Musing about family travel on the train to Bergen, by Alissa

It’s week 6 of our 8 week sojourn, and we’ve become Travellers. It's amazing, that being my overused, highly abused adjective to describe most of my time during the past several weeks. Cedar and Max are sturdy little backpackers, as we quasi-improvise our way thru Iceland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and the Orkney Islands. Cedar straps on her Hello Kitty pack and stares out resolutely on the bus platform, holding out a hand to hold and asking, “Are we going to our new home now?” Max dives into a new book and reads us passages from Roald Dahl while we ooh and aah at scenery speeding past us that looks like the Pacific northwest on steroids. A brass band in uniform awaits us at the Oslo train station, strikes up marching music as we pass them at 8 in the morning, while railroad employees hand out free chocolate and coffee. Of course. But what is going on?! Ah, the station has reopened for the first time in 6 weeks. A fellow traveler overhearing me explaining this to Andrew, quips, “They’re doing it for YOU!” Just another day of travel, Drury-Schwartz style.

In a bout of early morning insomnia brought on by Cedar peeing in her sleeping bag, I began to think about the challenges and serendipities that come with extended, semi-improvised family backpacking. Here’s my list: (Note to my Mom: It reminds me of the time Dad kept a list of my complaints when we first arrived in Israel for our sabbatical in 1986!)

Challenges:

1.      Spending more money than we’d like to. Things come up. ‘Nuff said.

2.      Orienting ourselves to a new place every 3-7 days: municipal transportation systems, currency exchanges, city layouts.

3.      Abandoning any sense whatsoever of sticking to routines that help our kids behave in a sane manner: naps, bedtimes, meals, etc.

4.      Days with little or no social connection with other people.  

5.      Trying to still our loud, spirited children on busses and trains, in museums, in the grocery stores, you name it.

6.      Being in semi-public view while staying in friends’ homes: dealing with tantrums, bedwetting, and bedtimes. 

7.      Running out of hair conditioner. Seriously. My hair feels so dry, and my scalp really itches. Why don’t I just buy some damn conditioner?!

8.      Trying to find toothpaste your kids will like. (This makes me feel like an Ugly American to even admit, but before the trip, my biggest fear was what I would do when we ran out of the kids’ toothpaste. My fears have come to fruition, and we are now on the prowl for Max-and-Cedar friendly dental hygiene products! I don’t think the kids have used toothpaste in a week.)

9.      Having less control over our physical needs than we usually do: food, sleep, exercise. Toothpaste, obviously.

10.  Being with our kids 24/7. See #4. We’re our kids’ playmates. A LOT of the time.

11.  Watching the kids bicker. I can’t complain though. Until they spent 24/7 time together for weeks on end, in close quarters, they had no history of fighting. Really.

Serendipities:

1.      Open-faced sandwiches. Good stuff on bread or crackers. ‘Nuff said.

2.      Unplanned, serendipitous connections with people. Bo and Marianne in Copenhagan.  Hans and Ingelise in Toftland. Niels and Kristin (of the witchy coven of musicians’ wives!) in Sundeborg. Alexandra and Tommy in Varberg. Anders and Anna-Kirin in Varberg (and their son Oscar, who Max may well visit next summer!) Nema and Simon in Kongalv. Audun and Jugud in Oslo. Etc.!

3.      Watching our kids find ways to amuse each other.

4.      Reading Max’s sci-fi book after he’s through with it; Max frequently checking in with me to see if I have any questions about what I’m reading. Doing math with Max on busses, trains, and ferries. Developing team-building activities together: Solid Fire Consulting and Son!

5.      Holding Cedar real, real close. Staring at her freckled nose and making her day by pretending she’s the baby bird and I’m the mama cow. Here’s a poem I wrote about my lovely girl a few days ago:

She eats a peach

with determined concentration

Naked, on the Swedish porch.

Juice runs down her chin, into the recess of her chest,

over her belly,

Tracing her leggy 4 year old curves.

She is part antelope and part Coppertone girl,

a volcano child with shiny, piercing eyes.

OK, that last line doesn’t really work with the rest of the poem, but she IS a volcano child!

6.      Going to the Bygdoy beach in Oslo after a day at the open-air Norsk Folkemuseum and Viking Ships museum. Two places Andrew and I loved so much from our travels 20 years ago. The beach is unexpected, however, and is all light and waves and rocks.

