The morning light illuminated a building on the corner with a tower also designed by Rosen

the whole streetscape an assemblage of distinctive masterpieces

After a light breakfast, a short tram ride took us to the downtown central square encircled by towered Victorian period buildings,

before one of which Jan posed to add to our collection of City Hall portraits.

The Radhuspladsen was still  free of the crowds, noise and litter that packed it later in the day, adding impact to its central fountain depicting the ferocious  and beautiful battle between a bull and a dragon.

Entering City Hall we were dwarfed by a grand rectangular space

adjoining a more modest chamber available at low cost for private weddings. In a corner near the entry, we noticed a cluster people preparing balloons, bags filled with food and bottles of champagne.

A couple of blocks away we found the National Museum and started in on the medieval collection, both of us having studied Anglo Saxon what seemed as far in the past as the material itself.  (Jan earned an M.A. in medieval comparative literature at Columbia in 1969).

Next to another fierce battle with a dragon, this one carved in wood, we were intrigued by the display of one of the earliest printed artifacts, an actual indulgence signed by the Pope’s representative in 1517 guaranteeing that the purchase by the living would shorten the term of torture in Purgatory of their dead friend or relative.

The massive promotion and sale of these early Crypto items was a major source of funds for the Catholic Church, and objection to the scam was a major energizer of the Protestant Reformation in Northern Europe. As we chortled knowingly over the case, we heard a loud voice from behind call out “Janet and Steven,” which I recognized immediately as belonging to Diana W., a fellow medieval literature student with Jan with whom we’ve had widely spaced connections since then in Canada and California.

Turns out she was in Copenhagen with her daughter who was attending an international conference. That brought the excursion in medieval history to an end with a lengthy catch-up session in the coffee shop.

After a late siesta in the hotel we took the tram to Krogers Familiehave a garden restaurant recommended by the driver from the airport the day before as a genuine Copenhagen hangout. The service was slow and the food forgettable, but the setting was lovely and we sat next to a large multigenerational multiracial family with whom we shared excited conversation.

Our decision to schedule travel during the summer rush was necessitated by Jan’s City Council meeting schedule. We made the conservative choice of Europe again because of our ages and shared youthful  reverence for its high culture: literature, philosophy, music, art, architecture. We picked  Scandinavia to avoid the heatwaves and fires feared for the south and because I’d never been there, though Jan had visited briefly during her sophomore year abroad. Our one personal connection was a long lost college roommate of hers whom she managed to arrange meeting for coffee one afternoon in Stockholm. We selected a tour format at the late date we reserved that would choose destinations, handle transport arrangements, book accommodations, and provide only a single half-day local tour in each country. And we arranged for two days before and after the tour to make our own way.

The trip began on a disastrous note.  The day before departure, when I tried to check-in to our flight purchased in May on Expedia for Copenhagen on United from SLO via San Francisco to Munich and then via United’s “partner” Lufthansa,  I was informed by a United agent that Lufthansa rejected the reservation because my first and last names had been reversed and could not be corrected at this late date. In order to carry through, we would have to lose our seats on the second leg and purchase new tickets from Munich from Baltic Air at last minute prices plus a bunch of penalties–for the additional cost of $7,000.  Knowing that delay would mean missing the tour and assuming this could be eventually resolved (it never was), we accepted the extortionate deal.

The approach to Copenhagen on a calm sunny day highlighted the flatness of Denmark’s topography and  vulnerability to sea-level rise.

We’d booked a room in the boutique Hotel Savoy for two nights preceding the Firebird Company Tour and upon arrival delighted in the art-nouveau style of its facade designed by Anton Rosen (1859-1928),

whose eminent status among Danish architects was confirmed by a big book in the lobby.

Excited by the new destination, I went exploring the neighborhood and found a park that surrounded a large lagoon full of people enjoying the sunset

Google Maps led me back to the hotel via a street passing right through a fanciful theatre building

On the other end of the passage a restaurant window sported the image of an exuberant waiter

Its adjoining window opened to living chefs gesturing with equal exuberance

October 22 2025

I met Ty last night at the brewery across the street in the San Luis Ranch Marketplace just returned from his monthlong trip to Europe. He’d been at a business conference in Cambridge and then on tours in Germany and the Low Countries and visiting a friend in Spain. Earlier in the day, I’d had coffee with Ken  who’d traveled in Europe for several weeks last Spring.  And the day before I’d received George’s brief account of his recent trip to Italy with Marta. Exemplifying the growing flood of tourism noted in the media, the chaos of oversubscribed and cancelled flights, the masses of people flowing through airports everywhere, these travel conversations revived memories of  our three week August trip to Scandinavia.

In the past, I’ve tried to memorialize and enrich travel experience in  photos and prose, but this year, perhaps because of some negative features of the trip, perhaps because I felt no one would be interested in yet another installment, perhaps because of laziness, I abandoned the formidable task of adding yet another blog to those already collected here.

This afternoon, while resting in preparation for a Zoom Homeowners’ Board Meeting, I recalled my agreement with Ty that we both were no longer up to the job. But instead of falling asleep I was smacked  by the thought that backing down on the writing was depreciating both the privilege and the investment the trip had required. The work of writing could re appreciate it and was a job I needed.

I should offer at the outset a note about pronouns.  The alternation of “we” and “I” in what follows reflects the nature of a lifelong partnership.  Much of it has involved an inextricable blend of two individuals and much has involved widely disparate outlooks and behaviors. The narrative in this account, however, is wholly my own, with the exception of Jan’s post on Bergen, Norway.

