And now the latest in unpronounceable travel: we introduce the most northerly point of mainland Europe, the Knivskjellodden peninsula in Norway. This spit of land is actually the true northernmost point of Europe, being just a fraction of a degree further north than the tourist hype of the North Cape.
That said, there's not actually much to see in Knivskjellodden. A small monument confirms the high latitude and there's a visitor's book where you can record your presence. Oh, and you'll have to make an 11 mile there-and-back hike to reach it--Knivskjellodden is so remote there isn't even bus service.
But it's worth to tell all your friends you stood on the most northerly point of Europe, right? Just hope they don't ask you to say its name.
If tucking into a plate of Welsh food with a bunch of locals from Wales is not quite to your taste, we've dug up another alternative: Dine With The Danes.
We're talking people from Denmark, not Danes of the Great variety. As with the Welsh system, families in Copenhagen and beyond will open their hearts and dining rooms to you, with results like this:
We enjoyed the homey touches of Denmark; candles, flowers & we felt rather worldly when we ate our Danish open sandwiches properly.
Hopefully it's not just all herring and throat-burning spirits.
A friend of Jaunted just got back from a jaunt through Scandinavia and gave us a tip on what turns out to be the most visited museum in the whole of the region. Their website even goes so far to say that it's one of the foremost tourist sights in the world, so we thought we'd better keep you informed.
It's the Vasa Museum in Stockholm, which houses a completely intact 17th century warship with quite a story behind it.
Sinking Titanic-like on its maiden voyage in 1628, but without the iceberg excuse (apparently it was just badly designed), the massive ship was rediscovered and dragged back up into the light in 1961.
It's now on display as the largest ever preserved object, and has been housed in a specially-designed building since 1990. Plenty of science has gone into both pulling this nifty ship outta the water and keeping it looking good. It must be worth seeing--all those visitors can't be wrong.
Find an adult who didn't dream of visiting Legoland as a kid and we'll ... do something awful to such a twisted mind. Maybe it's just us, but surely a visit to the home of those brightly-colored blocks is secretly near the top of many a travel wish list. There are impostors elsewhere, but the original Danish version in Billund recently got a big thumbs-up from a UK Times review.
So what do you actually do at Legoland? While we thought that it was just an endless number of Lego bricks joined together, it seems there is a range of weird attractions next to the expected rides and roller coasters, including:
panning for gold (sifting gravel in a wooden trough) and then having it "melted" into a medal in the Wild West village Legoredo; cooking a bread roll on the end of a very long stick over an open fire and learning to drive an electric car.
We can only hope that open fire isn't burning Lego logs. That couldn't be healthy.
Ever thought your hometown's name was a little dull, perhaps, or just not enticing for visitors? Spare a thought or two for the residents of the Swedish town of Fjuckby. Yes, F-J-U-C-K-B-Y, and if it's not already bad enough, you know that "J" is pronounced more like a "Y," of course. When the world was small and nobody spoke (or swore) in English, this village was happy. Globalization has destroyed that.
Unlike the people of Fucking, Austria, who don't want to change the name of their town, Fjuckby residents are desperate. They wrote:
The word 'Fjuckby' today appears to spontaneously and repeatedly lead to associations concerning certain carnal activities between people and between animals...This regrettable fact breeds feelings of weariness, embarrassment and conditioned shame among the residents.
The government office responsible for handling the matter suggests their chances, however, are not so good: town names are rarely changed in Sweden. They did change the name of Krakanger in the 1950s: fair enough, too, as the name translates to mean "vomit regret." A real "morning after" town.
More dangers in darkening Sweden. Remember the drunken elks who were scaring innocent school children? Some of their mates have taken their fermented-apple-inebriation out on old people instead. In Sibbhult, a female elk and her calf (nothing like keeping it in the family) harassed a nursing home until police chased them out with a hunter and a dog.
But be extra careful in Sweden, because it's not only elks that are getting in to the hard stuff. This week a moose in the north did the same trick but with a sorrier end--his drunken confusion had him fall through the ice and drown. The lessons here? Don't eat apples from strangers in Sweden, and stay far, far away from any big animal with horns or a Rudolph-like appearance.
Here we go again. We've seen it before, what happens when man meets nature--you might remember the drama in Germany during the World Cup when Bruno the Bear terrorized tourists in southern Germany and the Austrian alps. Now the problems have drifted further north to Sweden, where a drunken elk is the new threat.
The as-yet nameless elk (we're open to suggestions) snacks on fermented apples and then goes crazy in Molndal, southern Sweden. Just like earlier this year with Bruno, authorities have given the order that allows hunters to kill him on sight. Cue the environmentalists, tourist boards, media, T-shirt printers and internet game developers who'll all have their bit to say. And how will the story end? Our friend Bruno ended up dead. The 1100-pound, erratically behaving elk's fate is your guess.
We're used to things like intimidation, Karl Rove and fear of gays (not that there's anything wrong with that) influencing presidential campaigns, but Conan O'Brien? Totally uncharted territory. A series of gags on "Late Night With Conan O'Brien" where Conan compares himself to the current President Tarja Halonen are the hot topic of conversation in Finland now (right up there with "Why is it so f'ing cold and dark?" and "Why won't people stop killing themselves? Oh...right."), and Halonen's opponents worry their campaigns are being harmed as a result. "If this decides the election, then we're in trouble," says one campaign manager. "It gives a very poor picture of Finnish democracy." Don't worry, guys--we're hardly in the judging position now, anyway.