Last night Kim and I went to the show Velvet at the Sydney Opera House.

It was a combination of circus, burlesque and boogie nights (70's music) in one show.




The show had great music with Marcia Hines and Brendan Maclean and the performers were great. I think everyones favourite was the guy with the hula hoops.

I don't know for sure which ones are Claus and which ones are Rene.

This post is mostly about Claus when he was at his top as one of Denmarks top tennis players.

I have kept scans of all the newspaper clippings from when he was winning a lot of tournaments.





























































In the mid 90's he started to get pretty sick and although he still tried to play tennis it was never at the same level again. Eventually he more or less gave up. His illness took to great a hold of him. These are some of the 'darkest' photos I have of him while he was struggling with his schizophrenia and were taken shortly before I moved to Australia.





He lost contact with most of his friends and was very dependent on my mum and dad as well as other support programs in place.







I prefer to remember him as he was before he passed away.


















This poem reminds me of him.

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

—Meggie Royer

Here are some more photos from my childhood in no particular order.

The first ones from a New Years eve where we got a bit silly with the hats. These were taken at a New Years even in Kenya and before my brother got really sick, so probably around 1989/90.



And here is Claus.



And my mum.




I was really good at shooting when I was a kid and won lots of championships. This photo is one of the few things I have from that time.


This is Claus and I with our dog.



Not sure which ones of these is Claus and which is me.




















This was taken just christmas day in the back yard of my grandma's (Mormor) house. We got the skis as a christmas present. All the fields behind her house belonged to my mothers brother Flemming.



I think this may be my brother. For the first time I've noticed the photo in the background. It looks like this may be a photo of my mum with her two sisters and brother and what could be her dad Raimer in the middle.















This would most likely be the new years eve where we were trapped by the snow 1978/79. We were supposed to have celebrated with the family but couldn't even get out of the house. Delicious with a glass of milk and a pie.






We didn't have a lawn in the back yard. Instead we had pebbles...lots of fun shoveling them.







This I think is a christmas eve dinner at my grandmas (mormor) place. My mum on the left and my uncle Flemming in the middle. Not sure who the person standing up in. It could be my grandmas brother. Possibly from around 1976/77


I think it is my great grandpa (Raimer) in the middle row number two from the left. The title of the photo says that it is Christoffer (??) in the top left corner. Looking at the age of the boys this would have been taken in the 1920's.


Claus dancing aeound the christmas tree and my mum and grandma (Bedstemor/Farmor).


From left to Right. My grandma (On my dads side/Bedstemor/farmor), Knud Aage (My uncle/dads brother), My mum (in the foreground), My grandad (in the background), Irene (my auntie/dads sister), Grete and I assume the baby is Vinnie which means that it is likely that my mum was pregnant with Claus (born in July).






















This was taken at my grandparents place and after my brother got sick. He was really suffering at this point.






This is one of the happiest family photos I have and the only one I have a print of.



Going for a walk at Marielyst with Lott and Willy some of our german friends. Claus in the foreground and my dad on the right. I think you can just spot me in yellow pants in the background.



I think this is at Lotte and Willy's summer house.






Not sure if this is Claus or myself being babtised. It is my grand mother being god mother.











This was taken outside our summer house in Marielyst.



My brother number 2 from the top right on his school photo.



Claus at daycare number 4 from the top left.



Me at day care top left.

Here is some more old photos of my mum. This time with here brother and sisters.

This first one if probably one of the oldest. You can tell that the photo was shot in black and white and that the negative was later coloured (badly). It would be my mum in the middle with her two sisters Eli (the oldest on the right) and Yrsa.




This is my mum in the middle with what I assume is cousins.





I think it is my grandmother (Karen) holding my mum.


Here is the same as the first photo, but this time without the colour.



My mum and her sisters playing in the courtyard of their farm


My mum with her older sisters.


Eli, Yrsa, Sonja and Flemming Kragh.


