A Walk in the Mindeparken

Scary things going on here. It's June and the weather is actually quite seasonable. Temperatures have been in the mid 60s to low 70s all week and the forecast for our game tomorrow doesn't call for rain, wind, sleet, snow, hail or meteor showers (yet). Outside of practicing and working out, I've been spending a lot of time outside biking and continuing to explore some of the things I've seen in passing. The other day, not willing to go all the way to the beach and jeopardize the nice conditions (if I went, I'm positive Godzilla would have risen from the sea), I decided instead to stay a little closer to home and check out Mindeparken (min-de-pah-ken), which translates to "park of the memories." That translation was provided by a man enjoying dinner (complete with wine) out in the park with his wife; more on my brief, but meaningful conversation with them in a moment.


Mindeparken is about a kilometre from my front step, just passed the Atletion and NRGi Stadium, where I stayed upon arriving in Denmark. It is situated directly in between Århus Bay and Marselisborg Castle. It covers about thirty acres and is linked to an arboretum that I did not venture into on this particular day. With the sun high above and myself feeling a little spent, I spread a towel down on the ground, tossed my earbuds in and tried to doze off for a while. Though, I didn't get much sleep, I did enjoy being outside without having to worry about being drenched in a perrenial downpour. After cycling through a few pages of reading and several Iron Maiden albums, I decided to take a walk around the park, which I honestly hadn't planned on doing then.


Marselisborg Castle is the big white house pictured up above. It's not so much a castle with a drawbridge and moat as it is a fancy mansion with a big fence around it. It was built between 1899 - 1902 and was historically the royal family's summer residence. To this day, the Queen still uses it is a summer vacation spot.

The park was a little bit more crowded than the pictures might suggest, but it wasn't nearly as busy as I've seen it on weekends. Still, there was much going on all around; barbequeing, picnicking, impromptu games of soccer, cricket and something called 'Kongspiller,' which sadly has nothing to do with King Kong, but I will very soon learn how to play and post about later. I followed a pathway that skirts around the main green of the park and ultimately lead to what I initially thought was an amphitheater of some kind, but soon discovered something much more interesting and historically relevant. I approached this structure at its top and eventually found myself looking down into where the majority of the aforementioned memories are preserved.


The monument at Mindeparken was pretty spectacular if I might say so myself. I quickly scurried down the path that leads into its entrance, which gradually descends as it wraps around the side of the structure. Once I got down to the base of the entrance, I was at least fifteen feet below the top portion that is exposed to the rest of the park. I entered and probably scared away a group of teenagers who were most likely up to no good. I gazed around and saw names inscribed into the rounded inner wall of the courtyard. I then walked over to the main inscription directly across from the entrance, located in between four relief sculptures. The garb of the figures in the reliefs, the years atop the inscription ('1914 - 1918') and the many names etched in the limestone brought me to the conclusion that this was a memorial to fallen Danes of the Great War, more commonly referred to these days as World War I.



Through some later research, I learned that this monument was inaugurated in 1934 and lists the names of 4,140 Danes killed in WWI. Even though Denmark was a neutral nation during the conflict, she still traded with both the Central Powers and Allied Forces. She also saw some of her own living in other countries go off as volunteers for those particular armies. Moreover, a number of Danes from the southern part of Jutland (closest to the German border) lived in communities that were almost as much German as they were Danish. Many of these men served for the Central Powers with Germany, even if they were Danish-minded and had little reason to fight. The reliefs each depict a particular event in the timeline of Danish participation:


DEPARTURE: A somber goodbye to those leaving to fight.


WAR: Combat ensues.


PEACE: Weary soldiers rejoice the Armistice.


RETURN: Some wounded and others lost, costs are counted.

As I was finishing up taking in all the monument had to offer, a noisy family rushed in and began a game of tag in the courtyard. Some of the less interested children climbed up on to the wounded soldier above and started hanging and on to the figures and I think I saw one of them picking a grieving Private's nose. That somehow killed the moment and I left, having enjoyed my few moments of solitude. On my way out, I stopped to ask the couple I mentioned earlier a few questions. They were very nice and when I asked them what the park's monument commemorated, they responded "lost Danish soldiers of World War I ... or Two." I said I thought it was the latter, given the dates inscribed, to which they smiled and responded, "yeah, most likely." Before wearing out my welcome (their dinner smelled pretty good), I thanked them and went on my way. A great unexpected adventure indeed, I look forward to returning more often.

That's all for now, bedtime now and game time tomorrow. Be back shortly after with a recap. G'night.