Copenhagen, episode 6. In which I deal with great unexpectations.

As I have shared with you over the years, my trip planning process usually starts with some tiny kernel of a craving, some quick glimpse of a location in a movie or on a television show. From there, it makes it into my travel journal and eventually onto its own page for the beginning of one of my famous lists. That's when the research and (over)planning begins.

Copenhagen made it onto our travel radar because of our relatively recent love affair with cruising.

Mari and I celebrated our 20th anniversary with a cruise around the Hawaiian islands.

We had been aching to return to Hawaii (and the amazing Aloha Stadium Swap Meet, of course) since our first visit about five years prior and we decided to take advantage of Norwegian Cruise Line's seven-day cruise (departing 50 sunny Sundays per year from Honolulu) that visits four Hawaiian islands.

After that first cruise, Mari and I were absolutely hooked and began looking for more cruises we could experience with NCL during our summer vacations from teaching and that's how Copenhagen blipped upon our travel radar.

You can learn more about the wide range of NCL cruises by visiting their easy-to-navigate site. The site includes loads of helpful travel information about NCL port cities including links to port hotels.

ncl.com

We have learned from experience that you will want to plan at least a full night's stay in port the day prior to sailing in case unexpected delays and/or seemingly intentionally unhelpful Delta Air Lines agents reroute you from Dallas to Seattle via Atlanta (!!!) after you are bumped from your original direct (overbooked) flight because you were flying with bonus miles.

Just remember, ain't no cruise ship waitin' for nobody except the captain

(and we will never fly Delta again).

That photo of us on Maui was taken in June of 2010 by a couple from Georgia with whom we exchanged cameras throughout a day tour of the Hana coast, along a precariously scenic route whose navigation I was happy to entrust to the tour company's expert van driver. It is one of the most scenic overlooks we have ever chosen not to overlook but fully embrace instead.

But I digress (again). We were in Copenhagen last summer and excited to finally set sail on our Baltic cruise after an excitingly full fleamarket foodie weekend. First stop, Warnemünde, Germany, with a scheduled day trip to Berlin where I would finally have my moment with the border-bashing but historic remnants of the Berlin Wall. Unfortunately, like last year's delayed-delayed-denied NYC Spring Break trip to see Hamilton, Mother Nature had other plans for my congested agenda. A storm's resulting rough waters prevented our ship from safely approaching the harbor of the charmingly small seaside resort village and we instead spent our first full day "at sea" exploring the ship and enjoying its amenities. A further delayed entry into port the following day kept us grounded in Warnemünde, with all excursions to Berlin cancelled.

Now, you know I like cancelled about as much as I like delayed which is indeed not very much at all. I was further disappointed that the next day's scheduled stop in Tallinn, Estonia would also necessarily be cancelled so that we could arrive in Saint Petersburg on schedule.

When you cruise, you are at the mercy of unpredictable weather as much as you are blessed by nature's infinite majesty. Although disappointed, we were thankful to be in the safe hands of NCL's expert crew and in the comfort and care of the ship's wonderfully dedicated and supportive staff.

Our unexpected and unplanned visit to Warnemünde turned out to be anything but unpleasant as Mari and I enjoyed sightseeing the picturesque village as we explored its historic buildings and visited local merchants. With the provincial population doubled for the day with two cruise ships in port and no out-of-town excursions planned, Mari and I tried our best to carve out our own special moments to remember. It wasn't too difficult.



Click on my YouTube video above to watch some of my video footage from that morning. It's about three and a half minutes long and includes some beautiful scenery from the very scenic seaside village of Warnemünde, Germany.

Lest I forget, here are two purchases we made from a very temptingly chock-a-block antiques shop.

Mari's little friend (you'll see them sitting together on the bench in the video) was standing guard out front.

It was only the first stop on our cruise (and we still had Iceland and London beyond) so I had to carefully limit myself. There were five other beautifully and uniquely patterned Bavarian bone china snack sets (teacup, saucer, dessert plate) that I sadly left behind for five other Warnemünde Besucher (visitors) to recollect for all of eight euros per set.

