The house of Hamlet

Well, we sort of waved to Hamlet today as we came past. Or would have done had he been real and not too long ago and all that. We went over to Denmark today, but not for very literary reasons. The Resident IT Consultant felt it was time he and Daughter visited Louisiana. The art gallery, not the state.

Louisiana is a great place. Good art, good food, beautiful park, interesting building. Expensive. The drive along the sea between Elsinore and Copenhagen is lined with the most wonderful houses, so the witch started dreaming again. Daughter pointed out she has no intention of learning Danish. Well, she didn’t put it as politely as that.

We admired the view of Elsinore castle all the way across on the ferry. Though with five ferries every hour in each direction, there is barely space for anything to be seen apart from boats. The ferry brought back memories for the witch, who entertained Daughter with seemingly not previously told stories of her life at sea. Hah, she even thought I made it up. And who would have thought that someone prone to seasickness would pick a job at sea?

And the castle at Elsinore wasn’t really where Hamlet lived. Shakespeare got it wrong. These things happen.

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