Snow Place Like Home
Our 5:30am wake-up call found us a little weary on Saturday morning, though we were snapped out of the haze of sleep when we looked out the window. Snow had fallen through the night, and now lay as a thick blanket on the narrow roads of Stortorget. The thought of navigating our way through the still-falling snow in our gutless Ford Focus was sobering to say the least. Besides which, we were also going to be on our own today, with no local guide to navigate the roads and highways. Our itinerary dictated a 7am departure to Odense, where we would return again to see the first chestnut gelding whom we had seen on Wednesday morning. Following that, back to the sales barn to see the dark bay "Billy look-alike", and finally around 4pm to see the mare that Pele had shown us.
As we savored our last divine breakfast here at Hotel Statt, we discussed contingency plans, should we have any trouble in the snow. We agreed to head towards Copenhagen, since that's where we had to fly out of the following morning, and re-evaluate from there as to whether to continue on towards Odense. The snow was very heavy and falling fast as we left the hotel, and our ill-equipped vehicle skidded and struggled out of town and onto the country roads.



Jan had been kind enough to write down the address of the barn for us, as well as the phone number of the horse's owner, Jens. Courtenay drove, and I began to enter the information into the "Garmin" GPS, or Carmen, as we have nicknamed 'her'. It helps to have a name with which we can curse this machine when she directs us in the wrong way, or repeats herself in her grating mechanical voice. It soon became apparent that Carmen had no idea how to get to Odense. She had never heard of the town, and refused to recognize the address. Again, as I mentioned on Friday's update, it can require some creativity when entering Swedish and Danish addresses into the GPS system. I tried every combination I could think of, moving the information between the three categories of "street address", "postal code", and "city". Ironically, even though Carmen refused to recognize this location, she continued to try to direct us! Her Swedish accent is even worse than ours, and her phonetic proonunciation of the jumbled street names had lost it's charm at this point. After driving for an hour and covering a distance that should have taken half that time, I opted to phone Jens to inform him of our tardiness and hopefully receive some direction. He was very kind and gave me a rough idea of how to get there, and I told him that we would phone him from Copenhagen. Conditions being as they were, it was looking less and less likely that we would make the trek which normally takes three hours.
Much to our relief, after more than an hour of driving through the dense white pillows, the pavement started to show through as we neared the highway. It was still snowing, and the roads were far from clear, but at least progress could be made with some caution. It was about this time that Jens phoned, and informed us that he had arranged for a friend of his to pick us up at Copenhagen and act as driver for the rest of the trip. This news relieved us to no end and we agreed to meet this gentleman, Henrich, at a local McDonald's restaurant. It wasn't lost on us that this rendezvous point may have been selected with our nationality in mind, thinking that perhaps as North Americans we'd be able to locate a McDonald's by scent alone.
We pulled into the parking lot and immediately guessed that Henrich's car was probably the Mercedes SUV near the entrance. Once parked, we began to gather our things in preparation for the trip with Henrich. Just as we extricated ourselves from the Focus, or Death Trap we were coming to think of it, we saw a gentleman approaching. Extending his hand he introduced himself as Henrich, and promptly opened the driver's side door and got in. Courtenay and I exchanged confused glances before getting back in the car, she in the passenger's seat and myself in the back. Oddly enough, the McDonald's was still closed at 9am, so we asked to stop at the neighboring service station to make use of the facilities. In Sweden and Denmark the restrooms are labelled "Toiletter" and if you ask to use the washroom you generally get a blank stare. Henrich was no exception and only understood when we used the word toilet. In an effort to be efficent and not keep our kind driver waiting, Courtenay and I both entered the building at once, only giving slight pause to the fact that we had now left our rental car with a complete stranger at the wheel! Thankfully he was still there when we returned, and we buckled up as our adventure resumed.
It didn't take long for Henrich to regret his decision to drive the Focus. He basically said, "This is a shit car!" and commended us for having made it this far in the treacherous conditions. We had noted that we hadn't seen another Ford vehicle during all our travelling in Sweden and Denmark, the roads being dominated by Mercedes and BMWs. Nevertheless Henrich handled the car and knew the roads, so as the snow dissipated we began to make up time.
Jens greeted us upon our arrival to the farm in Odense. He showed us in and Courtenay rode the gelding again, this time warming him up herself, and once again finding that the horses respond so much better once they are acquainted with the rider.