Mari was drawn to this expertly embossed petite pewter vase (just over four inches tall) which I've photographed from its three different angles so you could appreciate the delicate detail surrounding the beautifully crafted vessel.

A colorfully full two days with little to no unexpectations in St. Petersburg are next on our itinerary.

Copenhagen, episode 5. In which we go local.

If you watched last week's fleamarket video clip, here is the selfie Mari and I snapped that gloriously sunny Sunday afternoon following our marvelous market morning at Ravnsborggade. The final dozen (I'm not kidding) items I purchased that morning came from yet another secondhand shop. There's a story (of course).

A few years back when SpikeTV was still SpikeTV, Mari and I got hooked on the sadly short-lived reality program Thrift Hunters.

The hunters in question were two Vegas buddies who scoured thrift stores, antique malls, estate sales, garage sales (sound familiar?) in search of treasure that they would then resell online. The 2014 series' sixteen episodes were not only popular entertainment in our home at the time of their accidental channel-surfing discovery, but also provided valuable and practical tips for finding value in the undervalued.

While Mari and I don't often purchase with the intent to resell, there are times when newer old collectibles catch our eye and find their way into overcrowded collections at home leading to an occasional "we're bursting at the seams" yard sale purge or eBay liquidation.

My typewriter ribbon tin collection is currently on the verge thanks to last fall's Rose Bowl visit, but I'm not quite ready to admit that yet.

(Hence the italics.)

What does my walk down cable TV memory lane have to do with my last 12 items purchased on fleamarket Sunday in Copenhagen you ask?

Almost there.

Thanks to self-proclaimed Thrift Hunters Jason and Bryan, Mari and I became aware of the Savers chain of thrift stores and the two Austin locations have become regular stops for us during our travels to that familiarly favorite city. On our very first visit a few years ago to the North Austin store, I hit pay dirt and found a new, unused, bright red enamel fondue pot with wooden handle. Approaching the register with what I considered an unbelievable eight-dollar bargain, I was further dumbfounded to realize its bright green tag meant that my bargain basement vessel would soon be melting away in my home at half-price.

Four dollars for fabulous fondue!

Leave it to Mari to be the voice of reason and ask this excited bargain hunter the silliest of all silly questions, "What are you going to do with a fondue pot without fondue forks?"

Beloved voice of reason notwithstanding, the bright red future vessel for melted Swiss cheese and Belgian chocolate (not on the same evening, of course) sat at the back of a shelf in the kitchen pantry for two frustratingly full fondue seasons until... that's right.. an authentic, still-in-box, glistening set of 12 fondue forks (six for cheese, six for chocolate) seemed to stand at unbelievably bolt upright attention on a sardined shelf of kitchen miscellany in the back room of a Copenhagen thrift store. Although costing about twice the price of my original severely-discounted Savers' windfall, my newfound Danish deal would finally bring my shiny red fondue pot to the front of my pantry and melty cheese and/or chocolate to my waiting palate.

I know that was a long way to go (literally and metaphorically) for fondue forks, but it was such a perfect payoff for this collector. Needless to say, past travels had taught me that those pointily-pronged implements would necessarily remain tucked safely away in my checked baggage until I could rejoin them with their awaiting American culinary cohort.

Be sure to visit the Savers site to learn more about their innovative community programs and their dedication to keeping once-loved items out of landfills. We are hoping to visit a new-to-us tropically-located Savers location during our upcoming summer travels.

savers.com

Finally leaving the Ravnsborggade flea behind, Mari and I found ourselves fairly famished as one of Copenhagen's convenient and charming sidewalk cafes opened itself up to our cravings for local fare and nourishment. We were excited to sample several smørrebrød along with a refreshingly restorative fruity elixir as we rested and reflected on our busy fleamarket morning. Smørrebrød is a traditional Danish open-faced sandwich served on heartily grainy dark rye bread (always a favorite for this New Yorker, of course). The toppings are any tempting combination of gourmet goodies, usually very fresh and delicately savory.

I stuck with a traditional smoked salmon with fresh dill while Mari was tempted by an unusual combination of fingerling potatoes and micro greens.

