mostly found this to be applicable in the kitchen. 

A knife?
Nope. Danish can opener. 

No pre-made food. 
I used to think that I was a good cook. And then I discovered that I actually can't make anything without relying on at least one pre-made ingredient. Things like a tin of soup, or a sachet of seasoning, or a bottle of sauce are heavily featured in all of my cooking, and completely absent in Denmark. Does this mean that I embarked on a quest of culinary self-improvement, and learnt to make things from scratch?

No. 
No way. 

Instead I spent an indecent amount of time rummaging around in the 5 supermarkets which were within walking distance of my house looking for their token "international section" (usually tacos) and panic buying every seasoning sachet I could lay my hands on. 

ps. Pre-made food includes self-raising flour. You can't imagine the look of disdain I got when I asked a Dane why they don't have this. 

Dairy Aisle
Until Denmark, I considered the dairy aisle to be as unthreatening as can be. In fact, as it is often the home to ice-cream which is pretty much the best thing that can ever come out of a grocery store, I rated dairy aisles as one my favourite aisles.
But when you like cooking as much as I do, it is pretty hard to go 4.5months without buying milk, cream, sour cream, thickened cream and cheese. And this is when my problems begin.
Because all dairy products in Denmark come in cartons. Yoghurt, Milk and Creme Fraiche (because sour cream isn't a thing there) all come in cartons that are pretty much identical. If you do manage to navigate the packaging dilemma, you need to have an encylopaedic knowledge of the fat content of all dairy products. Milk is not full-cream, low-fat,, no fat etc etc in Denmark. It is 0.5%, 1.5% and 3.5% fat. Similarly, cream can be 27% or 37% fat. How much fat is usually in butter?
Add the fact that all labels are in Danish into the mix and you can perhaps understand that it will be a long while before I can walk through a dairy aisle without having a Vietnam-style flashback.

Door Knobs
The bane of my existence. Door knobs in Denmark are gymnastics for your hands. You have to twist and hold the lock latch, and then you have to use the door handle to open the door. Sound simple? You're wrong. It is theoretically possible to do this with one hand, if your hand is like this guy's.

Credit: http://www.colourbox.com/preview/4661472-147404-cropped-image-of-a-casual-guy-with-big-foam-hand.jpg

For for us mere mortals with stumpy fingers, opening doors in Denmark is a two handed affair. "But Lucy, you are just whinging, it can't be all that bad". 

Wrong. 

Just think about how many times a week you walk out of the house carrying something that occupies one of your hands. Now you understand.

Sophisticated Sunday

September 30, 2012.

I am always conflicted when faced with the prospect of free art galleries. 

Because I really don't get art galleries. 

But I REALLY like free stuff. 

My inner-stinge won out, which took me to one of Copenhagen's best art galleries, the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.

The Glyptotek was opened in 1897 to house the formerly private collection of Carl Jacobsen - famously of Carlsberg beer. I honestly think that Denmark was just a giant swamp until the brewers got here. You can barely walk anywhere in any city without seeing a major building which was built by the Carlsberg brand. Anywho, the Glyptotek is the home to the largest collection of Mediterranean art outside of the Mediterranean. What is more impressive is that they have somehow managed to grow a tropical courtyard garden, complete with palm trees, in the foyer.

Also fish. 

There really isn't much I can offer in terms of commentary of reflection on my experience. It was art. It was free. They had a free coffee machine on level 3, and one of the modern art pieces had a footprint on it, so make of that what you will. 

So they used to put fake noses/ears/bits on the statues when they fell off.
Eventually, they decided that this detracted from the authenticity of the artworks and took them all off. So this is the wall of former bits attached to statues.

Sneaky nip-slip

We got to the modern art section. 

I just really, really, really struggle to take art seriously when IT'S BEEN STEPPED ON AND DISPLAYED

Me.
Art and antiquities appreciator.