Hopelessly early I'm sitting at the bus stop at 8.40 with my bus not due until 9.16. Having allowed myself plenty of time for my mile and a half walk with backpack and frontpack, i found myself ready fifteen minutes ahead of time so wandered away.
The wind, ive never talked about the wind. If the Faroes was about fog, Denmark is the wind. Always blowing. Generally a kind wind, not the harsh cold we get at home but wind, always wind. I realise on leaving the house that its the first time ive actually walked out since i arrived, for my bike has been my every move. Its just been that litle bit too far out to walk with ease and everything in town is rather strung out over a couple of miles. i take the scenic sea walk, a touch further but much more agreeable than traffic and i realise it is the combination of the wind and the wooden jettys that are reminiscent of Carnarvon for often there would be a breeze to stir Australias formidable heat.
My legs have a short section of brown between the white ankles and knees. I smell. Again. Just grungy. Everything smells. Just a very used, day in day out grimy bag and shoe smell, on top of which my clothes are due for a wash but hand washing just doesnt get navy clothes really clean. excitement, there will be a washing machine when i arrive this evening! I would love to wash my daysack too but am fearful it may not survive. My shoes would love an overnight soak and scrub. Trekking trainers, they have served me well but are heavy and hot and really need a few days off. At least wearing socks every day its not that awful foot smell thats impossible to scrub from Teva sandals and such like.
My next host is trying very hard. I know my room is small and i have three flights of stairs to climb but at £24 including breakfast itll be fine. She wants to know whether im gluten or lactose intolerant when she buys muesli and yoghurt, i tell her not to fret that ill eat anything but that museli is not my favourite, please dont buy especially for me, i usually eat rye bread and cheese. She replies, ok ill surprise you! Im unsure i want a surprise, think id much rather just buy myself eggs and cook an omelette.
This has been the land of christmas trees, fields and fields of them, allready labelled ready to be cut or dug. It is a fertile, productive land. The bus passes bakery after bakery and i think what heaven for those who like endless sugary pastries. Im pleased not to have even breathed the smell of any since my first night in Ribe, staying im the attic at the bakery where a free plate of yesterdays unsold pastries were help yourself. I wonder why it is that free food, even though not of my personal choice, i nevertheless eat, without real enjoyment and knowing its unhealthy. Something about being freely available.
Hot dogs, pastries and ice creams seem to be the staple foods here and its a real struggle to find anything vegetarian at all on the menu. Heading for city life im hopeful of finding wider choices and street foods.
In Odense, I want to find Funen bazaar for its street food, Nordic house as the celebration of all things Faroese, Icelandic and Greenlandic and suppose i really should walk in the foorsteps of hans christian anderson to see the buildings of historical interest. I plan my route. Three seperate sections of the city.
Its eleven when i arrive and having had a light, early breakfast, think ill head for the food first. Too early, mostly shut but i can have a chicken kebab. For heavens sake! So I eat a chicken kebab. The city is in the middle of major building works so ive already walked in circles a bit but now head reasonably straightforwardly to the tourist office.
Fuckin tourist offices. The guy actually smiles and gives me my walking leaflet, says nordic house is a beautiful building and worth going to just for itself but no he doesnt know if there are any exhibitions on but i should definitely go, its a lovely restaurant too. Otherwise he thinks i should do museums. I thank him, explain im museumed out and will just do the walk and then go to nordic house. A woman pops up with a leaflet from behind him, theres a Faroese art exhibition at the moment. Perfect. I thank her, say ill walk the walk and then head over there, about three kilometres away he says.
No, he calls, it may not still be open and rushes to his computer to come back and inform me that it closes at two and i should go right now. I didnt really care much for HCA so am not unhappy to abandon his childhood walk and without checking the time, duly head over. The exhibition consists of a dozen pieces of work by the same artist, in the general entrance hall of the building, which does not close at two and which, in itself is non descript. im over and done by twelve thirty but two miles now from the town centre and a mile from the railway station.
Ive found a shady spot in a small green space amidst the litter of cranes, bulldozers, scaffolding and cement mixers and have been learning spanish for a while but Duolingo is protesting. She tells me she needs to connect to the internet before she will let me do any more and keeps telling me ive done enough for today! Its only 1.20, my train is at 4.50.
I bought my train ticket through to Malmo quite happily but the woman in the DHB office tells me i actually need three trains. One to Copenhagen, change train to the airport to go through security and then one to Malmo. Hey ho.
The storage lockers were too small so i had to partially unpack my backpack to get it in. I have a good half hour walk once i get to Malmo this evening and decide to catch an earlier train instead so im not doing the airport at rushhour and can break my walk, waiting in a park in Malmo until my host gets home from work.
1.40 pm, time to replace my shoes and navigate the building site, repack my bag and find the correct platform. Im so very pleased i decided to spend half a day in Odense! I see my shoes are now carrying grass clippings for the park was freshly mown when i crossed it this morning, maybe that will sweeten them a touch until it starts to rot.
Theres actually a very beautiful outdoor swimming pool in the middle of the harbour building site, finished first, no doubt as a sales pitch, for the high storey apartments going up. And of course, theres inevitably pokemon hunters all around me but otherwise Odense is uninspiring.
Heading for the station, i can see where i need to go, can even see trains but more building work blocks my way and i am forced up onto the new bridge to cross all the way over to the other side of the lines to get in.
