Monday, April 27, 2015

Trip Diary 1990 - The Train Rolled on to a Ferry

In Copenhagen I went to look at The Little Mermaid: 

...Harbor with a huge white & a huge protective paint orange liner – the Little Mermaid was small was approached by a shingle of large slabs of rock – one could walk very close.

            I took the bus to the Stroget & walked back – a lady with an accordian, central or            S. American with whistles &a guitar, a flautist, some rock players, all were street musicians.

            Supper & ready to go tomorrow -

Saturday April 21, 1990 11:05 pm  

I had only a short walk from the hotel to the train station.  The train rolled on to a ferry: 

(At the ferry I asked about the instructions, the younger man answered and his English sounded good.)  One who seemed young sat quietly at the window on my seat.

            The two men who talked opened a small whiskey flask.  And had some with coffee and smoked.  The ferry was very comfortable for riding.  I went briefly out to the outside deck – the boat steered almost in a circle.  At my point its side was white on the water with froth from the turn – I could look back from the side to see the dock we left.

            It was cold so I went to the train to wait.  The conductor put me into a reserved seat – the other compartment was full of cigarette smoke.  We crossed the Island of Fyn.  There were green fields and fields of yellow flowers that might have been mustard.  There were small log loads, small and irregular deciduous logs from a forest that was logged with many trees left with wide intervals.  The trunks seemed so known and to have such individual character – and I have never seen deciduous trees logged.

            I saw a mound of field at one place.  I played my recorder.  Two people talking seemed to make me tired.  A young woman got on at Odense – its platform billboards and arrangements reminded me of New York trains, new and streel frames of narrow contrast to the massive brick buldings that are older.

            I played my recorder again – the young woman at Odense was greeted as a friend by a young man on the train in my new compartment, he was with his sister.

            We crossed two suspension bridges, and that was all of the island of Fyn,  – through the window I could see the second bridge ahead.  The train would curve to the right and we would cross to Jutland. 

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