Art

We have been so blown away by Danish art and artists, by the quality of their work, by the fine museums that seem to be in most every small town, by the curation of both traditional and contemporary works, by the fine cafes that each museum has, by the public and private support for the arts and by its integration into everyday life. Going to museums has become one of our major activities, one that has been full of suprises and interesting, stimulating work...going into historic buildings and find they have been totally renovated to exhibit video and large installations. Or going to a lighthouse to discover that its main buildings have been converted into galleries. And looking at landscape paintings in light filled rooms where the windows give out on the same scenes.







Or the sculpture garden in Herning, created in a huge circular park whose central focus is a carved out pasture in which cows graze.

Cycling

Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere...people travelling on bikes. Bikes parked double decker outside of the train stations. And for them special bike lanes throughout the cities and towns and through the countryside. I can ride from our house in the suburbs and get to town entirely on bike lanes, usually built up from the street on curbs, but separate from sidewalks for pedestrians and separate from street lanes for buses and lanes for cars.



In some parts of the country, cars have to share the narrow roads with cyclists...but there is easy coexistence. Pedestrians and cyclists ALWAYS have the right of way...in case of an accident, the motorist is ALWAYS at fault unless there is some wildly unusual circumstance. So drivers are very careful, aware that around the corner there just might be you or me on a bike.

Lemvig

We drove up to Lemvig, a small village on one of the inland seas in Nørre Jylland or Northern Jutland. It was until recently a fishing town, but the old wooden boats have been replaced by steel hulled vessels that sail from larger ports. Tourism is slowly developing, but the summer season here is very short, just six weeks, from the first of July til the middle of August. Many of the tourists are Germans, but most are Danes.

The economy is now based on small and a few large industries. Vestes, a manufacturer of wind turbines, has had a major presence here, but recently they have had large layoffs. They are moving their plants overseas...to places like Colorado where they have opened two large facilities and hired hundreds. Outsourcing of jobs can clearly go both ways.



We sailed one morning past huge some of their huge wind turbines. Wind turbines are distributed throughout the country, not on huge "farms," as we create in the States, but often in groups of two or three. They currently get about 20% of their power from the wind and they have a "distributed generation" system...many small units creating power close to where it is consumed. These units receive government subsidies and incentives, but provide a means by which the country achieves a high level of energy independence.

Vikings

Back in Danmark, we went to the annual Vikingetræffet at the Moesgård Museum about ten kilometers south of Århus. The event is a recreation of a Viking meeting featuring a medieval market, crafts and, of course, warfare. Recreators come from the Scandinavian countries, Germany, England, the Baltic States to camp along the beach and the woods and to display Viking wares and, of course, create mayhem. The attempt to authenticate the more peaceful aspects of the Viking experience but, really, most people come to watch the battles that occur at 13:00 and 15:00 on Saturday and Sunday. Which they do with great verve and gusto.



The museum itself is just one of the hundreds of large and small excellent museums in the country. At the same time the Viking recreators had taken over the beach, the museum's exhibit halls were displaying archeological and historic artifacts relating the evolution of human settlement (in ecological context) in this part of the country. One exhibit focused on the development of runes (the old Norsk alphebet) and its relation to modern text messages like: "Halvard slept with Thorvald's daughter last night." I guess what goes around comes around.

Crossing the Skagerrak

The Skaggerak is the narrow waterway that separates Norway and Denmark...it is a strait known for its violent currents as the North Sea and the eastern waters of the Baltic meet. In both world wars, the Skagerrak was strategically very important for Germany. One of the biggest sea battles of World War I, the Battle of Jutland, also known as the Battle of the Skagerrak, took place there May 31 to June 1, 1916. The importance of controlling this waterway, the only natural access to the Baltic, provided the motivation for the German invasion of Denmark and Norway during World War II.

But today it separates mainly tourists and truckers from easy access to the wild beauty of Norway and the highways of mainland Europe. It also separates Norwegians from the much lower prices of European goods, wine and alcohol. So the ferry, 9 stories high, 2 decks for cars and 2 for trucks, contains duty free shops, cafeterias, lounges, reserved seating with free movies, business class, cabins, bars and everything needed for the 3 1/2 hours of the crossing from Kristiansand to Hirtshalls on the north shore of Jultand. Like all transport lines, they sell more tickets than they have seats so people line the corridors, sleep under stairways, and sit in stairwells...a kind of 20th century counterpart to steerage class.