Having her photo taken as a little girl.


Upset about having her photo taken?
























My mum with her younger brother Flemming.


As a liitle girl


My mum in school.





From left to right...Eli, Yrsa my mum (Sonja) and Flemming.


As a young girls/woman...possibly from her Konfirmation.



My mum as a girl scout (no 4 from the left).


It is Flemming in the middle and my mum on the right.

When I was a kid we would every summer travel to Southern Europe with our caravan.

Usually travelling through Swizerland or Austria ending up in Italy (Either Lido di Jesolo or the Italian Riviera). Underway we would visit old friends of my mum and dad from the time they were working in Italy.

Here are some photos from that time.









I just noticed the burn scar on my arm on the above photo. I think this is one of the few childhood photos where you can really see it.




















This was out caravan while travelling.








This is our caravan with the tent up in the middle.

This weekend we took the kids for a walk with some friends from Maroubra to Lurline Bay.

It is a nice little pleasant walk that is easy for the kids.




They loved jumping between the boulders.




...and exploring the small rock pools.







Because of the recent storms the beach was full of Blue bottles, so no playing in the sand this time around.





They are nasty little creatures that will sting you badly if you touch them.




This surfer was being very careful in his bare feet.

Earlier this month it was Lucas birthday.

We didn't have a kids party for him, but we did celebrate with the family.







We gave him a new bike for his birthday...he was stunned and didn't know what to think of it, but he loves riding it now.

Last weekend there was a Lego exhibition in the city.

We caught the train in to St James station and walked from there.





It was a fairly small exhibition with my favourite being the pirate ship with all the details of the lower decks.












There was also some Ninjago and Star wars.










And a lot of other pieces.

Rather than keeping all the kids artwork I instead take photos of it.

Here is some of the latest additions.

Christmas is approaching fast. The Christmas tree is up and Kim is busy shopping for presents for the various people.

The other night I managed to slot in 10 minutes for the first set of Christmas photos of Aiden and Lucas.




I was shooting these with a 50mm f1.4 lens to get the nice blurry Christmas tree lights. This also meant that I didn't have much room to play with when it came to focus...almost impossible with two moving kids whily trying to get the right mood with facial expressions, tantrums etc. Aiden couldn't sit still and Lucas refused to wear his hat. What do they say...never photograph wild animals and children!

The other day it was Aiden and Lucas Christmas concert with their daycare centre.

This year they were supposed to dress up in some country's national clothes.

We borrowed some Chinese clothes from KC and they looked very cute in it.






The concert went very well. We were especially impressed how well Aiden was able to follow the instructions and the moves to the various dances.








It was especially funny when they were singing this song with Konitchiwa...Namaste....BULA!!!!




Lucas was also in the first part of the concert sitting down the front with one of the carers.

Aiden is still playing soccer once a week. Last week he insisted on wearing my shoes instead of his own.



Maybe he was hinting that his old shoes are getting too small.

We have had a lot of rain lately. On one of the days I was showing Aiden and Lucas how to make a pair of funny glasses out of an egg crate and a piece of string.

They got to paint the glasses afterwards.

The other day I picked up Aiden and Lucas pretty late from daycare.

They were in the process of cleaning and Aiden was eagerly waiting for them to turn on the vacuum cleaner so he could play with it.

I have already gone out too far. I cannot return and jump over the stream because it is growing inside of me and is becoming a roaring river.
What are these strange thoughts I am having?
Were these free farmers in the hills above Varde Aaa more free at year 900 than they were in year 1100?
The only difference was christianity.

Off to the library
The landowner at Noerholm
The Herredfoged.
The Bishop in Ribe
It is all written here

I start thinking about hunting
A good hunter makes sure that they keep a healthy game on the property. He will feed the game during tough winters and make sure that the the overall health is there and have to most productive game survive.
No, it is not right to have these thoughts here in the library when it is the farmers I need to find information on.