Living in the tropically humid climes of South Texas, we are not often able to enjoy an outdoor meal, especially in the summer, so we were thrilled to take advantage of the breezy sidewalk table, deliciously fresh local fare, and the warm and friendly service to which we were quickly growing accustomed.

We snapped the remarkably unretouched colorful photos above after unloading our fleamarketed treasures back at the Admiral then carefully avoiding the character-filled beams following a quick disco nap.

Discotheques are not usually etched in our post nap agenda, mostly just more sightseeing but always with a disco flair.

Unsurprisingly, the Sunday afternoon harbor area was buzzing with families enjoying the beautiful summer day.

Several cruise ships were sailing the following day and Copenhagen was chockablock with foreign visitors taking full advantage of Danish delights.

During our meanderings about the city, Mari and I were surprised to stumble upon a familiar favorite from our college days where we stocked up on bottled water. Cruise ships have been funny about bottled water lately, so check with your specific cruise line about how much bottled water (if any) your are allowed to bring aboard. (That is so not our rental car by the way.)

We get ready to board next time as we make the most of unexpected (you know how much I hate unexpectations!) itinerary adjustments.

Copenhagen, episode 4. In which I'm culinary for Copenhagen.

Here, Mari is tearing herself away from a Sunday morning browse for a quick pose. The sidewalks and streets are easily turned into casual shopping venues in Copenhagen's Ravnsborggade neighborhood. It's not just local businesses with sidewalk sales, either, but locals setting up collectible and household bursting-at-the-seams sales. Truth be told, Mari and I did a great deal of browsing that morning, but I think Mari made the only purchase from a street vendor, a handcrafted bracelet to add to her "fledgling" jewelry collection.

Those air quotes surrounding my sarcasm may save me a scolding from Mari later.

The Ravnsborggade street market reminded us of weekend shopping along Portobello Road, although not as densely crowded as the London neighborhood. Many local vendors set up tables and stands streetside with tempting treats and, of course, you are more than welcome to browse inside the shops as well. The Copenhagen shops, however, lean more towards secondhand (my favorite!) than antiques, but you'll find a few hidden treasures, too, among the relics.

Click on my YouTube video above to watch some of my video footage from that morning. It's only three minutes long and includes some reflections on our fleamarketing experience as well as some beautiful views of my newest favorite old city.

Aside from the futuristic egg cup I shared with you on Easter, I made a few other purchases for my kitchen and dining room. I don't always search for (or find) collectibles when fleamarketing, but there are certain items that meet my collector's gaze and regardless of their inherent value they become invaluable to me. You have also probably noticed over the years that Mari and I necessarily limit ourselves to small, packable (oh-so-bubble-wrappable) items when we fleamarket travel. Once you have learned to accept that limitation, then the (friendly) sky's the limit (as long as you stay TSA-friendly).

Pictured below are two more purchases I made that Sunday morning. At right are four stacked bright orange melamine plates with a slightly upturned lip on one side. These have become endearingly dubbed our "doughnut" plates because, as you can guess, they are the perfect size to hold a double-chocolate Dunkin' Donuts delight (complete with hole). Yes, that is my favorite doughnut (second only to the Reykjavik DD's double-Nutella variation) despite the fact that DD sanctions simplified spelling.

Don't get me started, but...

...you make a doughnut from "dough," not from "do."

Regardless of the DD chain's grammatical intentions, my favorite doughnut tastes even better when presented (however temporarily) on the citrus hues of my Copenhagen fleamarket find.

Alongside the set of doughnut plates is a pair of blood orange melamine salad tongs picked up at another seductively overstuffed secondhand shop.

I didn't exactly need another set of salad tongs (many a healthily decadent salad is prepared and savored in our home in advance of fleamarket-plated sweet treats), but the artfully simple Danish design struck a cord with me and a little more foodie flair in the kitchen never hurt nobody.

Speaking of foodie, I offer you the remnants of my Saturday evening meal, our first night in Copenhagen.

Beautifully fresh (and fleshily-full when initially served), the entree formerly known as plaice (flounder) meuniere was lightly pan fried with capers, lemon, and browned butter.