But standing on the rear deck in the cold wind as we pulled away from the Norwegian shore in the distance I saw a three masted sailing ship making its way along the coast. Very faint against grey sky, a narrow ridge of hills, and the dark sea. But there it was...almost ghost like slowing moving to the west. Perhaps going to Kristiansand where in a few weeks a three masted ships' race was scheduled. Or perhaps just a reminder of the ships my grandfather captained in the last days of the sailing ships in the 19th century.

Further along the coast

After a few days in Flekkefjord, we turned back east along the coast. We drove down to Lindesnes, site of a famous lighthouse that marks the most southern point of Norway. It was a fine summer day...bathers gathered along the few sandy beaches...and the local grocery store was full of summer residents occupying the summer cottages and condos that were springing up in spite of the very strict and expensive zoning regulations. We visited Vikingland, a small park designed mainly for very young vikings, where I posed beside the replica of one of the dragon-prowed ships that carried the medieval Northmen off to Ireland, Fance and points beyond.



We continued east to Kristiansand, a city of some 80,000 where we were to catch the ferry to Danmark. Arriving in the late afternoon, we had time to join the throngs in the downtown. Norway has vibrant downtowns, again the result of restrictive zoning that keeps stores and shops from sprawling out along the highways...no strip malls here. We chose one of the cafes nearby to watch the folks. Norway is the only country I've been in where they provide blankets in the outdoor cafes to keep warm in the chill (even in summertime) air.







Yet neither the chill nor the frequent showers has put a chill on our trip. As this pose of Charlotte on the bridge over the canal in Flekkefjord would indicate, we are having a fine voyage. And still we are not even half way through this exploration of our homelands.

Flekkefjord

We continued our journey south and then west along the Norwegian coast to Flekkefjord, a small resort town on the road to Stavanger. And what was as impressive for us as the scenery...the rock mountains coming straight down to the sea...were the engineering marvels, the tunnels and bridges and roads and train tracks, that link these small settlements to one another. They stand as evidence of a public investment strategy that tries to link these small previously isolated populations to the nation as a whole and make it possible for people to continue to live and work in them, not flocking to the few large cities in search of employment and education.



Flekkefjord has, like many of the fjords, deep waters, allowing large ships to come up to the port. But the town retains a traditional feel with narrow streets, white washed wooden houses, flowers in bloom in window boxes. And coffee shops and restaurants at strategic places...the sidewalks get crowded with tourists (mostly Norwegian)during the day, but at night it calms down and in the early morning, the streets are quiet.



There is a charming primness to these Norwegian houses...the neatness perhaps necessary to counteract the harshness of the weather and landscape during most of the year. Some years, as my cousin says, "the summer never comes." So the reflections of houses bouncing off the sunlight is stunning at times for its simplicity and sense of order and of quiet prosperity for the country as a whole.

Skien and Stathelle

We left our cousins in Honefoss as they were preparing to take their summer vacation trip to Florida...visiting a sister in Tampa. So we go, back and forth, across the ocean that once represented a change in one's life, one' destiny.

We drove south along the Oslo Fjord to the city of Skien, the largest city in Telemark. Yes, Telemark as in skiing...the bindings were developed here in the rural mountains of the province. Skien is the birthplace of Henrik Ibsen, the playwright, and the ciy contains a number of houses in which he lived as a boy (the family must of have had to move a lot due to the father's financial difficulties which may have contributed to Ibsen's deeply psychological plays). But Skien is more happily home to my cousin Gro who met us with her daughter for a cup of coffee. They were on their way to Oslo while we headed out further toward the coast. We promised each other further visits.


Our final stop in Telemark was Stathelle, meaning place of flagstone or flat stones, the town in which my father was born. He came from a line of sea captains on his mother's side (the Werge side)and from farmers on his father's side (Grotvik). He was sent to America when he was four years old in 1909, now 100 years ago. His father had died and he was sent to live with his grandfather, Thomas Werge, who had emigrated a few years before. After he arrived he took his grandfather's and his mother's last name. Economic conditions were difficult in Norway then and America represented opportunities now found in small Norwegian towns.


