The last two days have offered some momentary returns to city life.
I caught a ride to nearby Aabenraa and finally had a fløderboller (more on this later). I was similarly driven and dropped off in Odense where I had a lovely (and coincidentally private) tour of Hans Christian Andersen's birth place. I also saw many a beautiful church and had a beer or two (and a half) while I waited out some rain. From Odense I spontaneously took a train to Svendborg where I was swept away in an all too brief love affair with one of the most charming towns I've ever seen. This romance included a very nice chat with a man who owns a very odd and amazing antique store (I'm the first New Yorker in two years time he said!), a very tasty organic lunch, more fløderboller action (!!!), more insanely old churches, a beautiful cemetery, a wooden ship filled harbor, etc. etc. etc.
It all sort of seemed like I'd gone on a field trip. I kept thinking about how completely anonymous and invisible I felt. For some reason there existed no anxiety at being in a foreign country or unfamiliar town. I admittedly managed to carve out some moments of quiet and solitude in spite of the comparative hustle of these places, but in many ways it still felt like a relief to be back at the farm. It made me wonder what it will eventually feel like to leave the womb that has become this place for me? I have less than two weeks left to go and then it will be on to the next destination. I will have to start all over again, meet new people, learn unspoken rules and routines, try to prove to everyone (including myself) that I am not an incapable moron. I am currently trying to embrace this learning curve of enjoying things in their moment and being open to what's to come. One day at a time.