The dish is characteristic of the SALT menu which seems to feature traditional local food and recipes, but presented in a modern manner. SALT bar & restaurant is located on the ground floor of the Admiral Hotel with a rotating menu that takes tastefully full advantage of fresh local ingredients. Aside from our extravagantly fresh dinner celebrating our first evening in Copenhagen, Mari and I enjoyed a beautifully bountiful breakfast buffet in the mornings with an abundance of fresh local produce, breads, pastries, and charcuterie (smoked meat and fish for breakfast? yes, please).

Many thanks to my seafood-loving mom for showing me

how to delicately dismember plated piscine prey.

You can access the restaurant site by first visiting the Admiral site or by going directly to the savorily-tempting SALT site. (I'm NOT screaming at you, by the way, it's just how they spell it.)

saltrestaurant.dk/en

More treats from the Danish capital next time.

Copenhagen, episode 3. In which we are hit over the head with local character.

Here I am, again, posing happily at one of many eclectically charming fleamarket stops along Copenhagen's Ravnsborggade Sunday street market. I had just finished trying on those skates, hoping they would give me an advantage over other shoppers, but they were metric and my feet are decidedly and conventionally American.

Mari would NEVER have let me buy roller skates.

Can you imagine the kind of trouble I could get into?!

By the way, you're going to see this snappy little marketing "ensemble" for the next few posts because this all did take place on the same Sunday morning. I'm not sure when I became that guy, you know the one, who wears plaid shirts, but I think it works. Plaid is good for traveling, too, because the pattern hides potential stains that are problematic when you are at the beginning of your travel-laundry-Algebra shirt-wearing-cycle and must wear your plaid shirt with funny little stain one more time four days in the future (Tide stain stick is always a must in my overpacked dopp kit).

Before heading back to our morning flea, I wanted to take a moment and recommend the Admiral Hotel.

Mari and I enjoyed some Copenhagen time pre and post cruise at the Admiral and were thrilled with the location and quality of service but were especially excited to be staying in such a historic building.

Originally constructed as a warehouse for grain storage, the 230-year-old beauty is located right on the harbor with awesomely colorful southeastern views towards the marina and opera house and just a one-mile stroll along the bay from the Little Mermaid statue where busloads of luck-seeking tourists await curious contemplation.

Here's a view of the back of the Copenhagen Opera House as seen from the back of the Admiral.

Simply serenely sublime!

admiralhotel.dk/en

The hotel's website features some beautiful photographs as well as a historic rendering of the bay area. You can also read up on some of the building's history including details of the original "characteristic beams" visible throughout public areas and in most of the 366 guest rooms.

Here's a shot of the character that greeted us as we walked into our first (pre-cruise) room. Mari came up with a great idea to tape a large note to the beam to warn us to duck as we moved about the room. Fortunately, we survived the not-so-subtle charming character pre-cruise and the beams in our post-cruise room were thankfully better suited for early morning restroom visits sans contact lenses.

The Admiral reminded us of the 120-year-old Molino Stucky in Venice where we also enjoyed a stay before a Mediterranean cruise five years ago. That building was originally a flour mill then a pasta factory. Instead of characteristic beams, there was a characteristic "tunnel" quality to the rooms with rounded edges where the ceilings met the walls.

Needless to say, we love character.

One of the things I love about being my own travel guru is the ability to search the internet for precise hotel locations and to see what amenities are available within walking distance of hotel environs: shops, restaurants, markets, churches... palaces...

You may laugh, but we were actually on the same block as the Amalienborg Palace complex, home to the Danish royal family. That's two of the Royal Life Guards standing watch towards the left of my photo. The Guards have served the royal family at the palace since 1785.

A changing of the guard ceremony occurs at noon daily, preceded by a procession from nearby Rosenborg Castle. With the king and queen in residence, this march through town turns tourist spectacle with the addition of the King's Guard and a marching band.

We were, unfortunately, the only royalty in town during our stay, so we marched to the beat of our own drum.