What struck me about Stathelle was how similar it was to the Highlands, the seaside community in New Jersey where I spent summers as a boy at my grandmother's house. The houses on the hill, the boats on the waterfront, even the bridge spanning the mouth of the fjord. Some things stay the same or emigrants find ways of keeping things the same when everything else seems to change.

Family

Travel to Norway is more than seeing the landscape, the fjords, the opera house. It is being with family. Over the years we have visited and been visited by my cousins (Knut's "farmor" and my "farfar" were brother and sister) about eight times, beginning in 1965 when I was a student at Oslo summer school. I was following in a pattern established by my mother who had "gone home" to Norway several times with her friends and cousins.

And so here we are again after 13 years from the last visit...way too long an absence. The young men of 1965 have become parents; their parents have become old men; their boys have become young men. But the women are still beautiful.

These links across years, across oceans and countries are easier now than when my parents and grandparents left Norway for the New World. Somehow that New World seems older, more worn out, than this land with its new roads, bright, neat towns, and fields of grain ripening in the long summer days. Yet the relationships between our families and our countries unfold in new ways which will be interesting to see.

Oslo

We drove out from Göteborg on the E6, crossing the border from Sweden to Norway, then to the E18, through another long tunnel, and onto Oslo's waterfront, past the new Opera House, through another tunnel and onto the E16 to Hønefoss to my counsin Knut's house. About a five hour trip with Charlotte honing her excellent map and Norwegian dictionary skills.

The amount of ongoing public investment in transport and cultural infrastructure is so impressive. New tunnels are being built to move the highways along the waterfront underground. New train lines are being laid from Oslo to Bergen. And light rail moves citizens through the shining city streets, up the surrounding hills, and into the near suburbs. Everywhere bikes and bike lanes for commuters.



And, then, there is the Oslo opera house, an example of interactive architecture whose sloping roofs invites visitors to walk up on it and see the city and the fjord from new angles. Imagine baby carriages on the roof while rehearsals for Puccini are going on inside...a kind of social invitation to expand one's horizons. The roof line stretches from the water's edge and, as we walked up, pulls us into the sky.

Til Goteburg

We crossed the Skagarrak, the strait separating Denmark from Sweden, on the ferry, a three hour ride. The sea was calm. Approaching Goteburg, we passed through a series of small islands and then docked downtown in the city. The city is built on hills of granite so that walking down a street, you can turn a corner and catch a glimpse of the ship of the ship on which you had arrived.

Lots of choices in getting down the street. The main streets are divided into distinct lanes for walking, for biking, for buses, for cars, and for light rail. I found on my bike it was hard to keep track of which lane I should be in. But the city is not kind to automobiles (as we found trying to find our hotel…google maps lied to us but we were set straight by some kind city dwellers). Parking tickets are vastly expensive (we got one in Arhus for just under $100). Parking rates change from daytime (10 kroner an hour) to night (2 kroner after 6 pm); some two hour parking is available on side streets, but must removed on Wednesdays of odd numbered weeks (they actually count the weeks each year to keep track…this is week 29 of 2009). Lots of rules…always better to bike.

Aarhus

We arrived in Aarhus on Saturday, catching the train from Copenhagen that leaves from the airport. Nothing like fine public transportation. We're in a house in the suburbs (bus 14 leaves around the corner every 20 minutes direct to downtown). The house is open to a large garden. The name of this development means "enclosed field" and each house is precisely that...a house occupying only part of a large field enclosed by walls or hedges and, on one side, the house itself.

Thus far we've been to the town center to take in the art museum. Whose most "famous" sculpture is The Boy who looks, for a Dane, rather anxious. Our favorite installation was called "8 minutes at the neighbors," a living room in which you sit on a sofa or chairs and the room moves through 24 hours of sunlight, darkness, t.v. and lights are on, t.v. and lights are off, wind moves the plants, all the while a huge montage plays on one wall.... And our next favorite was a montage of cuts from disaster films showing tsunamis, earthquakes, aliens landing, cars and buildings blowing up, fires, floods...coming in such fast and furious sequence that you can't help but laugh and laugh...Hollywood over the top.