I might be an old woman. I like to think I'm pretty adventurous (see boda boda picture from Uganda above ⇑), but in Solvang, CA all I cared to do was meander the sidewalks, sample fudge, and look at the kitschy Norse bric-a-brac-- mostly of tiny viking figurines with giant beards or tiles with clever sayings such as "You can tell a Dane, but you can't tell him much" (harty-harr-harr). Old-women activities, right? With the exception of an elementary school fieldtrip group, Ali and I may have been the youngest tourists in this Danish settlement 130 miles north of Los Angeles. My Los Angeles roommate warned me ahead of time that Solvang was "boring". I think it might be accurate to assume that she was unimpressed with my roadtrip agenda. I don't think she understands that I bring the party. Solvang was not boring. Nowhere I go is boring.
Didn't care to try the Medisterpolse, but really wished we coulda tried the Aebleskiver
oh yeah, and they named a church after me.
