A Day in Ribe

"We must be careful how we ask for directions to the Kunstmuseum". Mr Fluffy was a little worried his lack-of-Danish accent may get him in to trouble with any English speakers within earshot. Too true I thought but we were also heading off to the Viking museum and I'm sure the Vikings would have coped with a little fruity language. 
getting wee fee


It rained today. It was the type of rain that made mice depressed. Their little coats all sodden and their ears weighed down with heavy droplets. My shower-proof coat was wet through and, despite Mr Fluffy's pleas that I wear the rainproof trousers, I just couldn't bear the thought of another fashion faux pas day, so my jeans were also drenched. Graham on the other hand was a vision of dryness in his head to toe plastic rainproof outfit.    
Me by the flood measurement post


The Kunstmuseum proved impressive with some standout artworks. I particularly liked a stark scene of a small child knitting by a window and Mr Fluffy's favourite was a large painting of three women watching out to sea as their menfolk's boats got into trouble in heavy seas. It was very striking.

Onward to the Viking museum, the one in town, not the one on the outskirts. They had a good collection of artefacts which had been excavated from the town centre, and a temporary exhibition of Christian Vikings. There was a small panel about witches which talked about a local woman Marin Spiild the tailor's wife who was burnt at the stake in the 1600s. The only artefact they had from her was the door to her house...rather strange.  I wonder what she would think of that now if she knew.
on top of the cathedral
pointing to top of cathedral

As it's a public holiday here (Ascension Thursday) most places were closed. The Dutch people we met earlier were most shocked that the UK, as a 'Christian country' did not have this day as a holiday. We managed to get a meal of fish and fat - yes the herring came with a box of fat to put on the bread - and Graham loved it. I contented my self with a bowl of onion soup. 

Graham loving his herring
A box of fat to have on one's bread

 Wandering the streets here is a treat. The medieval buildings are stunning and the decorative doors are very unusual. Despite a lack of waffles in Belgium and Holland we have succumbed to the Danish pastry and have scoffed several in Dickie this afternoon with the obligatory cup of tiddle (aka tea). Popping in to see the night watchman this evening then off north tomorrow.  
a selection of doors

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