Sunday On A Monday.

Thank you everyone for all your best wishes on my birthday! I appreciate them all, but I would very much like to thank the lovely and sweet Valentine for making me this special card (see below) - it is beautiful and so much me. Thank you again dear Valentine!


So why Sunday on a Monday? Because everyone was cheated out of my clematis update yesterday, therefore I am posting it today. (If anyone out there still follows this crazy update of mine.) This time around the photo has to be studied carefully, but it is very obvious that the honeysuckle is now being covered by a veil of clematis buds. They are just about to bloom, perhaps in a couple of weeks, depending on the weather.

And the weather is a topic for sure as it has turned for the worse. Yesterday it was still warm and partly sunny, but today, the winds are changing. Coming from the west, they bring cold humid air and that means unstable, cold, windy and wet weather.

I am split in my opinion on what I feel about this change. Part of me loves the heat and wants it back, but looking at the nature, I see it is suffering. The Scandinavian fresh and lush green is gone and everything appears dry and lifeless. The rain is vital in these parts and one can say almost a necessity. No matter how much I water my plants, they lack the vital benefits of the liquid of life that a summer rain brings.

My Day.

Today is a day that leaves me very happy, but also in some way brings on a sense of melancholy over the fact that time waits for no one. It is my birthday, as very obvious from the picture of a badge that I have received from the Irishman.

I am a summer child and as such I love summers endlessly. Already in my youth I enjoyed celebrating my day during this season, as almost at all times it was celebrated on our family vacation, in exotic and interesting places. I loved when I opened my eyes in the morning knowing that today everyone would be paying attention to just me and anything was possible. I looked forward to ice cream, sun and the sea and of course, many presents as well.

Today, this day passes in a much serene way and even though I do not like to think of how old I am anymore, I still enjoy the fact that I get the privilege to be here. To be in good health and to still have so much to look forward to.

Below is a picture taken by my grandfather, my fathers father, on my third birthday in 1970. Although I do not remember this day, I recall very much the spot where it was taken. I am sitting in our summer cottage with my father, looking out through the windows. I love old photographs like these as they remind me of the fact, that no matter how fast I think the years have gone by, when I gaze at that little girl in the picture, I know a lot of time has indeed passed and a lot of adventures have indeed been experienced by me since.

Despite the wrinkles and despite the limitation age brings, I still like to believe that the best is yet to come.

Hot, Hot, Hot!

It is hot. And I mean REALLY hot. This kind of hot I can not really recall from the decade that I have been living in Denmark.
It is impossible to be indoors, as my house is a furnace and outside the only relief can be found in the shade, where it is 32C (90F). And with 44C (111F) in the sun, it is a scorcher.

But I LOVE it. I love it completely and I wish for it to last. It brings back the memories of hot, humid air that I remember with joy from my years spend in North Carolina. And I miss that kind of weather on regular bases. However, everything good up here in the North last only a split second and already tomorrow, the weather will be turning for the worse.

This post is therefore short, as I have no energy to move, not even to write. Additionally I want to spend all the time I possibly can to soak up the sun and the beneficial heat. Instead I let the pictures below describe my Saturday, which is a one that I will recall very fondly in a few months.

But before I go, I would like to wish all of you, my American friends, a wonderful 4th of July!

After Dusk...

My final post about our Prague adventure (at least this time around), describes the magic of the city after the onset of darkness. A veil of endless, sentimental romance settles over the streets, exuberating the feel of old photographs or paintings from times long gone.
The best pictures that I took on this trip were made during the hours of dusk and twilight. Nevertheless, they can not match the beauty of the reality, which can only be appreciated fully by being there.

The winding streets leading up to the castle became silent and deserted as soon as darkness covered the city. We lived in a small, romantic hotel just under the castle and had every opportunity to visit it after dark. It was accessible and held open. Walking around the empty castle yard and gazing at the buildings and the majestic cathedral with its gargoyls and ornate stone structures was an amazing, unusual and almost surreal experience, particularly due to the fact that just a few hours prior, it was filled with hundreds of tourists.

Of course, a city like Prague with all its legends and tales, holds a few stories of the supernatural nature. Book after book has been written on this subject and the city offers a multitude of ghost tours.
We joined one of the tours and were led through the streets of the old town, listening to forgotten tales of the old city, feeling the hair on the back of our neck rise. No matter how logical ones mind is, the atmosphere of the empty streets mixed with the dark tales will make a believer out of the worst of sceptics.




