In which Denmark is overjiggled with jellyfish.

The morning began ominously with a gray, blanketed sky and cold wind off the sea. Not optimal for a planned chill-on-the-beach-and-do-nothing day. Some apricot walnut pancakes were concocted to try and buy us some time while pleading with the summer to come back, which unfortunately hadn't happened by the time the Pfannekuchen had been demolished. So! New plan: leave the country. To the north!

Weyll, technically to the west and then north and then east, but whatever. Hopped in the car and hopped back out shortly before all the signs donned the Danish. Flensburg is the last German stronghold before the border and, as I had only experienced it at night on the one night of the year (the first night... or the last) when everything is exploding and the streets stumble over themselves with intoxicateds, I wanted to take another peek.

A lovely Stadt, but a little droopy in the sudden cold weather. We had a look into one church where a wedding was about to take place and I was a bit spooked out by how dark and dreary it was, each corner creeping with shadows, hardly brightened by the symmetric, tacky white flowers dressing the pews. We did, however, see lotsa fancy schmancy people on their way there as we were leaving, which certainly lightened the mood.

Nuffa that -- gimme some exotic lands! Up, up and across the border and into sporadic sunshine we drove. Slowly the color started sneekling back into the landscape and above as we made our way along the bay.

Landfall was made in sunny Sønderborg, a slowly touristifying town in a prime location. The wonderful colors of the buildings were made juicier still by the now-constant and fluff-speckled blue sky. There didn't appear to be too much going on as we drove in, but an eager opening of the car door let in the sound of a teenage choir rocking out on the other end of the parking lot. I hustled over to see what the bustle was all about and discovered we'd arrived just as a music festival was getting underway, brought to you by joint German and Danish schools on both sides of the border. I was particularly excited when one of the blonde teenage girls nailed Beyonce's key changes. All the parents standing around were impressed, too.

A stroll along the harbor revealed many amusing sights -- doggies napping in the backs of boats, persons napping in the back of boats, people sitting in windows while slurping up as much sunlight as possible, everywhere bicyclists, boat parades lined up and waiting for the drawbridge to Inceptionize (two points if you get that reference) and allow them passage -- cowboys in cute, curtained boats (!), a woodsculptor sculpting, smiling.

 

The harbor peters out to make way for a fortlike castle of sorts, rocking its many shades of red, windows blue with sky and grounds as green as could be. Further still and you find yourself back at the water and, in this case, in the water -- water that was clear clear clear and shimmery above its extensive and colorful palette of stones, some of which were sparkling themselves. Occasionally a jellyfish would jiggle by, blubbing its way over toes and feeling oh, so silly.

A swing back toward the downtown led us past a middle school band honking out SMOOOKE ON THE WAAATER, NUH NUH NUUUH, NUH NUH NUU-UUHHH!!!!
Kind of like I did in middle school. Yeah, that was awesome.

[ < reminisce > ... </ reminisce > ]

Fully pepped, we continued up one of the windey hills into the commercialier district and found -- not much. More colorful buildings, nice afternoon lighting, a creepy ice cream statue, and hardly a soul in sight. Unusual for a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

Confuddled and slightly paranoid that we were in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, we rejoined the remaining humans we could find back down at the harbor, passing a restaurant advertising PULLED PORK SANDWICH(es) -- DEN AMERIKANSKE KLASSIKER ca. 20 cm for 35 DKK (six and a half bucks or so), complete with a picture of Uncle Sam with a cartoon beak and wattle saying "TRY IT NOW! TRY IT NOW!" Ääähhm. How can we prove to the world that all these stereotypes are not true (at least not entirely) when they keep being otherwise enforced?

I didn't have time to be ponder such issues of national identity before being distracted by ice cream and thousands of jellies jellying along, seemingly ballerinaing like salty plum fairies to the conducting of my dangling footies. A satisfying end to one adventure or a great beginning to the next.

Some time later, back in the Deutschland, a quick Supermarket stop was shopped and jazzed up by adorable children and some wandering water fowl, also adorable and even more ridiculous.

That already adventuresome day came to a slow end with a nocturnal beach excursion. T'was already past 11 p.m. but as it was not yet dark, it was decided that we should get as much out of the latenite summer light as possible before it disappeared for another year. Discoveries: golden windows, subtle sunset residue, an angler (who, after much speculation, did turn out to be a live person), wind on the waves, wind in the grasses, wind blowing all the twinkly little skyspecks into the night.