Queen Margaret..
Make a claim on Noerholm..
Maybe there is something here..

Wasn't it the landowner of Noerholm that owned Noerholm?
Has he just built up Noerholm and then put his filthy hand on every surrounding piece of land and property?
Which the church was claiming that it should own?
Or was it the Bishop in Ribe?

This was not what I was supposed to find here at the library. It was the farmer - farmers!

Hunting...

What rubbish was that. I must get rid of these thoughts, this has nothing to do with hunting.

It wouldn't have been the lord who was out there beginning to move large boulders.

And not the bishop -

Christianity had just been introduced but building that many churches required a lot of workforce.

My thoughts are diverted.

Has this big change in faith based activity created communities, something in common because surely it was the farmers who built the churches.
This introduction was it something that made the existence easier for the farmers, my old roots.
It must have been, a lot of other things to believe in has been forgotten and the church is now a gathering place.

You should never start researching your ancestry.
You encounter one surprise after another and will never finish. There is always more.
There is changes in ones beliefs for every new discovery.

Of cause it was the farmers who built the churches. Who else would have?
They probably started with the words; "On the day of honour I am with you".

My thoughts are again left astray.

Russia build the aswan dam in Egypt.

Yes, I saw it myself with my own eyes. I drove in my car along the large canals they were digging.

How was it that they explained it to me?
This canal was to be dug 5 metres deep, 100 metres wide and should extend 800km out into the desert.

There were thousands of workers, it all looked like a large ants nests.
Men with baskets full of soil on their heads.

There was not a single Russian in this ants nest.

- Who actually built the Aswan Dam? -

Farmers

My grandads memoirs.

-

My Memoirs.

-

But there has to be something before us.

Our family of farmers from Kongeaaen at Toboel to Lyngbakkerne across Varde Aa - Mejls - Hornelund - Sig.

How did they live in the last 1000 years?

I rush to the library but it feels like hitting a miss in the lottery.

Have my ancestors, the farmers, not accomplished anything that made it worthy for a couple of pages in the danish history?

Yes, they have of cause not walked about killing each other to get hold of their neighbors possessions. Rather the opposite, from the looks of it, it was the farmers that were killed.

And for this the killers deserved a rather prominent mentioning in the history.

Yes, there was built a number of churches in the 1100's, but my relatives, the farmers are not mentioned.

I start to think.

- Who actually built these churches? -.

..as a couple of cows and a bull out on the feeding grounds. Something that can work and reproduce.

There is an old say like this - The devil looks after his own.
Let me immediately point out that the Devil didn't look after the farmers in the area around Varde and it was obvious that it was the met in power that were looked after by the Devil.

Here I would like to jump forward to 1300-1400 in the Danish history (Queen Margaret I). It is like my ancestors roots here start sprouting quickly. It is not quite clear who owns then, the church or the landowner at Noerholm.
Queen Margaret interfere in the argument and this gives the farmers a bit of breathing space.
A few farmers become more established and become independent (owns their land).
How should all these farmers see all the trouble ahead? Yes, even the Danish history has forgotten them.
It is only all the bad evil, power hungry people that are written about.
The more bloodthirsty the more pages they get in the book.

How mush is described about the farmers fight for independence against Kristian the 3rd?

The farmers at Varde invaded the river fortres at Varde and destroyed it but then had to retreat north with Captain Clement pursued by Johan Rantzau the kings right hand.
The farmers were at last defeated at Aalborg so that they would not appear in the history books. Not even crying and mourning by women and children behinds the hills at Varde river.

Honour becomes he who should be honoured.

I am stuck.

There is something peculiar about this study.

Why do I still return to - in a time of hunting?

Right! I remember, there is a book by that name.

I tell myself to think about something else - And he thoughts saw wide views.
And the neighbours wife said to her mum - That decease looks just like...

No, this is enough...

Were the farmers the hunted game or not?
Were the king, the lords, the church, the bishop the hunters?