A picture worth posting and a detail worth mentioning is the one that we were encouraged to take standing in front of the St. James Basilica. Not only does the church have a mummified forearm hanging at its entrance, but the monastery connected to it also apparently played a major role in the killing of the Knights Templar in the 14th century.
On the pictures of the entrance here, one large "energy orb" can be seen to the right of the entrance, almost at middle of the gate. Although some will claim that these orbs are of no supernatural origin and can clearly be explained scientifically, I choose to believe in magic and will proudly display my one and only meeting with the unknown.

Ss. Cyril and Methodius Cathedral.

On one of our last days in Prague we made a visit to a more somber of Prague sights, the Ss. Cyril and Methodius Cathedral. It is a beautiful Orthodox Church in Prague, position on a street leading to the Moldau river. Visiting it made such a strong impression on me that I decided to share it with all of you, despite the graveness of the issue.

I recall passing the cathedral on numerous occasions as a child, in the company of my grandparents. What stuck in my memory was when they pointed out the side of the church facing the street and brought my attention to the numerous holes in its facade (clearly created by gun shots), as they at the same time mentioned the World War II. I was never offered any more information, nor was I looking for any explanation. The memories of WW2, at that time merely 30 years old were always around me. But to me that was a distant past and my mind, although intrigued, only accepted what I saw without further interest.
This was about 35 years ago and that was the last time I passed the church until a couple of weeks ago, on the 19th of June.

The side facade, as seen here, was covered with beautiful wreaths and fresh flowers, to commemorate a somewhat sad anniversary of the previous day.
This was the sight of a terrible tragedy in the year of 1942.

The events unfolded already on the 27th of May the same year in other parts of Prague, with the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich, the Deputy Protector of Bohemia and Moravia during the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia. The operation was carried out by young Czech men, trained by the British, who parachuted in secrecy into the capital. Following the successful assassination they hid for weeks in the Cathedral (Heydrich was mortally wounded and died in the hospital a few days later).
Eventually, the brave men were discovered on 18th of June and in a bloody battle that lasted for two hours, one soldier was wounded and died shortly after arrival at the hospital. The other parachutists committed suicide to avoid capture after an additional four hour battle with the SS.

Signs of this battle can still be seen on the church facade, but also foremost eerily sensed upon the visit to the church crypt, where the doomed soldiers were hiding. This was one of the most stirring places I have ever visited in my life. The air was filled with sadness and a feeling of despair, clearly palpable at all times.

The consequences of the assassination were severe and too cruel for words. Entire villages were wiped out, leveled with the ground and innocent people, among them the priest and chaplain of the church (and their families) were executed.

Our visit to this church stirred a plethora of feelings in me. It did not make me despise or blame anyone, nor single out anyone or any place. I think it mostly brought the terror of war closer to home. Places such as these serve as a reminder that peace should never be taken for granted. It also reinforces the fact, that terrible evil will always exist, but so will the incredible good and that true heroes are ordinary people we might rarely hear about.

A "Not So Distant" Past.

We already knew from the very first time when we planned our trip to Prague that we wanted to visit one particular place. The Communism museum.

The Irishman found it on the net and the idea immediately stirred my curiosity.

My interest in this "not so distant past" can at times be viewed as strange and even morbid, by others that stayed behind, so to say, and lived it. To them this is a dark part of their lives that they are not too keen on re-visiting. Or feel it is too early to do so.

However, I was a child during the communism era and even though I in no way support the system, it holds bittersweet recollection that defines my childhood to a certain extend. Considering the fact that the so called "Velvet Revolution" in Czech republic will celebrate its 20 years anniversary in November, it is obvious that a new generation has been born that knows nothing of the life that their parents and grandparents lived.

I applaud the couple that founded the museum. It took them years to collect all the items, pictures, memorabilia and information and they created a truly interesting place. It is unique, as this chapter of the history is closed, but should never be forgotten. Some of the items on display will become rare collectors item.

I became particularly intrigued by the pioneer pin, as it brought back a wave of sentimental memories from a time in my youth that I described previously. Although I used to be a pioneer, I no longer own the uniform, the red scarf nor the pioneer pin that was worn on the blue shirt, as seen in the picture taken at the museum.

Gazing at the neatly folded uniform behind the glass, I experienced a strong longing to posses the pin, which connects me to that time in my past. Little did I know that I was soon to become an owner of one.

