I once saw a play set in Denmark. It was called Hamlet. The play was about a Danish prince, coincidentally also named Hamlet, who is very upset with his uncle.
Hamlet gives a long speech that begins “To be or not to be, that is the question.” This is his way of asking whether life is worth living. He narrowly decides against suicide. Literary scholars agree that this is a pivotal decision because it lengthens the play considerably.
From Hamlet I learned two things. First, the Danes are a dour and unhappy race. Second, their English is impeccable.
I never faulted Hamlet for being depressed. Even putting aside the argument with his uncle, who was a total jerk, he lived in a country bordered by the North Atlantic. He may have been a prince, but his domain was a frozen wasteland.
And why wouldn’t the Danes speak English? Denmark has engaged in commerce with England since 793 AD. Back then, and for several hundred years thereafter, the major Danish exports were rape and pillage. At the end of a long day of raping and pillaging the Danes (who then were called Vikings) wanted to relax. They couldn’t find a good latte without knowing English.
Our December visit to Denmark confirmed that the people speak English. I can’t say that everyone speaks English. I didn’t speak to everyone. However, every single person we met spoke English as fluently as did Hamlet.
You may wonder why we traveled to Denmark in mid-December, just before the winter solstice. I will answer that question but first I want to say that I was completely wrong about the source of Hamlet’s foul mood. It probably was not weather-related.
While Denmark’s latitude is well north of Fargo’s, its temperatures dip to freezing only for a short while in January. In December, while we were there, the highs and lows both were in the 40’s. Some crops were still in the fields.
The Kingdom of Denmark includes a peninsula (bordering Germany) and over 400 named islands. The capital, Copenhagen, is on the island of Zealand. While the surrounding waters are cold, they exude enough warmth to stave off the kind of freezing temperatures depicted in the movie Fargo and in the actual state of North Dakota.
Unlike Hamlet, most Danes are cheerful people. Indeed, multiple studies conclude that the Danes are the happiest folks on earth. You don’t have to believe me. Click here for one article, and here for another.
I digress. Back to your question: We were in Denmark because getting married in Ireland is extremely inconvenient.
Our youngest wanted to marry an Irish dude. In Ireland you can’t get married unless you give three months notice to a government office, complete a marriage course, and jump through a lot of hoops. If you are marrying a non-EU citizen there are even more hoops. All together, the process could take over a year and cost thousands of euros.
Or, love birds can go to Denmark’s Aeroe Island, the Las Vegas of European wedding venues. The process will be relatively quick and relatively inexpensive. The marriage will be recognized in Ireland, and around the world.
To get to Aeroe you first fly into Copenhagen, which is on northern Zealand. Then you travel south and cross a huge suspension bridge onto Funen Island. You continue south to the port city of Svendborg. There you get on a ferry and ride to Aeroe.
You can travel from Copenhagen to Svendborg one of three ways: train, bus, or rental car. The bus is cheapest by far. The train is next cheapest. Renting a car is the most expensive. However, since there were four of us we decided that renting a car would cost only a little more than mass transit, and it would free us from the servitude of bus or train schedules.
What we failed to anticipate was the toll bridge spanning the islands of Zealand and Funen. And the cost of parking.
The bridge is four miles long. The toll, we learned as the car rental agent was handing us the keys, is $36, each way. Adding that $72 to the $100 we would pay for parking brings us to the total sum of Way More Expensive Than Train.
While driving was the most expensive mode of transportation, it offered my family an opportunity to exchange ideas with the driver (me). These ideas mostly concerned (for example) proper following distances, when to turn and whether that turn should be right or left, and whether we should take this parking spot or look for a better one. Of course I appreciated the diverse opinions, all delivered simultaneously and in urgent tones exactly when I needed them, just a second or two before I had to make a decision. Train travel deprives tourists of these bonding experiences.
Thanks to the sound advice of my passengers, and Denmark’s strict laws against homicide, we made it to Svendberg without incident, and just in time to board the ferry.
Leslie met us when we docked at Aeroe. Leslie is a retired lawyer who owns Global Express Weddings. For a set fee Leslie schedules the wedding, picks you up at the ferry, shows you around the island (30 minutes), and drops you off at Aeroe’s best hotel (there are two hotels).
Leslie first showed us the municipal building where the wedding would be officiated. This is a statue in front of the government building:
I asked Leslie for the story behind the naked lady. He said, “I don’t know the story, but my wife was the model.” We later met his wife, Woot. She neither confirmed nor refuted Leslie’s claim.
As we drove through the little town Leslie stopped in front of a building with a black door. “This is the oldest house on Aeroe,” he said. An inscription on the door confirmed that it had been built in 1647.
As we pulled away from the old house I asked Leslie about tourist attractions on Aeroe. He said, “I just showed it to you.”
While Aeroe may not have a zip line or theme park, it is mysterious. For example, it sometimes is spelled Æro, and other times Aeroe, and still others Aerø. The island is secluded and very quiet, and therefore a perfect place to contemplate the puzzle of Danish spelling.
We met Leslie’s other clients for the morning wedding. One couple was from Belarus. Another consisted of an Italian (the male) and a Brazilian (the female) living in the Middle East. They decided to get married because if the authorities learned that the woman was having sexual intercourse while unmarried (as might be revealed during a medical examination), she would be arrested. The man would receive knowing winks and jovial pats on the back. Being an introvert and wanting to avoid that kind of fuss the Italian agreed they should get married.
There were to be 40 weddings that day. Ours, the second, was over in 15 minutes. Leslie and the Danish officiates were familiar with Las Vegas and its reputation for quickie marriages. However, when I asked whether it was possible to have Elvis perform the ceremony their looks conveyed two messages: One, no, it is not possible. Two, only a deranged lunatic would think a dead American singer might officiate a marriage.
We had rooms booked for another night at the best hotel on Aeroe, but decided to leave.
The drive back to Copenhagen was much like the drive to Svendborg. My passengers generously provided ample driving tips, many of them contradictory, and (most helpfully) at the instant circumstances demanded a decision. Their helpfulness often made me think of Hamlet’s soliloquy. “To be or not to be . . .”. Hamlet opted against suicide despite being haunted by his dead father, his uncle murdering his father and marrying his (Hamlet’s) mother, causing his girlfriend (Ophelia) to kill herself, and accidentally murdering that same girlfriend’s father (Polonious). Those are all very good reasons to be bummed, and yet he chose life. But might Hamlet have chosen differently had he driven in a foreign county with Ophelia, Polonious, and his father’s ghost, all anxiously guiding his every decision?
Of course I exaggerate. What I mean to say is only this: If ever you want to travel from Copenhagen to Svendborg, take the train.