Were the farmers the game and the hunting so good that the hunters couldn't agree on splitting the game?
Was it like that all over Denmark? Of cause it was. the Varde area was no exception.

It is something strange you are getting involved in when you study your ancestors.
The farmers had to live, otherwise there was nothing to hunt, but when the land owner was about to loose his hunting rights then the hunting escalated to the point where the game was about to go extinct.
The hunters would then loose interest and start hunting elsewhere.

Here we can mention the war against Sweden with its following plague as well as Napoleon with his Spanish troops in Denmark.

The farmers always recovered, because they were the lifeline for Denmark.
Children are born and new generations grow up between the marshes and hills without knowing whether they in years to come will be valuable as game and hence again be hunted to extinction.

It is the owners of the hunting grounds, their mentality and actions that is written into the Danish history. They have been lifted onto the podium for their dishonest behaviour.

On the contrary is just mentioned as an afterthought...

Religion is an integral part of Laos society where the majority are Budhists.



The monks dressed in orange and red ropes are still visible everywhere and it is largely seen as becoming a novice (junior monk) is seen as an opportunity to get an education and support your family if you come from a poor rural area.


 


The high influx of tourists, especially to Luang Prabang is therefore a bit of a win-win situation for everyone. The tourists support the temples in the area by paying their admission fees to visit and on both my trips I have found that the monks are keen to have a conversation as it is a way of practicing their language skills.

In Luang Prabang the monks walk in procession every morning to collect rice from worshipper along the roads. Before sunrise there are hundreds of monks walking the streets in every direction. There is an equal horde of tourists trying to take photos of these monks and equally tourists handing out (sometimes dubious) rice to them.



There are posters around the city encouraging being there and seeing the monks as well as providing some guidelines such as keeping a certain distance, not using flash photography and if you hand out rice then where to get it from. Most of it common sense really, so it was sad to see how some would be blocking the paths and sticking their camera phones with flashes into the monks faces.





Sacha and I went there a couple of mornings, but because of the time of the year everything was dark and because the monks move quite fast through the streets it was a challenge getting good shots.



One afternoon we walked past a temple and a group of monks were in progress of cutting down a large tree and afterwards trimming off the branches. They were going to use some of the tree trunk for traditional drums and the rest for ornamental purposes inside the temple.







In the late afternoons you would hear them chanting in the small rooms of meditations, chanting and prayer. These are often smaller places of worship and not part of the main temples which are used for more ceremonial purposes.
One evening I heard such chanting and went to investigate and found these monks. Definitely one of my favourite moments in Luang Prabang.



A common assumption and misconception is that the monks live by an ancient code with a simple life, so it is quite interesting to see that even they have adopted modern technology with smart phones and cameras.

The locals are still relying on motorbikes to get around. They are far cheaper and more convenient in the towns. It is even possible to fit an entire family onto a single motorbike.







Younger kids and high schoolers ride their push bikes for transport.



Although Aiden and the other kids definitely preferred the motor bikes.



Nothing too flash for weddings - a normal new car will suffice. If you notice the sign on the door, then I am not sure if the bride was expecting to come home to 'Meat & Sausage'.



There are also some vintage cars around which have survived since colonial times - like this 1952 Citroen.

On the last day in Luang Prabang we went to the local ten pin bowling alley.

We had heard and read that this is the place where things are happening in Laos. When we got there the place was totally deserted apart from a few staff members.

We did play bowling and it is a bit surreal to play by ourselves in this fairly modern centre in Laos.



They didn't have any support rails for the kids, but Aiden especially did really well and the kids managed to beat Kim on points.

Just outside Luang Prabang there is this amazing waterfall cascading down a limestone creek.

We decided to get up early to go a take photos, so that we could be there early before all the crowds arrived.





















At the entrance to the park there is also a Bear rehabilitation centre. They rescue bears from captivity and keep them until it is safe to release them back into the wild (if ever). The bears have a big area and seem to love climbing and sleep in the hammocks provided.

