Category Archives: Ikke kategoriseret

We were in the staff room when I suddenly realised I hadn’t a clue what was being said across the table. Maja and Helena were in private communication in their mither tongue. It wasn’t Danish, it was ‘Føroysk’ — Faroese. Maja was my first meaningful contact with the Faroe Islands. She was much further fromContinue reading “Faroese Friends”

There’s a sea of flame gathering in the twilight. It started with only one torch, but each newly lit passes the flame to two or three others. Soon we are legion. Our gathering point is the old station in our small town. A procession is to be led by the band of the ‘Hjemmeværnet’ —Continue reading “Letter from Denmark: Torchlight Procession”

‘Raadmand Davids Hus’ is one of the oldest and best conserved houses in Helsingør. It was built by David Mellvin, a second-generation Scottish exile in 1694. He was a high-standing member of the city administration. Today his house is a cosy lunch cafe — and I’m here with my own second generation Scottish exile. It’sContinue reading “Letter from Denmark: Cannonballs, Kingdoms and Unions”

“Hey, it’s Gus here, you called?” The voice is unmistakably Scottish. “Aye, we’re showing the game by the bar,” he tells me. I hadn’t actually left a message, but Gus returned my call within five minutes. After weeks of SNP leadership drama and various work deadlines, I needed tae get oot the hoose, as it were. LivingContinue reading “Letter from Denmark: The Dubliner”

In the early morning mist I keep a lookout for cyclists. The light turns green, and to my right a mother on a bike transporter, with her child on board, accelerates. A younger sporty guy on a mountain bike is in a hurry, and a teenage pedestrian slowly crosses staring at her phone. Taking aContinue reading “Letter from Denmark: The World According to Michael”

The story goes, that my Auntie Rita broke down in tears during a visit to the Scottish National War Memorial at Edinburgh Castle. She had discovered the name of her uncle James among the dead of the Great War. He belonged to the unlucky one-in-five of enlisted Scots who never returned from the trenches. Seeing his name andContinue reading “Another Time, Another Place”

There are two ways to see the Danish parliament. The first is a standard 45-minute guided walk about. The second is the longer ‘Kunstomvisning’, or art tour. I suggested to my wife that she give up her sacred Saturday morning downtime to join me. Unexpectedly, she agreed. There’s track work between the Eastbridge (Østerbro) Station and Copenhagen Central.Continue reading “Letter from Denmark: National Consciousness”

“You wouldn’t recognise Duke Street now,” my sister says, “it’s all bric-a-brac stores.” Lizzie is the only one of the litter who has remained close to our roots. Today, she lives just across from my primary school at the top of Armadale Street. Her daily shopping trips take her along the Parade, though she clearlyContinue reading “The Distance of the Years”

I’m fumbling to find my yellow health insurance card. All Danish citizens and residents have one. It doubles as a kind of multi-purpose ID. You need it at the dentist or doctor, but this little credit-card sized bit of plastic also lets you into the library. As it happens, there’s no need for its magneticContinue reading “Letter from Denmark: Libraries, Liars, and Lucia”

The first snow of winter arrived in east Denmark the other day. There’s now a mad rush for winter tyres. Most Danes have these extra wheels stored somewhere. Mine are with Jonas, my local dealer, who took about 15 minutes to make the switch early this morning. So, I’m on an errand in Helsingør, onContinue reading “Cafe Karisma: Through the Stones”