There's certainly something to be said for getting more patriotic the farther you get from home.

I don't think I ever really considered Anzac Day as anything more than a day off school until I left Oz.  Now I've been to two different Anzac services in two different countries.

A few years ago, we went to the dawn service at the Korean War Memorial in Washington, D.C.  (Kika and Dan's wedding was the night before.  We may have been still awake.  I hesitate to comment on our BAC.)

That was a pretty amazing experience, even considering the general fog I'm recalling it through.  I rather like the Korean War Memorial, and in the dawn light, it's even better.  Peter Costello was there and spoke, and I forgot my feelings on that man's politics for long enough to be damn impressed.

This year, I toddled off to the service at the Australian Ambassador's house.  A lovely spot on a hill in Charlottenlund.  It felt quite wrong to be having an Anzac Service in the daylight, with a nice view of Sweden.  (Then again, the days are getting long again here so sunrise would be at an hour more ungodly than usual.)

The Turkey was there.  (I'm operating under the assumption that "the Turkey" is an appropriate term to describe the Turkish Ambassador.  Like "Galactica Actual".)  He read that passage from Kemal Ataturk that ends with "You, the mothers, who sent their sons from faraway countries wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well.'  He stole the show.

In an effort to spread Australian goodness all over the world like pixie dust, I also made Anzac biscuits and took them to work.  Yep, I located the "oven" in that funny kitchen-room, and put things in it to be chemically altered with heat.

We're going through a spate of public holidays here at the moment and while Friday was a work day, there still weren't that many people around.  Because I made a triple batch of Anzac biscuits (it wasn't like I was going to be using the ingredients for other baking projects), the thought of coconut and/or golden syrup currently makes me mildy nauseated.

This past weekend was a long weekend (not for Cow Day, for something called "Big Prayer Day".  I made sure to pray.)  I didn't find any decent flights to interesting places, so I decided to take a bit of a jaunt around the Øresund.  Up to Helsingør, across to Helsingborg, up the Swedish coast to Göteborg for the night, back down to Lund for the next night, a stop in at Malmö and back to København.

The train trip to Helsingør was uninteresting due to it being largely my daily commute.  I waved at Work as I went by.

On the bit of Sjælland closest to Sweden, Helsingør is notable mostly for the fortress of Kronborg Slot.  Between Kronborg in Helsingør and Kärnan in Helsingborg, the Danes controlled access to the Baltic and collected tolls.  Apparently, it was pretty much legalised piracy.

Kronborg Slot is, incidentally, Elsinore Castle, but I saw no ghosts of dead kings while I was there.

From Helsingør, I caught the ferry across the Øresund to Helsingborg.  Big-ass ferries from about four different companies ply their trade back and forth across the 4km strait.  I can't imagine how busy it must have been before the Øresund bridge was built; it's still pretty crazy.  The lower booze prices on the Denmark side plays a significant role.  The fare was just 25kr, about the only bargain I've ever encountered in all of Scandinavia.  To put this in perspective: I've had coffees that cost twice as much.

In Helsingborg, I jumped on another train up to Göteborg.  (On the pronunciation front, I'd say that this name is evidence that it's not just Danish that is out to get you, but Swedish and Danish are so similar, it'd be the same original motive.  Anyway, it's pronounced "YOU-ti-bor".  Or "Gothenburg". Now try "Växjö".)

It took a bit over 2 hours to get up to Göteborg.  The train was crowded, the scenery wasn't super-interesting, and Göteborg looked like most other Scandinavian cities.  Struck by equal parts exhaustion and ennui, I thought longingly of my comfy bed just a few hours away.  Plus there was a funny smell in the air and a new episode of 'Battlestar Galactica' due.  So I hopped back on the train and went home again.

Instead of Göteland and Skåne, my weekend ended up being mostly about my couch and the inside of my eyelids.

Sunday was Cow Day here in Denmark.

Yes, I had no idea what it was either.  Claus enlightened me: apparently cows are kept indoors during winter, and the day they're let out into the fields is Cow Day.

The reason that this is a big draw is that the newly freed cows act like total nutbars.  Think dog after bath.

I didn't go, but Claus brought back pictures!

Claus' write-up and further pics can be found here.  In part:

I går var køernes dag. Det var dagen hvor køer der producerer økologisk mælk kom på græs for første gang i går. På vanlig vis var det et tilløbsstykke med masser af mennesker og i også med dejligt vejr

For those not fluent in Danish, I shall translate:

Today was Cow Day. It was the day when cows that produce organic milk go onto grass for the first time.  On something we were it a something with something (lots?) of people and also with lovely weather.

Damn, my Danish is excellent.

o hai i heer it snowd in Seeatel.

Scandinavia let me sho u eet!

It's clear.  This is the cutest nephew in the world.  (If not the cutest, then the second cutest, and we all know who the other contender is...)

 
(Photo credit: The Sister.)

• Ridiculous prices, Disneyfication and boredom at what should be the impressive Warwick Castle.  Screw you, Madam Tussard people.
• Almost getting blown off the top of the hill while inspecting the Uffington White Horse
• Devonshire tea in Devon and Cornish pasties in Cornwall (Shut up, Yammy!  I do not always talk about food!  I also talk about weather.)
   
• King Arthur stomping ground in Tintagel
• Keeping a wary eye out for swashers and bucklers in Penzance
• The Mont St-Michel-"inspired" St Michael's Mount.  *cough*rip-off*cough*
• Ditching Land's End due to further Disneyfication
• Getting trapped in the crowded winding streets of St Ives.  It turns out the answer is that there were many going to St Ives. 
• Easter Vigil at Winchester Cathedral, seated next to Jane Austen's grave.  Yep, went to the service.  Very haunting choir music in a pitch dark thousand year old cathedral.  We ditched after two hours (at only page 10 of 24) and went to find booze.  Ah, religion.
• Dover's White Cliffs, which we didn't see very well, because we followed the signs and ended up on them instead.
• Lunch with Rohan and Neil in Deal.  Hey, that rhymes.
• Canterbury Cathedral in the twilight.
• Leeds Castle.  I'd like to have a drink sometime with Lady Baillie.
• Sandwiches.  The Poms are good at sandwiches. (Shut up!)

Yesterday, six robbers used a forklift to smash down the wall of a money transport firm in Copenhagen and, armed with submachine guns and rifles, stole 30 million kroner.  They made their escape in three Audis.  They scattered nails in their wake, causing four pursuit police cars to pull up with flat tyres.  To help their getaway, they also planted a bomb at a nearby train station that caused road shut downs and further distraction.

• Spiegel totally stole my joke about this sounding like the plot to Ocean's Fourteen.  It would have been even better if they used Minis so it could be The Danish Job.
• As skilled as they are at making clever movie references, Spiegel get a FAIL for their picture - apparently 30 million kroner look a lot like euros.
• All reports agree that the Audis had foreign plates, though they're variably Swedish, Polish or German.  I like the latter, due to the high level of organisation; Mark agrees, but due to car choice:"The good taste to drive Audis says it's Germans. Otherwise it would have been Volvos or Ladas. A bit of national pride during a heist is never misplaced."
• Alternate theory: Danish.  Apparently, this incident was very similar to ones in Malmö and Gothenburg.  I could see Danes practising on Swedes.
• Naveen thinks laundering 30 million kroner in a little country like Denmark would be tough.  I think it's a problem I'd like to have.