What I especially remember from my last trip to Laos was the kids. One of my most cherished photos is one of two little girls holding a bouquet of flowers that I took 20 years ago (it is on this blog if you look for it through the search function).

The children are still there. They are still very shy, dirty and smiling.











They make up their own games such as these kids at a school playing marbles with tamarind seeds.







These kids were playing a game where the kid under the table had to poke the feet of the kids above the table.



And some things never change, kids teasing each other.





The girls in the school yard 'hang out'.



Visiting a local school was great for our kids to get a glimpse of how other kids live.







Along the road we stopped and a family was outside with the mother breastfeeding her son in their outdoor living room. This is where everything happened such as the cooking, washing, feeding etc.





The chicken were running around freely



Here is a rare shot that Kim took with my camera in it.



It is a very family oriented life they live

Our kids had a blast of a time in Laos. They loved each other company (for the most part) and sometime looked like real little travellers.








They were respectful at the temples and even offered a prayer.





At other times they behaved like animals and should be lock away in a cage.





But for the most part they liked exploring things that us adults wouldn't see such as this crater from a crash landed U.F.O.

For getting around the towns in Laos we mainly used Tuk-Tuks. These are small motorbike powered minibuses and the experience can be very mixed. Most of them are generally good, but some have bad brakes have a plume of smelly two stroke engine smoke trailing behind them. We could easily fit our two families into one and I'd joke that there would even be room for another couple of adults.



The kids loved the tuk-tuks and have the fresh air blowing in their hair while riding.



The only downside is that you'd never quite know what the fare would be until you started bargaining and from town to town the fares seemed to be very different. Even though I believe I am reasonable proficient at bargaining, I'm still confident that we paid more that the locals would be paying for the same trips.











For the longer trips we would catch either local buses (mini vans) or in some instances it was worthwhile us hiring a private bus as we were enough people to fill it.

From Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang we hired a private van taking us across the mountain pass at Kasi. Last time I went through here it was in an open bus and at the pass it was raining and really cold. This time round we had a beautiful clear day with a great view of the valley below from the top.





The week before they had a lot of rain and a landslide had taken out large parts of the last section of road (I read in the local newspaper a few days earlier that the road was closed). Our little van was struggling getting enough grip and our driver had to reverse to get enough of a run-up in the next attempt to make it through the steep and muddy section.

The larger trucks were really struggling getting through.

The morning markets are interesting. This is where the locals still go to buy their fresh produce and all kinds of specialties are being sold here. It would be easy to go here and get the ingredients for some really delicious food.

There are also some unusual things that we don't see in our western kitchens. such as:

Dried Squids:



Fresh fish - of cause, but this have sharp teeth.


A protein and herb table that would make most chefs (and diners) salivate:






The Chillies in Lao are more hot than in Thailand - We loved the heat.


A pig:


River crabs:


Beetles:


Dried rats:




Caterpillar - these are yummi when fried:


Frogs:

River snails:


Dried squid, shrimps and fish:

They still manufacture silk they way they used to. It was interesting for the kids to see the process from small caterpillar eggs that hatch to worms to the production of the silk itself.






I had always wondered where the colour blue (Indigo) came from. I knew it used to come from a seashell, but I was fairly certain that this wouldn't be the case here. It turns out that they use a special leaf from a plant that when mixed with water and left fermenting/oxidising turns into a blue dye.





They also use plants for most of the other colours.





After they spin the thread they use traditional weaves to make it into pieces of garment. These days the silk garments are fairly expensive - hundreds of dollars, but it used to be really cheap.

During the dry season the people of Luang Prabang builds traditional bamboo bridges across the smaller river. This saves them a lot of time (and cost) to cross directly into the centre of town rather than a long detour to the other larger bridges.

It also earns them a small income to charge foreigners a small fee to cross the bridges.