7.      Tromping around the Sagnlandet Lejre living museum. So many sensual details: salmon cooking on wood planks over a smoky fire, heavy woolen clothing, rolling green fields, iron-smithing, whittling.

8.      The vast moonscape of Iceland.

9.      Riding bikes in Copenhagen. Alongside everyone else in the city. So safe, so relaxing, so expansive. A totally different approach to city life.

10.  After a 20-plus year wait, finally getting to amble around Christiania, a quasi-free “state” in Copenhagen. Sure I only got a tourist’s brief glance, but I found it deeply inspiring and exciting. I wish we could all live more like this.

11.  Discovering that the dining car on the Oslo-Bergen train is EMPTY and lounging about on the padded seats, writing, and eating skillingsboller (cinnamon-cardamom rolls).

12.  Being unequivocally welcomed into friends’ homes, many of whom we had never met prior to our trip.

13.  Doing work as I travel. It’s satisfying and balancing and provides unquestionable justification for taking time for myself!

14.  Being a family together 24/7 without any exterior rhythms imposed upon us. Creating our own travel culture together.

I’m starting to develop a line of thinking that has been bouncing around in my non-verbal reptilian core the last few weeks.  Travelling for this long makes me feel a little bit like a sleepwalker. The word "somnambulist" keeps popping into my head. I think it's because I'm experiencing time, my body, my family, and my career in a different, slower way than I usually do with the usual daily grind back in Brooklyn of getting up too early, getting the kids and myself ready for the day, running them to school, working, dealing with pick-ups and afterschool activities, making dinner, playing together and taking care of household chores, getting the kids to bed, finding some time for myself and with Andrew, going to bed, and beginning again in the morning.

I don't think I'm sleepwalking at all, actually. I think I'm decompressing from a busy New York City professional mama life, and I LOVE it. The decompression and the life I’ve put a temporary pause to. Now I think I know what the most significant souvenir of the trip will be for me! 

Pannekoken Throughout Scandinavia, by Max

Apple Pannekoken created in Sonderborg, Denmark

Pannekoken is a dish that I learned to make in New York. It is like a very eggy pancake, also it is much thicker than the regular pancake. You can modify it for breakfast, dinner, lunch, lots of things.

Smoked mackerel pannekoken in Varberg, Sweden

Here is the recipe to serve 4:
4 eggs
¾ cup flour
¾ cup milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter

0.      Preheat oven to 400⁰ F (184⁰ C).

1.      Melt the butter.

2.      Whisk the eggs.

3.      Put the eggs and everything in a pot to stir.

4.      Butter a pan.

5.      Put the mixture (now in pan) into oven for 18 min.

6.      Eat.

P.S. I usually put nutmeg and cinnamon on top of it. I also sometimes put in apple or smoked fish. Also, eat with breakfast:

a.      Brown sugar

b.      Cinnamon sugar

c.       Syrup

d.     Jelly

The Scandinavia part means that I’m making it in every country we go to. So far that means:

ü  Iceland

ü  Denmark

ü  Sweden*

*Two times.

Apple pannekoken in Kongalv, Sweden

The chef himself!

This is my bliss, by Alissa

20 years ago it was a poppy field in Ystad, Sweden...

This summer, it's a wheatfield on the island of 
Kegnaes in Denmark...

This time, Andrew and I come with exquisite company!

Including Maximillian Viking Drury,
whose middle name was inspired by a young boy in Sweden
20 years ago.

I love my viking.

For my brother, by Alissa

Why's this post for my bro?

'Cuz Als is my bro!

Als is the island we've been staying on. They sell award-winning sausages there!

We leave Als tomorrow!

Danish Lamp Porn, by Alissa

From our friends' house in Toftlund.
They couldn't believe I  was so captivated by their  banal household items.

Look what you can do with folded planes! From our friends' house in Sonderborg

Darth Vader meets Danish winters! Also from Sonderborg.
 (No need to turn on until 10 PM in the summers!)

2nd Day in Jylland, by Max

July 17, Toftlund & Rǿmǿ

This was the second day at Inge-Lise and Hans’ house.  We started the day with rolls and jelly.   It was delicious.  Then we (me and Cedar) played with Nemo, the world’s greatest soccer playing dog!  Then we went on a walk to the great playground.  This was a playground with swings, slides, rock climbing, balancing truck tires, spinny things, a zip line, and a mini-rope course. We could have spent hours there, but we had places to go to. 

So we went back and started driving and we noticed these houses had roofs made out of layers and layers of brown, dried leaves.  It looked almost  like fur.  After a while, the car we were following pulled over and we were almost sure it would be a random dude who would ask why we were following him.  But much to our relief it was Hans, and he told us that we were at the historic house of the sea captain.  In the first room was a giant whale skeleton, of a sperm whale.  We saw that it had lots of teeth, and giant hands.

When we went in we first saw a hall with a rock floor and lots of wood stalls, the kind used for farm animals, but instead of animals in them there were plows, and in one there was a giant ladder for chickens to go up.  Most of the rooms contained furniture, like beautiful tables, or these great beds in the wall. To get to them it looks like you open a cupboard but inside is a bed! 

Also they had a small closed off room that Cedar loved, it just had a bed, a table, and a teapot.  The teapot had an interesting spout, it curved down and back up, and Cedar just stood there saying “A beautiful elephant teapot!”

The whole inside of the house was covered by blue and white hand painted tiles. 

 A long time ago Hans bought one of these tiles for Inge-Lise and it cost around 500 kr! (more than $80)  Also there was a room with very beautiful pottery, big vases made out of nice brown clay in a kind of jug style, just like the ones my uncle used to make. 

Also there was a room full of a really big chest, and little eating utensils. 

When we left we walked over to a tiny little building that we were told was the first school made when the law for “all people to have an education starting at age 6” was made.  All it had was 2 rooms, one small one for the teacher’s bed, and one bigger one made up of a long scratched up table, and a wood easel. 

Then we left to (we were told) go to a “little” playground.  We drove a bit and then we stopped at a truck stop, my mom looked around and immediately said “we are so getting the grandchild treatment.”  About a hundred feet away was about 13 blown up houses, to jump on and with obstacle courses, etc… 

there was also a bungee jump on a trampoline, and floating plastic bubbles on water. 

At first we thought buying tickets at the blown up places would pay for it all so Cedar and I both got tickets for that, but then I learned you had to buy the tickets separately so for me we got our money back and I went to the bungee jump.  When I got there I stepped on the trampoline and got strapped in and then hoisted up about 15 ft. and then it dropped me.  I was so fun, you would be in the air for 5 seconds!  When I was up there it felt like you could see for miles.

Also,  I could see Cedar going up stairs to a slide, and then sliding down the stairs. 

When I was done with that I went in the bubbles, they were my favorite thing there.  You would say you wanted to go in and so they’d pull one over and open it, then you would go in while it was deflated, and they would inflate it while you were still in it, you would stand up and not be able to touch the ceiling and suddenly they would push you off.  Once you were there you were always trying to stand up and run, the best I could get was 5 steps.  But the most fun was the falling, one second you would be in a position with heels over head, and it felt so good to fall, it felt like falling on plastic on top of jello!  But it felt like a green house in there!  So hot that you actually after a while want to come out!  So I went out and I walked over to where Cedar was and I saw Inge-Lise waiting for me with a slushie!  (Krap—see first day in Iceland). 

I stayed there drinking slushie, and eating scones.  I watched Cedar play a bit, and then she wanted to ride a pony.  When we got to the pony riding we learned that the parent led the pony around, so Cedar got on, and my mom led the pony around a third of the way and asked Cedar how she liked it, Cedar said it was great.  Two steps later Cedar was crying and forced my mom to carry her the rest of the way.  Then Cedar wanted to go in the bubbles with me, so we walked over there and Cedar said “actually, no.”  And she walked away when I went in for the second time. The man controlling it walked away, so my mom yanked me around, it was really fun, then we left. 

We got into the car to go to the beach.  When we got there we learned that here you’d drive to where you want to be, so the sand was as hard as pavement.  Immediately we saw kites, so we walked in that direction and saw kite surfers. 

Some people were going really fast, like 20-30 mph fast!  There was one person in particular who would turn around by jumping up 5 ft and angling her kite differently!  Then we got cold and had to leave. 

