Lies I’ve Told My 3 Year Old Recently
Trees talk to each other at night.
All fish are named either Lorna or Jack.
Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose.
Tiny bears live in drain pipes.
If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky.
The moon and the sun had a fight a long time ago.
Everyone knows at least one secret language.
When nobody is looking, I can fly.
We are all held together by invisible threads.
Books get lonely too.
Sadness can be eaten.
I will always be there.
These are the cats. Lilu and Loki. The black and white beautifully underlines the red color of Loki.
Mamiya 67 pro
Kodak TriX 400
Ilfotec LC29 1+19
Day three of our infamous weekend trip to the danish capital!
We recall: Doro and I flew to Copenhagen to meet Katja to look at a number of buildings conveniently placed together to house a mass of people that live together and proclaim their settlement as a capital of a land mass limited by invisible borders.
The third day started with a nice breakfast provided by the generous Katja. We had fruits. We hade vegetables. We had bread. And stuff.
If this arouses you, you not only have a problem, you’re also lucky to get more food porn later in this post.
Ewww, who let this in?
Off we went, to see some part of the city, that is not that much overrun by tourists. We wanted to be the only tourists, the two to rule them all.
We started in an area that featured several nice large places, each themed differently, but all provided some recreational facilities for the local people. The first place was called “The black Place” which described it pretty well. The only better name would have been “The black place with white lines, a small hill and some barbecue places. Oh and Chess sets”. This is a bit long, but forms the nice acronym TBPWWLASHASBPOACS. Much better.
The next place was red. Fittingly, it had some Cyrillic lettering, a sparring ring, some other sporting sport stuff sports, and swings. It was fairly crowded, so I guess the danish people do not miss any grass, as Doro was pointing out. The whole area was mostly covered in concrete. Good for skating. Not so good for sand castles.
I messed around with this one to edit it to a more russian look. I doubt that I succeeded.
Katja, hiding from the vicious sun (that is the yellow ball hiding behind the grey clouds, in case you live in Berlin)
They let nature destroy perfectly good concrete. Fools.
During winter it gets so cold, that danish people have to knit protection for trees.
This is so underground.
This was in small street that featured several nice restaurants and small shops. This specific one had about a dozen people in chef outfits sitting and dining. And it smelled incredibly good there.
There is no way a shop window could be better decorated than with a bunch of action man figurines.
A sign in the small street. Everything you could ever want is there.
This is the national flag.
Near the center is a nice park, that only at second glance is in fact a graveyard. People are picnicking, walking their dogs and taking sunbaths on top or near the graves. The grave culture is also quite different. Having a set of clay penises on your grave is just as normal as laminated photos of the deceased and large columns. And we saw Hans Christian Anderesen’s grave. It was made of stone.
The bike is dead, jim.
Food porn. Finally. I’ll give you a minute.
This was at the place we stayed the day before, the bookshop/library/bar/restaurant/working space. Really good salmon, smorebrod and eating stuff to eat.
We made again some good mileage that day. It was a nice day. It was our last day with Katja as she left for Amsterdam.
Little did I know what happened the next day.