Plan your visit and learn more about the palaces housed in the

pedestrian friendly palace square by visiting the well-documented site.

kongernessamling.dk/en/amalienborg

I know I teased you last time with a short market video, but I promise we'll start there next time as I share a few more treats picked up at Ravnsborggade.

Copenhagen, episode 2. In which I hunt for Easter egg cups.

Here I am doing my best to look like a casual shopper among the colorful display of secondhand goods set up in front of a row of Copenhagen vintage shops.

Mari and I were thrilled to enter the browsing flea fray (once we had finally found our way).

Despite my printed map of the area, our excitement led us to walk a little too far past Ravnsborggade (that's the name of the street and neighborhood) and we ended up walking in a big circle circumscribing the area we actually wanted to find. Kind of like every time I'm driving Mari somewhere I've never been, but I'm positive I know where I'm going.

Always stay positive!

(especially if you know you're wrong)

If you do find yourself in Copenhagen on a Sunday (pre- post- or in-lieu-of cruise), do yourself a favor and immerse yourself thoroughly in the Ravnsborggade street market. The street is already colorfully and historically lined with secondhand stores and antiques shops, but Sundays bring out even more local vendors (streetside and in a large parking lot) who were a little surprised to find way-out-of-towners like us rummaging their reserves. The market is just across Queen Louise's Bridge which you will find a few beautifully walkable blocks west of the National Gallery, Rosenborg Castle, and the Botanical Garden (all of which were themselves a leisurely beautiful walk from the Admiral Hotel, our temporary Danish home--more about the Admiral next time).

The atmosphere that Sunday morning was bright and boisterously friendly with lots of families exploring the streets and searching for bargains. It will always remain one of my most favorite fleamarket experiences despite the fact that we made only a few purchases. Fleamarketing is not always about closing a deal, as you know, but about the joy of the search.

Since it is Easter Sunday, I thought I would share with you one particularly appropriate item rescued that Sunday morning.

Happy Easter!

Funny thing is I don't like soft-boiled eggs. One of my earliest food memories is actually an aversion to eggs I developed the summer before my 5th birthday that lasted for about six months. It happened during our first family visit to my father's family farm in Portugal in the summer of 1971. Without getting into too much memorable detail, I accidentally witnessed my mom killing a chicken.

"Kill" sounds kind of strong, but slaughter may be just a bit dramatic,

although technically accurate.

All I remember now is feathers everywhere and that entire summer the eggs tasted funny. Maybe because they were fresh?

Somewhere in time, however, I managed to become a collector of egg cups despite my early culinary barnyard trauma.

I'll see about gathering all of the egg cups up for a photo shoot, maybe in time to celebrate Easter next year. Some of them are on display in the kitchen curio and some reside in long-term holiday hibernation.

As I was setting the Easter collectibles out recently, I remembered the newest addition to our breakfast accoutrement collection.

Don't laugh, but the blood-orange and white plastic egg cup jumped out at both Mari and me on a crowded glass shelf in the front window of a small secondhand shop just as we were beginning to flea that first Sunday morning in Copenhagen.

Miss Æggebæger is displaying one of my favorite Easter collectibles for her photo shoot, a floral polka-dotted golden paper-mâché visual treat we've had in long-term holiday hibernation for over two decades.

Although my days of dying and coloring Easter eggs are long behind me (with many thanks to gal pals Marcie and Peppermint Patty for their invaluable instruction), I do enjoy the colorfully creative bounty of an Easter egg and the cup on which it perches. As a result of visits to Europe over the years, Mari and I have also come to realize that soft-boiled eggs are a popular breakfast staple, so much so that any department store, home store, vintage shop, even grocery stores, will have some variety of egg cup to make the work of the most important meal of the day as visually pleasing as it may be delectably satisfying (if you go for that sort of thing).

I'll gather all my egg cups (and stories) for an Easter basket special next year, I promise.

In the meantime, I tease you with our first fleamarketed Danish souvenir, the 15 krone (about $2.50) egg cup that reminded me of something that belonged in The Jetsons' kitchen.

More culinary treats next time along with a short video summary of our Ravnsborggade fleamarket morning.