August 17, 2016
The day did not bode well. We had planned to hop on the ferry to the island of Aeros around midday. The good thing was that most tourists had gone home, and they had cut the ferry fees in half. The bad thing was that they fully booked their ferries. We had our reservations all set at this charming 18th century thatch-roofed farmhouse near the village of Aeroskobing, and how were we going to get there? We ended up negotiating our way out of our difficulties by driving half an hour to another harbor, waiting for several hours, and finally getting on board. Fortunately it was a fart faerie (it means “fast”, and yes, we did resort to 6-year-old humor to while the time away).
Upon arrival to the port, our driving time to our destination had doubled. Still resilient of spirit and in good humor as a result of our prolonged engagement fart-faerie-f-word humor, we set out to find the place. Meanwhile, we tried eight times to connect with Michael on Skype and show him our idyllic new abode. We failed. This was a bad omen.
Throughout the land, golden fields of wheat and grass were being shorn. Farm machinery was on the move, furiously mowing and threshing, piling, baling and hauling. We urbanites enjoyed it for the first five minutes. Then, I began to sneeze, drip, run and tear. Those old allergies that I thought were a thing of the past, blew in with a vengeance. I finally contained myself, my face wrapped with so much kleenex, I looked like a wounded veteran of foreign wars. Bing! Michael came through. Just in time for the dramatic first view of our new place. What fun! The dialogue went something like this: “Oh, I think it’s just up ahead. . . Google maps says we’re here…No, it can’t be right… That’s because it isn’t…(Other chit chat as the winding drive continues.) Here it is! This is IT! This is it? …What are we in for?…Where is the entrance? … How do we get in? …OMG…” At this point, Michael had to go to work.
Well, we did get a text from our host telling us to go into the old stable to find the key. We hardly could tell which building was intended for horses and which one was for us. After clever finagling with the old key, the door opened. I went in with no problem. Martin, however, being 6 foot 3, had to double over like an appendicitis victim in order to enter the doorway. Even I had to concede that these ceilings were designed by midget demons. Not only that, but every time one entered a new room, there was a 6-inch threshold to trip on. It was a strange warp of time to enter this house. Flooring transitioned from bleached wood to tile to thread-bare rooming house carpet without warning. Antique painted wood china cabinet coexisted with Ikea futon couch. A wooden country kitchen table shared space with a glass coffee table held up with wheels which had been removed from a bed frame. The bed mattresses which were not intended for us lay naked in their striped ticking. This was not the best of Danish design.
Martin travels with every imaginable electronic device, cable, and plug. (Not a surprise, knowing his former profession.) Also true to his engineering nature, the first thing he does in a strange place is to investigate every light switch and electric socket. The afternoon light was rapidly dimming. The windows were small. This was a prudent notion. Half an hour later, he had still not figured out how to turn the kitchen lights on. This was not an auspicious sign. My nose was dripping. I was afraid I might electrocute myself if I assisted. Things were really not looking good.
Well, you may be wondering at the title of this story, “The Best Thing Today”. It is, simply put, that one thing that can put right all ills of the day — that thing called “Dinner”. We fled the place, twisted our way into town and flung ourselves through the courtyard gates of a place called — yes, it’s true — “Nunm”. We had a bottle of wine and one of the best dinners of our whole trip.
We drove through a copse of tall trees, past elaborately patterned brick barns and horses grazing near shady ponds. We then found ourselves on a dirt road, wondering what the heck we were doing there. Then we came upon the house. Suddenly, we knew why we were there. It quietly stood beyond its lawn and its ancient tree, welcoming us to come forth. Our hosts appeared on the porch. We had found our new home.
Every morning required a stroll down the vast green lawn to the quiet waters of the fjord. Along the way, we gathered raspberries and blackberries. We must have consumed the equivalence of $60 US Dollars in berries – growing in huge hedges that went all the way down to the sea.
We wasted a lot of US minutes staring at the sky. The home was blessed with a wall full of windows and doors going out to the sea. The island is blessed with wind, rain, sun, rainbows and the most astounding clouds.