The museum sold multitude of pins and badges, but not this one.
The very next day, we headed out into the outskirts of Prague to visit a large, local flea market. But this was a type of market I have never seen previously nor will I be likely to ever see again. Although visited by a few tourists, it was mostly attended by the locals and anything and everything was for sale. Including brand new doors, refrigerators and car tires. Do not ask me how they were obtained. Located in the suburbs, in a wide factory area, walking through it was an experience of a lifetime. I got to fully practice my haggling skills as well and after a few hours, both me and the Irishman were proud owners of a multitude of pins, including a pioneer one.


I have placed it together with all my other souvenirs, on a shelf in my study. It will forever be a reminder of the fact that once my future was cloudy and unsure and political freedom was an unknown word in my vocabulary.

A City In The Heart Of Europe.

"I see a majestic city, whose glory will reach the stars!"

Such was the prophecy of Libuše, a beautiful woman of royal blood, who married a humble ploughman, Premyšl. According to the legends, she had visions of a glorious "golden" city and her dynasty ended up ruling Prague from the castle of Vyšehrad.

Everyone who has once visited this city will tell you that it holds a certain magic; one that will allure and capture you like no other metropolis.

My father was born there. He studied at Charles University, where he met my mother. Today both my parents live outside Prague, where they moved about three years ago. I never lived in the city myself, only briefly in its vicinity when I was a child. But I have spend almost all of my childhood summers here, until the age of twelve. They were spend in company of my grandparents and the rest of the family on my fathers side.

I knew already as a child that this was a special place. I read its tales with excitement and fascination and have always been intrigued by the "city of hundred spires". Positioned truly in the heart of Europe, it has played major roles in its history. And indeed history can be sensed everywhere. It is almost as if the city is an aged book; the old cobbled streets are lines in stories that will take you back into the time of knights and kings, into wars and to the time of peace, when the city flourished and its powerful rulers gave rise to the magnificent castles, bridges, churches and cathedrals that are its trademark to this day.

It would take me days and days to list all the sights, packed with tales of history, describing the rise and fall of the capital of small kingdoms and even empires throughout the times. Instead I decided to post a collage of pictures depicting the main historical places which I visited on my recent trip. I have seen them all, numerous times before. Yet, they seem always new to me. Each visit is different than the previous one, as I am different as well. Each time I see something new. This time I saw everything once again fresh and unexplored through the eyes of the Irishman. Unlike during other visits, on this occasion I tried to look up, at the old houses and the striking architecture and the multitude of "house signs"; small ornate pictures illustrating a particular spot, aiding greatly in recognition of places in the -often illiterate- past.

What makes the city unique is the picturesque downtown, that stretches from the castle, which towers over the river Vltava (Moldau) and continues spreading over both river banks, which are connected by the legendary Charles Bridge. This creates almost a theater backdrop, appearing at times unreal. Very romantic at night, when the historical buildings become illuminated, one can feel the past and the present combine in a fairytale like setting.

Today, the city I remember from my childhood doesn't exist. Progress, as always, brings changes. I refuse to contemplate to what extend these changes bring benefits or not. The optimist in me will at all times think that change is the only constant in life. One can either choose to be assimilated by it, or to embrace it and realize that time will never stand still, only in ones memories.

The Beauty Of Train Travel.

I have previously disclosed that I am a nervous flier. Correction; I used to be. These days I do not ever travel by planes. As a young girl I would board a plane and hated every minute of the flight; as an adult I refuse to fly. This makes traveling slightly complicated and cumbersome in some instances.

However, this post is not about the fear of flying, but about the first part of my recent trip, which I spend with the Irishman and my parents in Prague. I intend to dedicate the next five posts to my trip, which was wonderfully interesting, exciting and absolutely memorable, spend in a company of people that I love the most.

As much as I hate flying, I do love trains. Train travel is highly developed in Europe and the net of well organized and efficient tracks covers the whole of the continent. Crossing borders is easy and at times pretty uneventful. It is first after another voice speaking a new language comes streaming from the PA system that one realizes that a new state has been entered.