When we got back we had dinner and then a dessert of a red berry (cherry + strawberry + raspberry) porridge called Rødgrød med Fløde then we went to another room to have coffee and candy.

First Three Days in Copenhagen, by Alissa

After a week of travelling through the vast, rugged landscapes of Iceland and having only ourselves to talk to, we GORGED ourselves on social engagement in Copenhagen. Andrew played at the Jazz Festival, Max and Cedar quickly made friends at the first playground we encountered, we spent a good chunk of a day getting to know the folks who have graciously offered their home to us this week, feasted with more new friends, and spent Thursday with Brooklyn friends who are in Denmark, as well!  

Perhaps Andrew will write about the Jazz Festival. His gig was very late, so Cedar, Max, and I stayed home and contented ourselves with watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. We’re staying at the home of Bo Kruger, who I met through online professional networking I did prior to our trip. When Bo realized his family would be on vacation during our time in Copenhagen, he generously offered us the use of their home.

Yesterday, we had the great fortune of being able to spend some time with Bo and his family, before they took off. Bo and his wife Marianne Boye have a company called Moving Minds (www.movingminds.dk). They use many different kinds of interactive and improvisational techniques in meeting facilitation and training.  Bo has also written a couple of books about facilitation that make use of his Indiana Jones alter ego (www.kontoretsindianajones.dk). Thus, the entire Indie cinematic collection that Max is hoping to work his way through before the week is over!  
Max had a great time playing foosball with their 9 year old son, while their 12 year old daughter shepherded Cedar around and was greatly amused by her antics. Bo and I crammed in conversations about positive psychology, improvisation, and evaluation during any minute we weren’t needed by any of the four children!

Later that evening, we visited the home of Julie and Arne. Julie is a long-time friend of musician Jason Huang, and she hosted a beautiful traditional Danish summer dinner for us and about a half-dozen other friends.  We feasted on salmon, potatoes, peas-in-the-pod, and Rødgrød med Fløde, a strawberry and rhubarb pudding that is so difficult for outsiders to pronounce that it has become a favorite Danish pastime to ask foreigners to twist their tongues in their unsuccessful attempts. Julie and Arne’s son once travelled to England with another Danish kid for a soccer match and proceeded to have a hilarious time getting as many of the couple of hundred English kids they were hanging out with to contort their tongues around the impossible dish! Despite its inpronuncability and Julie’s insistence that her version didn’t have the right texture, I found Rødgrød med Fløde to be quite delicious.  

Hopefully Andrew will include a post detailing the many stories we heard from Julie and Arne’s friend Charlotte, whose husband was the founder of Copenhagen’s Montmartre Jazz Club in the 60’s. Wild, amazing stories of travelling the world with their 6 children, introducing new cousine to provincial Denmark (Italian pizza, French bread!), and generally approaching life with a deep sense of glee and adventure. Super inspiring.

We got home around midnight, stumbled into bed, and woke up early this morning for an outing to Sagnlandet Lejre (www.sagnlandetlejre.dk), a living museum and research center that has several “villages” illustrating life from the stone age, iron age, Viking times, and 19^th century. There, we met up with our Brooklyn friend Charlotte and her children, as well as Charlotte’s sister and children. Cedar was super excited to spend time with Charlotte’s daughter, who she knows from pre-school. Six children and four adults tromped all over, checking out blacksmithing, wool dying, traditional cooking techniques, wood carving, and many other crafts and skills. It was a feast for the senses.

Stone age hut

Cedar and I paddling away in a dug out stone age canoe

We interacted with both experts and ordinary families, on holiday in a most unusual and --especially from Max’s perspective-- entirely enviable manner. Families can sign up to live in one of the villages for a week, dressing, playing, and working in accord. Children run around barefoot in rough homespun clothing, while their parents cook and tend to daily needs. The center is open to the public for about 6 hours a day, but the families continue living in the past during the other hours as well. Max is now seriously envisioning our next vacation where he’ll get to hunt wild boar with his friends. Super fun!

The landscape was quite moving, too: rolling hills of new, green grain blowing in the soft wind, ocean-like in its wave action; forests of oak and scrub; cute little wild boar piglets (boarlets?) rooting around in the mud. 

Good times and we haven’t seen a lick of Copenhagen in three days! Tomorrow we’ll take it easy and do a little exploring.