After that Jens and Henrich accompanied us to a charming restaurant where we renewed our energy with soup and salads, as well as some warm drinks to defrost our circulatory systems.
From there Henrich took us back to see the bay gelding, who was just over an hour away. His owner and rider greeted us with coffee and brought him into the ring. He was even better today, demonstrating his talent for the pirouettes and showing his willingness in the piaffe and passage work. When Courtenay asked if she could have a little help with an in-hand whip, his trainer responded with our new favorite word, "Absoluuuut!". Really I'm sure it's just spelled with one U, but it's important to emphasize the drawing-out of that last syllable.



Our next destination had us doubling back towards Copenhagen, so Henrich drove us back to the McDonald's. On the way we chatted about horses, bloodlines, and young horse development, as Henrich explained to us that he owned a large-scale breeding operation and always has good young horses available. In fact, he explained that he had bred and sold the Swedish team horse, "Solo's Carex" some years before. We reached our McDonald's where we bid him farewell, pleased to have made another contact in Europe.
Although the snow had stopped falling, it was with trepidation that we set out towards our final appointment for the day. It was nearing 5pm and getting dark out when we left the highway for the snowy country roads. Carmen the GPS was doing her job, and we had about 15 minutes left before our arrival when the fuel light came on. Convinced that Carmen and the Focus were conspiring against us, we imagined being stranded on the snowy plains of Denmark, as temperatures plummeted and the wild boars descended upon us. Normally this nightmare would include bears, but at lunchtime Henrich and Jens had informed us that there were no bears, or moose for that matter, anywhere nearby. This came up in conversation when they asked us about arranging a hunting expedition to Canada, where they hoped to snag some hides worthy of display in their homes. But I digress.
We managed to make it to the humble farm without incident, and I stood shivering with the owner and rider as Courtenay rode the mare. We were surprised to hear that some of the residents in the barn had just returned from a horse show - and here we were afraid to drive our little car! Jens had also mentioned being at a competition earlier that morning with one of his young horses. The sport of dressage really is taken seriously all year round here, not like back home where most people don't ride if the temperatures are unpleasant!
Once finished with the mare, we asked for directions to a gas station and one of the gentlemen there graciously offered to lead us in his car as it was on his way. Never were we so glad to see a fuel station, and the kind man even stopped to make sure we could read the directions on the pump, and that we knew how to get back to the highway. This type of treatment seemed standard during our time in Denmark and Sweden. Whether in part due to our status as 'customers', nevertheless we were made to feel at home and safe at all times. I wouldn't have hesitated to call up any one of the people we had met, had we encountered any problems I know they would have come to our aid.
Our last night in Denmark was spent at the Hilton in Copenhagen, certainly higher in luxury but not beating the character of the little Hotel Statt. Preparing for a 3:30am wake up call, we tried to get more than our standard four hours of sleep, though not surprisingly with all of our correspondence, (primarily Courtenay's Facebook updates) it was close to midnight by the time the lights went out. And so drew to a close our travels and adventures in Scandinavia.
The quality and training of the horses we saw here was simply outstanding. When planning our trip, we had wondered if we would find one such horse, and now Courtenay is faced with having to evaluate several top-class horses, each with their unique strengths and talents. This decision will not likely get any easier as we head off to Germany on Sunday, where over the next 4 days, we will be guided by Canadian team member, Evi Strasser. It will be another whirlwind, so keep checking in!

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