ROSKILDE, DENMARK• I slept in! This gave me equal parts relief that I got some good sleep and panic over what I might be missing here, laying all lazy in bed at 10am in a foreign country where there is stuff to see!?
For a change of scenery from the city, I took a twenty-minute train ride to Roskilde, which dates back to the pre-Christian Viking Age.
It’s super old, y’all.
But actually, it didn’t look so old and while it was a nice time, it wasn’t amazing. I may have been a little lonely for my travel friend Libby.
I really hoped to rent a bike, but on my Google maps, where it said there was a bike rental shop, there was nothing. Just an empty storefront. I wanted to eat lunch at Lene’s Street Food stand because it had the best lunch reviews of anyplace in Roskilde. I made my way to the plaza where it was located and couldn’t see the stand. There was a lovely, albeit likely touristy restaurant in the middle of the square with tables out in the sun. The weather was perfect. Maybe 70 degrees? So I decided that would do.
I order a tuna sandwich with fries and went to find a table for myself. As I did this, I spotted a kiosk right next to the restaurant, on the side read “Lene’s Street Food”
When my order arrived, I was happy to see that the sandwich contained a lovely tuna steak sliced (as opposed to a tuna salad which is what I’d expected)! There was the usual remoulade which was very nice, and the fries were good and all was well. I was tired. Lots of running around and perhaps not the best sleep every night either.
Back on our third day Libby and I boasted about how well we were sleeping and didn’t seem to suffer much jetlag. Then we woke up on the morning of the fourth day, both having not slept well, “We got cocky” Libby said.
So true. Will we ever learn?
I was halfway through my delicious tuna steak sandwich when I realized – it was chicken. And yes, I realize now that the bacon should have been a clue. Also, the fact that it didn’t taste like tuna. But, hey, I try not to judge food in foreign countries but rather just enjoy it.
That’s how you know you’re A) Really tired, and/or B) On vacation and pretty much cool with everything that comes your way because you’re in a new place and not in an office.
Towards the end of my wandering through Roskilde, after I’d visited the Viking Musem, and got a bit lost navigating the roads, my battery died in my trusty travel camera. To my overplanning astonishment, I had not brought a back-up battery. What an amateur. So for the rest of my day, I shot only with my iPhone. I have to say, there is something a bit freeing about not being able to touch extra bells and whistles, zoom in or out, etc.
After shooting a bit more in Copenhagen, I joined Tormod and his lovely, 17-year old niece Selma for a home-cooked, perfectly medium-rare steak with potatoes and salad in their apartment in Frederiksberg. Tormod, after I told him I liked black licorice, brought me a licorice beer. I’m not usually a beer drinker, but I had to try it. It was really interesting, that last kick of the licorice.
(Please remember that while I’m happy to share my photos, they are not for reuse, borrowing, downloading or copying. )
Licorice it truly a thing here. It was in Amsterdam as well. Though with both, salted licorice seems to be more popular. I generally try not to judge other cultures (oh, who am I kidding, I’m the worst Judgey Judgerson) but that salt licorice is…well, it’s horrid.
Finding sweet is doable however, you just have to ask (it’s all in Danish, remember?).
Sadly, right after dinner was over, Tormod felt horrible and had to go to bed. We had planned to go for a ride the next day along the coast, and grab a bite for lunch before I would fly to Zurich in the evening. While I was disappointed that our plans were in jeopardy I was, of course, more concerned about how bad he was feeling!
As he tucked himself into bed, Selma and I stayed at the dining table and enjoyed a lovely chat about life in Denmark (she too is from Norway, but is staying for the school year with Tormod) and journalism. She hopes to be a journalist someday. A noble profession if ever there was one!