The week began in Denmark, where I was spending a few days, but most of it was spent back home in Alicante.
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I now keep a bicycle at the apartment of my friend Lars in Aarhus, and so of course we had to have a mini autumn tour. The weather was, well, typical of Denmark in November, but we still enjoyed the two days of riding and taking pictures. Here is Lars taking a picture of Norsminde Fjord, south of Aarhus:
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We took a ferry to the island of Samsø, left our stuff at the camping where we had booked a room for the night, and set out to explore the place. The roads were wet, but the island was still beautiful:
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The next morning it was also raining, but as the sun rose, the weather improved markedly. This was the view from our kitchen window:
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We spent most of the day cycling around the northern half of the island. Unfortunately, fixing flats is an integral part of bicycle touring:
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On Monday morning I went back to Copenhagen, from where I was flying home that evening. I spent the day wandering around the city, visiting the graves of my parents being high on the agenda. When I walk around, I always try to notice amusing details, such as this one (which also sort of continues the bicycle theme):
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Next to the cemetery where my father is buried is one of the main jails of the Copenhagen region, Vestre Fængsel. In the “no man’s land” between the jail and the wall of the cemetery there is even some wildlife:
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After visiting the cemeteries, I took the bus back to the centre of Copenhagen and walked around there. I always enjoy the familiar places, such as the square in front of the Thorvaldsen Museum:
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Passing by Christiansborg, the seat of the Danish parliament, I happened upon the Queen’s Guard getting ready to march:
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The side window of Illum, one of the main department stores on Copenhagen’s pedestrian street:
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As the afternoon wore on, the weather got worse and worse, so I decided to go to the airport a bit earlier than necessary. This was the last picture I took in Copenhagen, in the entrance to the Central Station from where I took the train to the airport:
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During my week-long absence, my wife had bought a couple of new beds for our Cheeta. This is the one under the table in my room, where she spends most of her time when I am working on the computer:
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And here is another bed, bought mostly for its cuteness than utility:
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Tuesday, back at the office, not exactly where I wanted to be…but at least there was a smile to be had from looking at the funny fruit arrangement in the lunch room:
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A serious image from a dog walk. One of the local pharmacies is on strike (as are many others) because our utterly useless regional Valencia government has not paid its bills to the pharmacies for several months. So now they are fed up, and more seriously, some of them are having trouble getting working capital financing so that they can pay their bills to the drug companies and distributors:
The remaining images are from a visit to the Enrique Mendoza winery about 50 km from Alicante, one of the best bodegas in this part of Spain. The visit was organised by our wine club Bacchus and followed the usual pattern: bus transport to the bodega, a tour of the facilities followed by a tasting, and finally lunch at one of the local restaurants. A nice way to spend a Saturday.
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This is where it all starts:
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Enrique Mendoza is not a small operation, and this year, 80% of its output is exported, partly reflecting the weakness of the domestic market in Spain:
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Corinne is one of our enthusiastic social club members (she is active in both the wine club and the photography club), and she always brings her sons along. Here is mother and son chimping together:
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Checking the barrel:
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This lovely lady showed us around the bodega:
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Enrique Mendoza uses barrels from France and the USA:
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Then we moved on to the tasting room. We were going to try five wines, and the bodega had arranged a cheese spread, with each cheese matched to one of the wines:
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The leader of the wine tasting part of the visit was the lady on the left:
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Enjoying a glass. All five wines were excellent, and democratically prices, with the most expensive costing €16.50:
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Esther in a friendly conversation with the owner of the bodega:
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Anne-Marie was one of the true veterans of the office, having joined as one of the first 10 employees back in the 1990s. She retired earlier this year but has remained an active member of the wine club:
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The village where we ate lunch was located not far from the bodega, in the mountains surrounding Alicante. The views were spectacular:
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As the lunch was drawing to an end around 5:30 p.m., the light was becoming golden:
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Just before boarding the bus for the trip back to Alicante, I photographed the same village as in photo 26, now illuminated by lights from the houses:
