The adventures continue...

Yesterday I donned my last pair of lab gloves and pipetted my last as a postdoc. Tomorrow evening I'll leave Aarhus, Brighton bound. I have no idea what's waiting for me, but can't pretend I'm disappointed to be moving on. Join me for the next chapter of my adventures, post academia, at the new blog I'm building up: leftattherabbithole.blogspot.com

"Les soldes" come to Denmark

Like Santa on double-duty, les soldes (the sales) come but twice a year. Any Parisienne can tell you that these are the times to hit the stores without breaking the bank: January-early February, and July-early August. So what's a displaced Parisian with a thing for shoes to do in a city with a disappointingly drab sense of fashion? Let me introduce you to my new favorite way to lose (at least) a half hour: spartoo.com.

This French shoe site sells every sort of shoe you can imagine, from bargain basement to runway fashion. The deals come January/July (or better yet, tail-end super mark-downs in early February/August) are unbeatable when it comes to massive selection and bang for your buck (or euro, or kroner, or whatever your preferred currency). This site became my favorite way to blow off steam (and spare euros) when I discovered it while writing my doctoral thesis. What really did me in this year was my recent discovery of spartoo.dk. (And don't think you're immune, dear non-French non-Dane reader: there's spartoo.co.uk, .de, .es, .it, etc, but if you're still not covered, spartoo.net offers free delivery to over 150 countries.) With over 1000 brands, free returns, free exchanges, and customer advice on sizing of each individual shoe model, what's not to love?

An assortment of Spartoo goodies to have greeted me in Denmark

And now that I'm gearing up to become a businesswoman, scouring this site has become a gleeful obligation! This season's July "soldes" have officially launched this week, and I was all over them. From the confines of my damp and chilly Scandinavian country, I just had to share the joy that came with these little parcels of Parisian pleasure. I might not be able to step foot in Paris these days, but my feet have Paris all over them.

The Michelin tour of Aarhus, Part 3

Having tested Aarhus's Michelin Bib restaurants in March and April, we readied ourselves for the big league. Aarhus's Nordisk Spisehus is one-of-a-kind, a restaurant that collaborates with Michelin starred restaurants around the world to craft new themed menus every two months. I'd first been introduced to the concept during my university job interview at the start of last year, and had been itching to take Nicolas here ever since.

I've been hanging on to the cards that came with each course of the tasting menu during my interview dinner, until the day I could finally make it to Nordisk Spisehus.

Finally, the time had come. With lunch menus literally half the cost of dinner, we decided to bump our dining time slot up to early afternoon. We arrived with just a light breakfast in our stomachs, ready to dig in. Today's menu theme: Copenhagen.

The meal began exquisitely with delicious dark bread to rival the likes of that in Tallinn, accompanied by a whipped butter-yogurt blend that was light in texture but rich in flavor. For starters, I had a shrimp and asparagus dish, and Nicolas a salad with ham and fresh cheese. We followed this up with fish and chips for me (much to my surprise to see this on such a fancy menu), complete with lemon, estragon, and cucumber dipping sauces, and a chicken dish with peas and garlic for Nicolas. Finally, we both enjoyed a light dessert of rhubarb and anis covered in almond ice cream, topped with thin sheets of rhubarb- and anis-flavored candies. (My Danish server did not pronounce "anis" correctly and I had to fight to hold in my laughter. I am not yet a grown-up.)

Lunch at Nordisk Spisehus, Copenhagen theme

The ingredients were high quality, the flavors balanced well, and overall we were very pleased with the meal, perhaps our best in Aarhus to date. The visit served as a delicious way to start to say goodbye to this city, revisiting the first restaurant that welcomed me in.

I think it's finally spring

The bravest of flowers have opened their petals, the nights are no longer endless, and we've finally shed our heaviest winter coats. I think it may be finally time to say it's spring in Aarhus!

The Michelin tour of Aarhus, Part 2

Continuing our quest to find the best eat in town, we visited Aarhus's other Michelin "Bib Gourmand," Hæværk, last night. The restaurant can best be described as cozy, intimate, informal, and trendy, in short, the definition of the Danish concept hygge. The restaurant recently changed their tasting menu to pre-dinner snacks and 5 courses including a choice of dessert or cheese platter for 450 kroner (approx. $68 US). Going meat-free (but still eating fish) was easily accommodated.

Seating along a raised table at which parties were separated by stacks of cookbooks

Hæværk isn't your usual restaurant. There is no menu, and your chef will surprise you dish by dish. The restaurant works with local ingredients that may be limited in quantity, so you might not even be eating the same thing as your neighboring table. Course after course continued to surprise and impress us with the expertly balanced blends of flavors, textures, colors, and spices. We found the service to be friendly, if a bit slow, and (as per the Danish norm) very skilled in English.  No longer the novices in tasting menus that we once were, we restricted our wine pairing rather than trying to keep up glass per course. This way, we and our wallets can really appreciate every last course, and can even afford to add on extra sweets and coffee/tea guilt-free.

Our Hæværk tasting menu

Overall, I was very impressed, and frankly surprised that Pondus and Hæværk had even been placed in the same category. No question as to the winner of my Michelin Bib Gourmand competition. The only thing left to ask is when we can make our next reservation!

The Michelin tour of Aarhus, Part 1

The little city of Aarhus is a foodie destination, and it's finally earned its Michelin seal of approval. Just last year, in Michelin's first Nordic Cities guide, Aarhus received its first set of stars, one each to three high-end restaurants, and two "Bib Gourmands" for notable restaurants in a more affordable budget range. To begin our exploration on the wallet-friendly end, Nicolas and I made reservations for each of the 2015 "Bib Gourmands," Pondus and Hærværk.

This weekend, we sampled the Pondus package: appetizers and sparkling wine, 3 courses paired with wines, desserts, and coffee for 575 kr (approx. $72) per person. Things started off quite well with the snacks, whose flavors were complex and nicely balanced.

Unfortunately, the selection went downhill from here. Full points for presentation, but that's where the high praise starts and ends. Between Nicolas's carnivorous and my pescatarian menus, we tasted nearly everything the restaurant had to offer, but our experiences generally matched: The flavors were consistently oddly paired and unbalanced, with one individual flavor (like seaweed) strongly dominating without presenting anything particularly interesting or appealing. It's not that any dish was awful, but nothing worth writing home over (despite the fact that I'm doing just that).

Dishes from our tasting menus at Pondus, one of Aarhus's two Michelin "Bib Gourmand" restaurants

The deconstructed crumble topped with chipped blocks of meringue wrapped up the meal with no more talent than what I enjoy on a daily basis at home. I certainly wouldn't want to downplay the skills of my wonderful personal chef, but I do expect something more at a Michelin-noted restaurant.

Deconstructed crumble and coffee/tea wrapped up our mediocre meal at Pondus

No need to rush on making your next Pondus reservation. I'd hardly call myself a foodie, but still I wasn't impressed. We walked away with a mutual shrug as to how it'd earned its rating.

The romantic side of Aarhus

If you've known me for more than a minute, you've probably been informed that I find Aarhus dull. But in honor of Valentine's Day, I thought I'd take a moment to explore the softer side of this little city I now call home. After all, such an occasion is a fantastic excuse for a nice meal out.

There may not be much going on here, but this city has no shortage of dining opportunities. In fact, the Telegraph recently named Aarhus the culinary capital of Denmark! In 2015, for the first time, restaurants in Aarhus received Michelin stars. Three of them, even—one star per venue. The city is also home to Nordisk Spisehus, an amazing concept: this restaurant partners with Michelin-starred restaurants across the globe to create regularly changing themed menus. If I hadn't been sold on Aarhus University, the trip here at the end of my interview for their five-course tasting menu with paired wines sealed the deal. While our budget these past few months has been too tight to splurge on the fancy places, stay tuned for a 2016 tour de Michelin-starred-restaurants starting this spring.

For some charming lighter fare, we settled on A. C. Perch's Tea Room, a Danish tea merchant who first set up shop in Copenhagen in 1885, and has added tea rooms to its shops recently.

Our little table at A. C. Perch's Tea Room

This tea house has venues in Copenhagen and Aarhus, and offers over 150 varieties of tea, finger sandwiches, cakes, scones, and sparkling French wine. It turned out that Nicolas wasn't even aware of the concept of high tea, so the decision was simple really. After many years of putting up with French culture, which mostly enjoys its blissful ignorance of the existence of Valentine's Day (despite the best commercial efforts of French merchants), I forced my Frenchman into a (belated) Valentine's outing.

Overall, the food was nice but simple. The tea room is small, with just about a dozen tables, and it's a good idea to book online in advance. The atmosphere was charming, at once elegant but also intimate, cozy in that way the Danes have perfected. The scones were the highlight, warm, soft, and oh-so-buttery. Served with a selection of fresh jam, creamy lemon curd, and clotted cream, they were just the perfect accompaniment for a warm pot of tea. And the selection of tea was enough to excite a tea enthusiast such as myself.

The "classic ceremony" high tea for two at A. C. Perch's Tea Room

I suspect we'll return, at the least to test some more teas and to slather a few scones in clotted cream.

And the winners are...

If I wasn't already homesick for the City of Lights, this just did me in: last weekend, Paris hosted the latest international pole dance competition, Pole Theater Paris. And with the shotty internet connections which are endemic to Aarhus, I could hardly even stream more than a performance or two. Thank goodness for youtube.

If you aren't in the loop, the pole community has yet to come to a uniform consensus on how to categorize and judge their competitors, but they're working on it. Poleranking, which aims to bring together the international pole community, offers these categories: Pro and Semi-Pro, based on skill level, and in addition to an overall winner in each category, there are prizes for art, drama, comedy, and classique. This leaves space to acknowledge some very different performance styles, from those who perform vertical ballet/gymnastics to those who tell a story through their costume, music, and choreography, to those who adhere to pole's origins in the strip clubs ("pole classique"). Pole studios don't generally specialize in any one of these categories, leaving each athlete to develop his or her own style. You may even find, as I have, that one studio is home to several instructors with very different performance styles.

I'm excited to give a couple shout-outs to some of the winners from last weekend. First of all, Louise, who frequents my studio here in Aarhus, BPoleFit, took the Pro Category Pole Art award with this performance.

And secondly, one of my very first instructors from back in Paris won Semi-Pro Pole Classique with this beautifully racy performance.

It doesn't take long to notice this performance is more stereotypical "pole dance." Frankly, that doesn't make it any less of an accomplishment or an art. Deciding it isn't your style (or mine) shouldn't open the floodgates to moral judgment. This performance is an integral part, the heart even, of the larger pole community that exists today. A lot of controversy has built up over #notastripper, a popular tag polers like to use when sharing their photos and videos. This sentiment is problematic as it furthers the stigmatization of sex workers and denies the very origins of the sport itself. It's important to recognize, and certainly not ostracize, the women who helped found this sport. I'm not going to take too much time to hash out this topic, but if you're curious, feel free to check out what the Daily Dot has to say on the topic. 

A new year, a new look

Happy new year from snowy Aarhus!

After a couple of weeks back stateside, exchanging presents, testing apple cider mimosas, and camping out with cousins,

Family Christmas 2015 (including the family trip to the Franklin Institute)

having survived a bus trip up to frosty Toronto to catch up with friends and family,

Toronto, until we meet again

and even squeezing in a day-trip through the Big Apple,

There's nothing quite like Rockefeller Center and the windows at Saks Fifth Avenue at Christmastime.

I've dived back into the Scandinavian winter, which is finally more wintery this side of the new year.

Mars couldn't quite decide if today's snowflakes needed chasing or were fierce enemies to run from.

And in keeping with the fresh starts that come along with the new year, I'm going to be striving for something new when it comes to this blog. For now I'm thinking of rotating weekly updates on my four favorite themes: science, pole dance, Aarhus, and travel. I'm not sure yet just how I'll spin it, but keep an eye out.

Our first Christmas in Aarhus

As Christmas seasons are wont to do, this year's in Aarhus flew by. Being our first in Denmark, it was filled with cultural discoveries, from the charming to the somewhat disappointing. To lay it out there, the Danes aren't big on lavish holiday displays. Unlike New York or Paris, Aarhus doesn't light up for the holidays. Beyond a few major shopping streets and the mall, the streets were as dark as ever, which is saying something given the amount of daylight this far north at this time of year.

It felt like I scoured the entire city to find this much outward expression of holiday cheer. Showy is one word you can't put on the Danes.

The Christmas markets also weren't something to write home about. If it hadn't been for the mulled wine, "gløgg," which the Danes have really mastered, I'd have been hard-pressed to find much to tempt me past the first couple of disappointments. France spoiled me, in more ways than one. But then again, there were the æbleskriver, the puffy bite-sized pancake balls that the Danes dip in powdered sugar and jam around the holidays. I guess there were a couple things to keep me coming back.

The Christmas markets aren't all they're cracked up to be in Aarhus.

Luckily, you can forget about the Christmas markets over a gløgg and some æbleskriver.

All this is hardly to say that the Danes don't do Christmas. Far from it. The entire month leading up to the holiday is filled with Christmas parties for offices, departments, clubs, teams, and friends. These epic all-night parties (which is saying something, since the sun sets before 4pm and doesn't rise until nearly 9am) are called the Julefrokost, or Christmas lunch, though I still haven't figured out why they call an evening event a lunch. Perhaps it's just typical Danish modesty, as calling it a dinner might sound haughty. Who knows? Regardless, the julefrokost does include a large sit-down meal loaded with all sorts of typical Danish foods: liver paté, lots of red cabbage, "sweet potatoes" (literally potatoes coated in caramelized sugar), duck, and the classic Christmas rice pudding with whipped cream, almond slivers, and cherry compote, the risalamand. Lurking in the depths of the risalamand is a whole almond, whose discoverer is rewarded with prizes like sweets or small gifts. The trouble with trying to slip in a whole almond in a dish packed with almond slivers is that finding the fugitive isn't always so easy. Mix in a few shots of schnapps and the whole almond can go down all too easily, leaving everyone's stomachs packed with the rice pudding— it absolutely had to be searched— and the prize unclaimed, as happened with us this year. (A subsequent dance-off seemed the only logical way to resolve the issue of who should take home the prize.)

Mmm, risalamand. (Prize not included.)

One of my favorite touches of a Danish Christmas is their advent calendar. It's got to be one of the most simple yet charming interpretations I've seen so far. Very fitting for the Danes in their constant quest for hygge, or cozy charm.

Nearly done counting down the days!

And with all that, it's time for me to call it a night. From the Billund airport, where I await my absurdly early Christmas Eve flight home, I'd like to wish you a very merry Christmas.

A Danish Expat Thanksgiving

The Danes may do the Fourth of July, and they've even imported Black Friday, but Thanksgiving has yet to cross the pond. And so I was pleased to induct a large group of newbies into my favorite American holiday this weekend. This year's grand challenge was the turkey, a responsibility I'd managed to hand off every year since I'd begun finding the bird in Paris. There was simply no more dodging the bullet. Luckily, my househusband*'s master culinary skills (I think the French are just born with it), finely honed over the past few months, came to the rescue. Wrapped in aluminum and stuffed with herbs and lemon for flavoring, our turkey came out surprisingly moist and flavorful. (*Nicolas is at home now while in professional transition and I'm affectionately calling him my househusband. You haven't missed out on any surprise wedding.)

A Thanksgiving turkey success thanks to Nicolas

Allrecipes.com was our best friend this weekend. Besides the turkey, we tested out a collection of recipes: gravy with a hint of tomato paste, buttermilk cornbread (with wholewheat flour), a "Thanksgiving turkey" bourbon citrus cocktail, sweet potato casserole, pumpkin pie cheesecake, and a traditional American hot buttered rum. Coupled with our friends' salads, curry, cheesy bread snacks, mashed potatoes, brownies, and sugar pie, we had ourselves a proper feast.

Our Thanksgiving feast

Our guests hailed from places as diverse as Germany, Denmark, France, Hungary, Ireland, Canada, Honduras, the Faroe Islands, and (if you want to count country of origin) even Bosnia and Iraq. By comparison, Nicolas was a seasoned veteran clocking in his second Thanksgiving. In all, it was a real melting pot of a Thanksgiving which, in a sense, couldn't have been more American, in spite of the total lack of American guests. It didn't take much arm-twisting to convince our foreign friends that the Americans have a few good ideas when it comes to this celebration.

The Thanksgiving bouquet brightened up our windowsill to bring some extra holiday cheer.

All in all, it was a wonderful Turkey Day.

A visit to the queen's place

A week filled with curry, boeuf bourgignon, barbecues, and beers zipped past. Before we knew it, my parents' last day in Aarhus had arrived. And what better way to spend it than with a visit to the beach and a local palace? We kicked things off with a visit to Bellevue Beach. Because yes, I may have made the inexplicable decision to live in Scandinavia, but it comes with proper sandy beaches, so ha!

Bellevue Beach

And then we swung by Marselisborg Palace, Queen Margrethe's summer residence. 

A tour through Marselisborg Palace grounds

As the queen wasn't in residence, we had the opportunity to spend the afternoon wandering the grounds. And, as you can see from the bottom right corner of the above collage, security at this royal residence wasn't exactly White House style. 

The grounds of the Marselisborg Palace haven't always been the territory of the royal family, but they did have some history as royal grounds in the 17th century. Then, in 1661, the seriously indebted King Frederik III of Denmark was forced to surrender this palace, among other properties, to his Dutch creditor, a certain Gabriel Marselis. Marselis's sons managed to upgrade the grounds from a manor to a barony, but the family couldn't keep their hands on the land. The last private owner was Hans Peter Ingerslev, who decided to offer his lands for sale to the city council of Aarhus, and then suddenly died two days later. (Not at all fishy...) The town council decided to build the palace, which was completed in 1902. The palace and its surrounding property was returned to royal hands as a wedding gift for Prince Christian and Princess Alexandrine, Queen Margrethe's grandparents. The palace has since been a secondary royal residence.

We were surprised by how freely we were allowed to wander around, touch the sculptures, picnic on the lawns, play in the guard stands, hike through the woods, or even take a nap in the gardens should the mood strike. It was definitely a memorable way to spend our last afternoon of a visit together.

A Viking's welcome

The Vikings turned out in droves to welcome my parents on their first full day in Denmark. There may or may not have also been an annual Viking Moot (festival) to attract them to the Moesgård beaches, but I am confident that that really was secondary.

My parents received a full viking welcome on their first full day in town.

Beware the Viking Battle! (photo courtesy of Tibor)

The Moesgård Viking Moot began in the 1970s as a place for people to take lessons in Viking crafts. It rapidly expanded, drawing crowds and picnickers. In 1977, the first Viking market was held. Today, Moesgård hosts the world's largest Viking festival, falling around Saint Olai Day (July 29), when Aarhus historically hosted a market. 

The Viking Moot crafts fair (photos courtesy of Tibor)

The Viking Moot is open to the public on Saturday and Sunday, but lasts all day and night, with Viking participants living only on Viking technologies for the weekend (including ocean bathing, which they weren't ashamed to do right in front of the day-time visitors!).

The Vikings camped on the seashore all weekend. (Photo courtesy of Tibor)

Though despite the not particularly welcome boldness of some of them, some of the Vikings were quite the charmers!

Viking babies! (Photos courtesy of Tibor and my mom)

The only word of advice for future visitors is to not show up in heels. But as a recent Paris transplant, what's a girl to do?

Hats (or Viking hoods) off to the Moesgård crowd for a perfectly Danish welcome to my mom and dad!

Bienvenue chez Nicolas et Emilienne

81 landlords contacted, 2 ½ apartment visits, and 1 offer led me to my new home on the first of the month. It took another three weeks of bumbling around a half empty apartment while scouring used furniture sites, negotiating with local delivery men and the world's worst set of movers, and waiting for packages to arrive from every corner of the globe before we were officially chez nous.

At long last, the apartment is ready and waiting for its first set of official house guests: my parents! As we wait for their train to bring them to town, I figured I'd show off with a few before and after shots.

Ta da! Our nearly finished masterpiece that we call home. 

And it's no Eiffel Tower, but the view's not half bad, to boot.

Let's pretend that summer made it to Denmark...

Burn the witches!

The solstice may fall on the 21st, but in Denmark, Midsummer's Eve is June 23, also known as Sankt Hans Aften (Sankt Hans for short), the eve of Saint John's Day. As legend has it, the shortest night of the year is filled with evil forces and tension between light and dark. On this night, witches fly by on their way to Brocken, though my Danish friends weren't quite sure where that is. To keep them away, a scarecrow-esque witch is burned on a large bonfire. (I was relieved to read that the midsummer's eve witch burning is only a late-19th/early-20th century addition to the festivities, not a carry-over from a time when real women were burned as such.)

The university took part in the annual tradition, so my new friends and I gathered after work to join in. Supposedly Sankt Hans also involves singing of the traditional Midsommervisen song, but all I saw of that was a few students clustered around an iphone looking for the lyrics and stumbling over a melody. Overall, the setting looked more like Hollywood's interpretation of a college campus than anything I'd actually seen on an American campus. And the bonfire, scarecrow witch and all, was massive and very impressive, though I could have done without the rain of ashes. Overall, kudos to Denmark on a pretty cool national tradition.

Sankt Hans, or Midsummer's Eve, at Aarhus University. In the bottom left panel, you can barely see the scarecrow witch's head, the only part of her not yet consumed in the traditional midsummer's eve bonfire.

Getting to know Denmark

I'm two weeks in to life as an adoptive Dane (and already hopping my first weekend flight back to Paris). As I await boarding at my gate, I thought I'd take a moment to give a recap of what I've done and learned so far in Denmark.

In just two weeks, I've gotten

• my national id number and cards
• my residence permit card
• my national health insurance card
• my new apartment (move-in date: July 1)
• my bank account and debit card
• my bike, fully equipped with lights, locks, and basket
• and my new pole dance school

Clearly I'm not in France anymore. On one hand, a health insurance card in two weeks?? Try two years! That's what it took me and many of my foreigner friends back in France. On the other hand, getting the apartment in a mere two weeks was just short of miraculous. Even the steely resolve of someone who faced the Paris housing market is put to the test in Aarhus, where contacting over 80 landlords to visit 3 apartments was very much par for the course. To find that one cat-friendly home, I had to exit the city borders. I'll be calling Aarhus Nord my home soon enough.

My new home in Aarhus Nord starting July 1

I've also made a lot of half-baked observations of the Danes over the past couple of weeks:

• Don't let the fact that a breed of dog is named after them trick you into thinking these people are big animal-lovers. It is next to impossible to rent an apartment as an animal owner here.
• Generally, home renters have no rights here. Landlords demand anywhere from 5 to 9 months' rent to be paid upfront when signing a contract, and at least 3 of those months go straight down the drain here in the form of a security deposit that you'll never see again. All apartment maintenance also comes at the renter's expense. And requiring renters to move out two weeks prior to contract termination is also considered standard, giving the landlord time to plough through that security deposit which he or she has no intention of returning.
• The young people just seem to grow up much faster. In fact, part of the reason that I believe you don't see people up in arms over the total lack of home renter rights is that a lot of people buy homes here at a very young age. It seems that many Danes spend their 20s saving up, settling down, and even starting a family. I am astounded by how many young mothers I have seen biking their babies around the university campus.
• Speaking of campus, Aarhus University, despite its nondescript pale yellow brick architecture, is quite possibly the prettiest campus I have ever seen. With its verdant rolling hills, its lake, and its winding streets filled with bikes that snake through the grounds, I am continually amazed by how beautiful this place is. (Maybe I'll be less enthused come winter.)

Aarhus U campus: you had me as soon as I spotted your cat gutter spout

• If ever a country lived by the saying Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise, it is the Danes. These people seem to enjoy arriving at work between 7 and 8am, some even earlier!, and then leaving between 2 and 4pm. And yes, if you add those hours up, it's not really so much time spent working. I'm not sure how they get anything done here, but I might be cracking their recipe for being the happiest nation on earth.
• Let's add to that Danish happiness recipe their clubs. The Danes all love leaving work early to spend time with their clubs before heading home. Be it jogging, horseback riding, biking, or some other activity (though it seems most of them are sports-related), every Dane has got a club, or so our university orientation leaders taught us. In fact, they stressed the social importance of these clubs so much that they made a surveymonkey online survey to assess your interests and help pair you with a club in case you cannot find your own.
• One stereotype is true: the Danes bike everywhere.
• Breaking another stereotype, the Danes are not all blond (though many are) and they are not so tall such that I feel like I'm walking through a forest when I enter the school cafeteria.
• The Danes are very polite. And I am having an infinitely easier time making friends here than in Paris. And that without even speaking the local language! The Danes are unusually good at English, probably the best in Europe outside of the UK/Ireland. And yet, many of them continue to apologize for their "inadequate English-language skills," which makes me think that they have not traveled much, or that humble-bragging is a national past time.
• Though they have a lot going for them in terms of height, hair and eye color, and general disposition, the Danes are miles behind the French in one domain: fashion. These people just do not seem to be terribly interested in dressing to impress. A woman in heels on her way to work or a day in the city? Not in this country.
• Not only is every day casual Friday, but they act like it too: it is very normal to address everyone by first name in this country.
• Totally random as it may be, licorice is just huge here. You have not explored the multitude of licorice-flavored possibilities until you walk through the candy aisle in a Danish supermarket.
• And finally, Denmark is the proud home of Legos, even boasting an airport in the middle of nowhere (where you can find me now), strategically located right near their theme park attraction: Legoland.

Billund Airport, aka the Legoland airport, has a giant Lego store and a Lego play station.

So Denmark's not so bad, except for their chilly excuse for late spring. Still, I'm really missing Paris, and counting down the minutes 'till I'm back in a city whose language makes sense to me.

Oh, and one last thing. In Denmark, apparently it makes sense (to someone, at least) to erect a fountain of a peeing piglet right outside city hall. It seems I still have a lot to learn before I understand the Danes.

The Pig Fountain in Aarhus's City Hall Square

Ready for Denmark

Now the proud owner of this beauty!

Denmark, bring it. (But really, if "it" could mean summer weather, I'd be ever so grateful.)

La vie est belle... in Denmark?

While wandering around Aarhus this evening, at first I thought I was missing France so much that I was seeing things. Then I realized that the Danes, enthusiastic flag wavers that they are, have not restricted their fondness for flags to their own nation's colors. I am pretty sure that I spotted more French flags/French-flag-themed deco in one afternoon in Aarhus (Denmark) than I saw in the past six years in Paris (the capital of France). If only I understood their language enough to understand what the Danes are up to...

Bienvenue au Danemark!

Whatever this "Latiner Festival" was about, I can only assume it was some sort of celebration of the victorious homecoming of their recent steal from the French, yours truly.

Bonus shot: double rainbows in Aarhus on my first weekend in town

The big move

Heartbroken as I was to have to finally leave, I don't think this move could have been more perfect in all its unplanned, delayed, and imprecise style. Packing my apartment was a whirlwind in and of itself.

At last, my apartment was packed and (nearly) ready for the movers.

Over the past few weeks, I've had at least a half-dozen goodbye gatherings, including two for some other friends' departures which I high-jacked to say my own goodbyes, a few random one-on-one coffees/ drinks/ dinners with various friends, a party or two (including a last-hurrah pool party on my rooftop), and a picnic on the Seine.

Our last illicit rooftop pool party

We really got down to business yesterday: movers day. And at just the same moment when it seemed that the last of my happy moments in Paris had been boxed up and shipped off, that the last of my living ties to the city were being trimmed away, I found myself surrounded by unexpected kindness, support, joy, and even fun. When a near-disaster with my movers resulted in a call for back-up muscle-power, my last night in France morphed into a final evening enjoying the panoramic views from the off-limits parts of my rooftop and a celebratory five-course dinner in a fantastic restaurant, La Cantine du Troquet in the 14th.

Spending the evening with good friends really helped soften the blow of it being my last night in Paris.

Our fantastic impromptu five-course dinner at La Cantine du Troquet made memories with a much longer aftertaste than the food.

And today, my race through my last day in Paris required me to store a few suitcases in a friend's lab at the Institut Pasteur, which of course required me to do one last coffee with my Pasteur friends just before heading to the airport. Like a scene straight out of a movie, two of my best friends even waved me off as my Uber taxi drove me to my airport shuttle. I nearly cried. And then came the weirdest part:

When it was all finally done-- bags packed, apartment keys handed in, final letters in the French postal system, extra bags stocked in Nicolas's dad's spare Parisian apartment, group hugs hugged-- when I was sitting there in the Orly airport shuttle watching the ticker-tape count down the minutes until my many bags and I would arrive in the airport, I found myself overwhelmed by a strange sense of euphoria. Though there were many moments when I imagined it impossible, Paris really had become home over my nearly six years there. And now this much anticipated move was really happening. It was unscripted yet better than I'd have hoped for, and I felt so much love. Even strangers kept offering to help me with luggage. I don't know if it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that at this point I'd realized that I had forgotten to eat all day (and we were rapidly approaching 8pm), but I was suddenly on the brink of *happy* tears. And I've ridden the high until now-- though no longer on an empty stomach-- as I find myself starting to fight the heaviness of my eyelids from the comfy seat of my Aarhus-bound train.

Denmark, I have arrived.

Land of the vikings, prepare yourself: Emilienne is here.

Paris-Aarhus, trip 1 of 3

I pause from my typing to crane my neck around my neighbors and peer out my plane window over the French landscape, trying not to think too hard about a firey end as the turbulence vibrates through my feet and we continue our descent. No matter how many flights I take, it seems I'm always convinced that each one will be my last. France is now literally underfoot-- if with more of a separation between land and foot than to my liking-- and so I can now successfully check off trip 1 of 3 on my list off Paris-Aarhus journeys over the next month. I'm moving there next week, but the awkward timing of a departmental retreat resulted in an extra round trip just a week prior, and awkward timing on the French side of things will bring me back a mere two weeks later to attend my doctoral graduation ceremony.

Sandbjerg Manor, home of the DANDRITE Retreat 2015

Well, for lack of time to continue documenting my excessively international lifestyle, suffice it to say that the kids are my new school were nice to me, but that I'm still scared.

The founding members of the fledgling Yonehara team at the DANDRITE Retreat

I've never moved to a country whose language I didn't speak at all. Yes, the Danes speak fantastic English, but no matter how American I can try to make myself appear, that won't stop them from still predominantly speaking in my presence in a language which is really (vocab: really=rigtig in Danish!) an unknown to me. While I'm loving the ipad language learning apps, they can only go so far compared to semesters or years of language studies. This new chapter is definitely going to come with unique challenges. So it's about time to tape down those last few boxes chez moi and take a deep breath.

In and around Aarhus, soon to be my new home base

Here goes nothing.