The Danish "Rion-Antirion" Straits
The "Sound" between Copenhagen and Malmoe is the narrowest entry point to the Baltic. In Scandinavian tongues it is called Øresund, as we learned thanks to the cable-stayed bridge inaugurated in 2000. The øre prefix means (a) gravel beach and (b) one cent of the Danish krone. Maybe more than a coincidence: there was a price for passage through these straits. According to legend, the king controlled traffic from the Helsingoer fortress (Hamlet's Elsinore, that is), shooting with the guns in order to warn pirates and other would-be free-riders - and surcharged the gunning costs on top of the toll rate. Today, the bridge [of a similar type to that of Rion-Antirion in Greece] has made Malmoe a suburb of Copenhagen (the two downtown areas are within 6 train stations from one another - barely an hour's ride). Helsingoer still serves a part of cross-channel car traffic via the once-busy ferry; at the same time [and contrary to the two fortress towns at Greece's Rion and Antirion] it has remained attractive, not just for the Shakespearean palace but also for the exceptional marine museum and cultural centre at the premises of the old shipyard.
My home island of Samos happens to be a favourite holiday destination among Danes. No idea if this is related to the old local flag, used during Samos' autonomy period (1834-1912), which looked like a cross between the Greek and Danish emblems. In any case, there is a centrally-located restaurant called "Samos" near Copenhagen's Cathedral. We found nice and reasonably-priced food there, with tzatziki served in all dishes, plus paper-napkins featuring basic Greek vocabulary, allowing some basic tourist-friendly vocabulary to prospective Greece visitors - such as "ena uso parakalo" for "one ouzo please".
My royal(ist) love affair
The combed hair is unmistakable, despite the dim screenshot (and the equally dim collective memories). At Amalienborg, one of the numerous palaces of "Europe's oldest kingdom", there is a special room dedicated to the marriage of Anna-Maria, sister of today's Danish queen, to the pictured gentleman - Greece's then king Constantine (also a descendant of a Danish royal house). The screen shows the official 1964 wedding movie (a similar one is to be found here). It is a high-quality film - reportedly the most widely shown one in Copenhagen that year - in which the royal yacht, after passing through the Corinth canal, lands near Athens, where the royals are welcomed by a very tall George Papandreou [grandfather of the recent namesake Greek leader], Greece's then prime minister. Just one year later, the polite relationship between king and PM were no longer there; Greece's parliamentary monarchy entered a crisis with no exit, terminated only by its abolition through the 1974 plebiscite.
Our citizenship
Whatever the changes to secular regimes, faithful Christians look forward to the true citizenship, which according to the Apostle Paul "is (only) in heaven", as quoted on the Greek inscription at the building of Copenhagen's Lutheran Diocese - at Nørregade 11, opposite Our Lady's Cathedral. This epistle had been sent by Paul to the residents of the northern Greek town of Philippi [near Kavala] (Philippians 3:20).
Always on my mind
George Papandreou the grandson had spoken about [Greece capable of becoming] a "Denmark of the south"; however, Scandinavia had already been connected for a long time with the specific political family and the broader centre-left spectrum. Andreas Papandreou was based in Sweden for his resistance activities against the Greek dictatorship; nevertheless, Denmark had a fair share of the action as well. In 1968, a onetime Greek Embassy employee named Mavrogenis was murdered at a forest near Copenhagen, apparentlly by Greek junta agents. How apt, therefore, that one day after grandson George announced his latest political party, we saw at Helsingoer a poster for Carmina Burana, a musical theme associated in the past with rallies of the seminal political party of Pasok, which was founded by Andreas P. and had dominated Greek politics in the post-junta period.
The "Sound" between Copenhagen and Malmoe is the narrowest entry point to the Baltic. In Scandinavian tongues it is called Øresund, as we learned thanks to the cable-stayed bridge inaugurated in 2000. The øre prefix means (a) gravel beach and (b) one cent of the Danish krone. Maybe more than a coincidence: there was a price for passage through these straits. According to legend, the king controlled traffic from the Helsingoer fortress (Hamlet's Elsinore, that is), shooting with the guns in order to warn pirates and other would-be free-riders - and surcharged the gunning costs on top of the toll rate. Today, the bridge [of a similar type to that of Rion-Antirion in Greece] has made Malmoe a suburb of Copenhagen (the two downtown areas are within 6 train stations from one another - barely an hour's ride). Helsingoer still serves a part of cross-channel car traffic via the once-busy ferry; at the same time [and contrary to the two fortress towns at Greece's Rion and Antirion] it has remained attractive, not just for the Shakespearean palace but also for the exceptional marine museum and cultural centre at the premises of the old shipyard.
Ja sou, ti kanis?
My home island of Samos happens to be a favourite holiday destination among Danes. No idea if this is related to the old local flag, used during Samos' autonomy period (1834-1912), which looked like a cross between the Greek and Danish emblems. In any case, there is a centrally-located restaurant called "Samos" near Copenhagen's Cathedral. We found nice and reasonably-priced food there, with tzatziki served in all dishes, plus paper-napkins featuring basic Greek vocabulary, allowing some basic tourist-friendly vocabulary to prospective Greece visitors - such as "ena uso parakalo" for "one ouzo please".
My royal(ist) love affair
The combed hair is unmistakable, despite the dim screenshot (and the equally dim collective memories). At Amalienborg, one of the numerous palaces of "Europe's oldest kingdom", there is a special room dedicated to the marriage of Anna-Maria, sister of today's Danish queen, to the pictured gentleman - Greece's then king Constantine (also a descendant of a Danish royal house). The screen shows the official 1964 wedding movie (a similar one is to be found here). It is a high-quality film - reportedly the most widely shown one in Copenhagen that year - in which the royal yacht, after passing through the Corinth canal, lands near Athens, where the royals are welcomed by a very tall George Papandreou [grandfather of the recent namesake Greek leader], Greece's then prime minister. Just one year later, the polite relationship between king and PM were no longer there; Greece's parliamentary monarchy entered a crisis with no exit, terminated only by its abolition through the 1974 plebiscite.
Our citizenship
Whatever the changes to secular regimes, faithful Christians look forward to the true citizenship, which according to the Apostle Paul "is (only) in heaven", as quoted on the Greek inscription at the building of Copenhagen's Lutheran Diocese - at Nørregade 11, opposite Our Lady's Cathedral. This epistle had been sent by Paul to the residents of the northern Greek town of Philippi [near Kavala] (Philippians 3:20).
Always on my mind
George Papandreou the grandson had spoken about [Greece capable of becoming] a "Denmark of the south"; however, Scandinavia had already been connected for a long time with the specific political family and the broader centre-left spectrum. Andreas Papandreou was based in Sweden for his resistance activities against the Greek dictatorship; nevertheless, Denmark had a fair share of the action as well. In 1968, a onetime Greek Embassy employee named Mavrogenis was murdered at a forest near Copenhagen, apparentlly by Greek junta agents. How apt, therefore, that one day after grandson George announced his latest political party, we saw at Helsingoer a poster for Carmina Burana, a musical theme associated in the past with rallies of the seminal political party of Pasok, which was founded by Andreas P. and had dominated Greek politics in the post-junta period.
