In Denmark they do not lock their bikes. The Danish like their bikes. You’ll find them placed neatly under window sills and beside eateries. Children friendly and plastic bags wrapped around the seats. Nice bikes too. Something similar to the Netherlands I would wager but with the sheer volume of wheeled mechanisms whizzing by in the lowlands – you tend to treat it with disinterest. Such is the threat. Danish bikes are nicer!
And it’s always funny being here. Not funny ha ha. I mean that in an Irish way. It’s an interesting and interested funny. I like the Danish – Most of my favourite Danish friends are from Denmark. They just do it a little differently here than the rest of us I find and my experiences have always been colorful. From disappearing trains to wall sockets… you sense that there is this ‘je ne sais pas’ to the Danish that is not so French. They have their own flare – devil may care. Streets are cobbled in some fashion that seems to be more about esthetics than practicality and plays havoc with wheelie cases. (I know this. I’ve gone through several wheels over three recent trips here). They won the Euros and still manage in some shape of form to have a royal family. They rule Greenland?
Like always it’s about the people. It’s the people that make the place. Yes people are shaped by their surroundings and in turn shape some more back but what they do here is very much their own. I find the Danish to be like the Irish. Yes we have had many’s a tryst it’s true with our neighbors from “Lochlann” (Google it), our seafaring friends have paid us, apart from good attention, many’s a visit over the millennia having had always something to share. Contrary to popular belief thankfully – it was not always one way… but that’s a story for another day. Safe to say we know each others groove, we get on and share a similar pace. The Irish stay out later on weekdays.
Speaking of weekdays and staying out late, It was early to bed for me, on the wrong side of twelve. A late night nice gig in Aarhus (saving myself for tonight), I awoke to the news that dear Leonard Cohen had passed away. Tributes are streaming in on all social media with so many touching tales. For one man he has touched so many with thought and tenderness. I don’t have his words. I can only listen to them now. I have the opportunity and luxury of discovering the man with wider eyes as a mature writer. It’s never too late!
Time and tide waits for no man – my father always says and in a week that’s had it’s fair share of weird waking moments, I wanted to touch on the election in the US. Truth is I am still in a mild state of comic shock. When I think about it my stomach chuckles and I giggle. Nervous fear maybe. As a child that’s how I always dealt with intimidation or scary situations. It seemed to lessen the reality. Let’s hope it still works. I will continue to be positively optimistic. That maybe the future is not as bleak as some might suggest. I’m tired of looking at the past to make decisions for the future. Let’s make it up. Why not! I’m all for peace and love and what a glorious picture. Imagine that. It isn’t hard to do (wink wink). We have an open plan now and there are no maps. We’re all on this big massive organic spaceship spinning at speeds unimaginable around a ridiculously temperamental molten mass that cares not for votes or Volkswagons. So what have we got to loose. The future is bright. Believe me… In Denmark they don’t lock their bikes. And I like that!