_________

Each picture on this site is linked to its own page in Flickr.  Double click on it to find options for size, resolution, or download.

After a hearty breakfast and checking out of the hotel, we received this email:

Somewhat disoriented, but aware of the widespread disorder in this summer’s flight scheduling and especially wary of British Airways’ unreliability, we scrambled to adapt. We were able to secure another night’s stay where we were.  Then we tried to secure seats on the next day’s United flight, having  had the past experience of being bumped from a confirmed reservation without them. By middle afternoon, Jan managed to speak to a United agent who would provide the seat numbers only after payment of a late fee of $450.

Now left with time on our hands but not much enterprise, we walked down the block in the opposite direction from the elegant French bistro toward the tuba sounds coming from  Munich’s largest beer hall and cliche tourist attraction, the Hofbrauhaus. The cavernous dining room was too loud, but we found a table at the small patio in front. There the day’s frustration was dissolved in traditional food and drink and amiable conversation with a young South Korean couple centered on the TV series “The Extraordinary Attorney Wu” and with our waiter, centered on his happy experience in migrating from Albania, settling here and making a family in Munich.

This was to be our last day in Europe before returning to San Luis Obispo.  Jan suggested we spend it at the Bavarian National Museum.  She was motivated by its large collection of  Tilman Riemenschneider woodcarvings, some of which, like the Franz Marc Blaue Reiter, she’d been taken with during her 1965 stay at Stanford in Germany.

We caught the Tram at Mariannenplatz, at first confused by its name’s similarity with Marienplatz, the city’s central square.  Across the street rose St. Lukas, a Lutheran rather than Catholic church, whose combination of Baroque and Art Nouveau styles reminded me of the Prinzregentstheater we were in the previous night.

Getting off at Maximillianstrasse, we waited to cross the street next to a young family in Bavarian garb on a Sunday Spatziergang who allowed me to take their picture.

Before entering the museum we stopped for lunch at its garden cafe.

It was still a long walk to the front entrance of the complex dedicated to the decorative arts and culture of the medieval and early modern periods.

Once inside, we got sidetracked by a labyrinth of exhibits of ivory carving, painted porcelain, filigreed silver and other gewgaws of the super-rich during the 18th and 19th centuries  before we got back on course to the 15th. (more…)

I rented a bike from the shop down the block to explore Munich’s extensive park, the English Garden, located  nearby.  Designed to resemble a natural landscape, its mature forests, wide meadows and rich water features were nevertheless meticulously maintained.

I hadnt ridden a non-electric bike in a couple of years, but the exertion felt good as did traveling the wide paths meant for both walkers and riders.

I came upon the artificial surf break I’d read about, lined on both sides with people and their boards waiting for a shot. None lasted more than a few seconds:

Signs in German and English proclaimed the Germans’ love of nature and their commitment to environmental action, though the translation of Habitat as “Lebensraum” had sinister echoes of the Nazi rationale for invading their neighboring states.

The meadow adorned with wildflowers reinforced the point that lawns are useful for sports but should share space with less artificial landscapes.

I sat on a bench for a while to watch locals enjoying the lake.

Looking for a cup of coffee I exited the park across from a building whose design lured me into its courtyard. It was was the home of “Munich Re,” the worldwide Reinsurance Company that insures other insurance companies for their losses. (more…)

I was longing to visit the Alte Pinakotek ever since I saw its collection mentioned on reproductions of paintings I saw in high school. The austere Renaissance style of the building seemed appropriate to house its  grand collection of  “Old Masters.”

The succession of galleries shrinking to a vanishing point gave an impression of limitless depth.

This portrait greeted us as we got out of the elevator.

We were looking for its most famous treasure, the self portrait of Albrecht Durer which served as the museum’s logo.

The understatement in the caption, “touches most viewers,” gained meaning as I stared.

as it seemed to do for others in the room.

(more…)

Jan proposed that we begin the day with a visit to the special exhibit entitled The Blue Rider: A New Language, at the Lenbach Haus, one of Munich’s modern art museums.

She was drawn by the painting of that name by the early 20th century artist Franz Marc she had encountered during her 1964-5 undergraduate residence at Stanford in Germany.

The exhibit highlighted the work of women artists, who have been previously overlooked. including wives and partners of the the famous innovators like Marc and Kandinsky, Here is one by Gabrielle Munter:

These included a powerful set of prints

The Blaue Reiter itself took prominence.

(more…)

The warm rain upon arrival in Munich didnt deter us from walking to the City Center after checking in at the small Hotel Concorde, located on a quiet street within proximity of major attractions in all directions.

At the Viktuallienmarkt or central farmers’ market (“open every day since 1807”) as the weather cleared, we enjoyed supper from a take-out fish restaurant at a tree-shaded table. It was too late to browse the market’s array of offerings but we could appreciate the 150 foot tall urban version of a traditional maypole.

Looking up, we were drawn by several baroque church steeples outlined against the sky, every  step opening dazzling new perspectives

Rounding a corner a new prospect came in view

and unfolded

(more…)

Next morning, before checking out I tried to cram in an ascent of the Kapuzinersberg. It started in a tunnel through the building to its base

and ascended past walls of the cloister built in 1600

signage about its geological formation

and episodes of its history (more…)