There is not a city, small or large that is not accessible by rail. In some instances, trains even board ferries and large ships to cross seas and there are impressive tunnels and bridges build all through Europe that will carry trains through mountains, and to islands across wide sounds. One of the best organized trains systems can be found in Germany (DB). The country owns a multitude of modern, high speed trains which travel with the average speed of 200km/h (125miles/h). And I am sure everyone is familiar with the TGV in France, which can take you from Paris to London in a mere duration of 4h. This is one example of many that shows that trains can in some cases travel faster then planes. Furthermore, the big advantage of train travel is that one is transported from the center of one city directly to the center of another city, cutting back on "to and from airport" travel, which can sometimes take hours.

I again traveled to Prague by train, as I have done a few times previously, where I was to spend a day with my parents, before meeting up with the Irishman.

I took a total of three trains and it took me about 15h to reach my destination. One of the many disadvantages of traveling alone by train is the fact that at all times I have to carry and guard my luggage. I am a high maintenance woman and a vacation of 14 days means tons of clothes and shoes to bring with me, plus the occasional gift for friends and family. Needles to say, I was pretty tired once I arrived.

However, except for the heavy luggage, train travel is a pleasure in every way. I love European train stations, which are organized and beautiful, bustling with travelers, holding a certain aura of adventure. Some are very old and preserved, with majestic waiting halls, while others are small and country like.

My first train brought me to Hamburg in north Germany. It was a gloomy, cold and rainy morning. The next stop was Berlin, one of the most beautiful and large train stations I have seen. Although I have spend a day in the city once some 20 years ago, I decided right then and there that I would love to return here for an extended period of time. Perhaps for a week, preferably with the Irishman who is fluent in German. I think the city is worth a visit on all accounts.

Finally, I boarded a Czech train, which would take me to Prague within 6h. That was the best part of the trip. The train was almost empty and I loved watching the passing landscape, while listening to the monotonous sound of the wheels against the tracks below. The clouds that have been following me the whole day slowly dispersed during the trip, revealing a magnificent sunset. The images captured me and inspired me to make a short movie clip below.

The train from Berlin to Prague travels through one of the most beautiful natural areas, particularly at the German-Czech border, where the tracks follow the river "Labe"(Elbe). It is difficult to take good pictures from a moving train, but I hope the few ones here can illustrate the beauty that can be found in this part of Europe.
As always, please click to enlarge.

A Taste Of The Tropics.

Scandinavian summers are short and elusive. This far up north, we live for the sunshine and can be found frolicing in it as soon as the first rays shine down on us in the early spring.

The climate here can be described as one long autumn season. The Gulf Stream keeps the climate temperate and very even and stable throughout the year. The winters are long, dark, windy but relatively mild and the summers are short, rainy, full of light but cold.
However, once in a while exceptions will defy the rule. In the winter, we can get hit by heavy snowstorms, which can cause traffic havoc and will confine us in our homes. Likewise, comes July, there can be weeks - and if we are lucky - months of very warm weather, once the wind blows from the right direction bringing hot and dry air and allowing the high pressure settle in over Scandinavia.
Such is the weather right at this moment. The air is still and hot, the sun is strong and everything is vibrant and alive. People as well. It is amazing what a change in the mental state of the mind good weather can bring. Combined with the light nights, this is the summer of my dreams. The only cloud on my blue skies is the realization that it is Sunday and I have to go back to work tomorrow; how unfair life can be at times. Additionally, this heat makes me lazy and at this point some of my plants are in need of trimming and pruning. As I sit on my terrace in the shade of the perfumed Honeysuckle and Jasmine writing this, I am already making excuses for why the gardening can wait until perhaps next week.

I also know, that in the evening my house will turn into a furnace, due to the large windows facing west. They act as the glass of a green house and comes evening, the temperatures inside rises at times to about 40C (104F), making it feel like a desert. Air-condition systems are not common in Denmark and the only relief is to open all the windows, hoping for a draft. However, I do not mind. While I sit inside in the early part of the night, and sweat profusely watching yet another magnificent sunset, I savor every minute, as I know that in a few months, this will all be a distant dream. I will be sitting in the same spot, submerged in darkness, covered with five blankets (at least) still freezing, while watching the cold city lights below.

Now back to my weekly clematis updates. Changes are less obvious with each week as the plant is now growing less and all its energy is spend on forming flowers. There are plenty of buds at this point, so lets hope they will all turn into lovely blue flowers in a few weeks. The honeysuckle is also unusually rich and majestic this year, hiding most of the clematis at this point.

As the changes are less pronounced, I decided to post a picture of the same spot as it looked some months ago, just to illustrate the big change the summer season brings each year.