Odense is the birthplace and childhood home of Hans Christian Anderson, and probably one of the most charming and idyllic cities I’ve ever seen…seriously, it is like a fairytale.  Not that many Americans go to Odense, so I feel lucky to have seen it.

Love this mother earth statue in the square.  Her belly is shiny from years of children sliding down her.  Of course, children sliding down a statue of the naked female form would NOT go over in America…but nobody thinks anything of it here.

A theatre at Hans Christian Anderson’s childhood home where kids do plays of his work:

i'm amazed Thomas posed for this picture...he must really LUV me.

Thomas loves his Mutti

HC Anderson’s house…he was poverty-stricken, gawky, weird…all the kids made fun of him…many believe he was homosexual…he was religious, and any sexual urges caused him overwhelming guilt.  He actually put a tiny “m” in his journal to shamefully mark the days he had masturbated…he was a big mess.  All the makings of a great writer, huh?

I love the public art in Denmark...it is completely interactive...well, mostly only for those under 8 years old ...and crazy Americans. But still.

Thomas and Ina walk down towards the water where HC Anderson would spend hours helping his mother do the washing and listen to her stories of water nymphs and sprites:

For lunch we have smoergesbroed, which you are required to finish with Schnapps and herring:

Off to Odense to see Thomas’s wonderful, amazing, lovely mother (and I’m not just saying that to suck up…she is WONDERFUL).

Got to see more of Thomas’s paintings:

He did this one of his grandfather, who passed away before it was finished.  Such a beautiful painting:

Out of respect for Ina, I won’t show her house…though I wish I could.  It is two stories in the center of town…she has decorated it so beautifully…everywhere you look is something surprising…gorgeous art all over the walls…a wall of books…and we are staying upstairs in a slanted room with a window on the roof…the apartment is over 100 years old.   This place is right in the best area of Odense…so much going on outside the window…musicians always playing on the street…people running around, laughing…I love it here!  THANK YOU MUTTI!!!!

Thomas’s friend Michael invited us to his annual sausage cookout.  I’m not kidding.  It is a huge deal.  The recipe has been handed down through three generations and is top secret.  The cookout was in their country house…a lot of people rent these tiny, adorable houses in the country…there are huge communities of them.  Because Scandinavia is so freaking cold, the Danes spend as much of the warm months as possible outdoors relaxing.

There were gonna be a lot of kids at the cookout, so I thought the least I could do was bring balloons.  I mean, I’m American, and so I already got a strike against me…if it takes winning over their children to get them to like me, I ain’t above it.

These kids were adorable.  But one of them found it confusing I didn’t speak Danish…she got it in her head that I was mentally disabled instead of Danish-ignorant.  Her response was to as me for a flower over and over, stretching out the word and practically screaming it:  “BLUUUUUUMMMMMPSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTT!”

Another reason we should all love Oprah:  my mom saw an episode about Denmark this year and decided the Danes were wonderful people.  In this episode, Oprah visited Danish homes and met with the families.  BRUSH WITH FAME:  this little girl’s family (the one in the red dress) was profiled.  I got the whole story.  The press was everywhere…so Oprah actually got in the backseat of her mom’s car and they drove to the house…the girls response to Oprah?  She whispered to her mom “She’s so big!”

Then jetlag hit and we fell asleep on the grass….for FOUR HOURS.

Of course, that was a great excuse for Thomas’s friends to mess with us and take pictures.

The sausage was awesome, by the way.

Yes, Tao is back.  I missed you, Devil.  And thanks for letting us crash at your house.

We went to a freaky art exhibition:

And the scene was eerily similar to a Williamsburg art crowd.  Hipster, I guess, transcend nationality.

The meat-packing district.  Know how calm everyone looks?  Peace-loving?  Well, they are.  Until about 2 a.m.  That is the moment when Danes go crazy.  Denmark has a very, very different approach to male/female relationships and sex….I guess you can boil it down to this: feminism is integral to their everyday life.  Now of course I can’t speak for all the Danish people, but this is the common belief…women should be treated as equals…and they mean it.  There is no glass ceiling…women run corporations just as often as men.  Maybe this is why Danish men are so standoffish….that said, Danes do not approach sex with the same baggage Americans due.  They don’t date, and one night stands are not only common, they are acceptable…this is how you date in Denmark: go to a club, stand around and get trashed, then grab the 1 to 3 a.m. window of opportunity to proposition someone…take them home, have sex, and then contemplate if you want a relationship in the morning.  If you don’t want a relationship, chances are you’ll still remember their name…and you might even stay friends.  To sum it up, people are slutty in Denmark until they find the right mate…then they mate for life.  Whatever we think about that in America, I will say it is refreshing to meet people who don’t have so many hang-ups about sex.

Local Dick

three amigos

Johan and Tao not only picked my outfit (they made me change four times until they agreed), but also posed me for this picture….believe it or not, these guys are actually heterosexual.  Almost TOO heterosexual…you would not believe some of the stuff that comes out of their mouths.  I adore them, but I REALLY need to hang out with a chick at some point.

my photo shoot

Check out all of Thomas’s old haunts….

Run into his old friend X…yeah, that’s his name.  And yeah, he’s that mysterious…he wouldn’t even let me take a picture of him.  But he took some of us!  And he’s a total gay, as they’d say in Copenhagen…by the way, gay people can get married in Denmark…people tease, but there is little outright homophobia.  And X took us to a gay bar…I was pretty much the only chick, and Thomas was the only straight guy…and he’s a champ.  I know it wasn’t his first choice of bars, but he knew it made me happy and we stuck around.

“Bears” are new to Denmark….they just emerged due to (according to X) a Vice Magazine article….and now they are going strong:

And it’s no secret I practice the art of pole dancing…for FITNESS.  Honestly, I rarely do it in front of other people, and even then it is a joke.  But c’mon…a gay bar in Copenhagen?  A pole?

Of course I was instantly popular…I even taught a table of guys some moves (PS, they’d never done it and were better than me)

Bars pretty much never close in Denmark…we went home around six a.m.  Thomas had to take a nap….

…and I had to buy a bunch of gummy candies.  I am completely OBSESSED with the array of gummy candies available in Scandinavia.   I had a whole bag.  And I offered some to these three prostitutes, who seem very pleased.  One took the big strawberry gummy I’d been saving, but that is okay.  ‘Cause sharing is caring, just like they say in Pre-school.

I was soooooooooooooooooooo tired.