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After the frenzied unwrapping and shovelling that occurs at our family Christmas, a quiet generally descends the house as the children plummet down the far side of their sugar highs and into their new books ……..giving Mum & Dad a blessed chance to sleep off their festive hangovers.
10-year-old son will be receiving some more titles from the Ranger’s Apprentice series (perhaps even signed, I know someone who knows someone…). The first book in the series was inhaled over a matter of days. Fast paced and action packed; they are just the stories to entice young boys away from television and gaming consoles. 
Random have just released a rejacketed Roald Dahl collection, and any of those books will also be gratefully gobbled up!
4-year-old son will receive any number of titles from the Elmer and Little Princess series. Classic picture books, written with humour and beautifully illustrated, they are just the ticket to keep the smallest amongst us out of trouble. The Little Drummer Boy by Bruce Whatley will also be gifted; a fantastic home-grown story and with stunning illustrations, it is the kind of tale that will be treasured for years to come.
Personally, while aforementioned children are occupied, I plan to be reclining under a giant sun hat reading The Children’s Book by A.S Byatt. Sigh. Merry Christmas!!
We spent five days in Denmark and I did the usual round of bookstores, signings and talks in libraries. Once again, I was fascinated to see my books being enjoyed by people who speak another language entirely. I don’t know why this should surprise me, but it does. It’s the most wonderful feeling. I kept thinking, “I sit at home in Manly and write these books, and here are kids thousands of miles away, reading them in a completely different language.” It’s so weird to pick up a copy of your own book and realise that the only words you recognise are “John Flanagan”. Even the titles are different. Not Ranger’s Apprentice, but Skyggens Learling.
Once again, I had audiences in fits of laughter over my pronunciation. I mean, let’s be honest, you would pronounce that “Sky-gens Lurling”, wouldn’t you? Well I did. Until I found out it’s Skoogens.
I got the Lurling sort of right, anyway.
The final day was special for me. I had a day off and Lise organised a tour of the Viking Ship Museum at Roskilde, a town outside of Copenhagen. They have the remnants of old boats that were sunk hundreds of years ago ( to block the harbour when the Norwegians tried to invade). They’ve raised them and reconstructed their outlines in iron frames. About 30-40% of the original structures remains.
Since I’m working on a new series, about a half Skandanavian, half Araluen boy who designs a new kind of ship, I was fascinated. Lise arranged for one of the curators there, Anton Englert, to show us around. In addition to the museum, they have a boatyard where they build ships in the old style, with old tools. It was fascinating. And I got some great details and great ideas for events in the new series.
Thanks Lise and thanks Anton. It was a great finish to a great tour.
Anton shows John over one of the boats built in the old style.
Two of the events organised by my Dutch publishers, Gottmer, really stand out in my memory. They were both at mediaeval castles.
The first was an afternoon event at Keukenhof Castle (or Kasteel, as they say). Several hundred Ranger fans turned up to see the mediaeval weapons demonstrations and to have me sign their books. The castle grounds and gardens were quite beautiful. It’s often used as a venue for weddings and other functions. Not that I saw too much of them. I was sequestered in a tower room to meet readers and sign books.
The series is called Die Grizje Jager in Holland. It means “The Grey Hunter”. My pronunciation of the title always brought forth giggles and laughter. I kept saying “De Greeze Jagger”. It wasn’t until the end of the week I discovered it was pronounced “Grayze Jagger”. The way I was saying it probably meant The fat hunter, who knows?
The second castle event was a mediaeval dinner in a 14th century castle (complete with moat) called Hoensbroek . Again, I spent some time signing books. And a very fruitful session with Dimitri, who was there giving archery lessons. He showed me where my technique had slipped a little and I immediately managed to shoot two bulls. I then quit while I was ahead. Dinner was in the servants’ quarters in the kitchen. The local bookseller had run a competition for kids. First prize was dinner with me in the castle. My wife unkindly suggested that second prize was two dinners with me in the castle.
I chose to ignore her.
Dimitri gives John a few tips. John wants to know where to get a hat like that.
If Holland was delightfully friendly and welcoming, Denmark was simply more of the same. It’s a lovely country to visit. The people are very welcoming and, as in Holland, just about everybody speaks English.
My local publisher and editor, a delightful lady named Lise Heileson, met us at the airport and drove us to our hotel. We’d just spent two nights in Paris and the bathroom in our Copenhagen hotel was larger than the entire bedroom in our Paris hotel. (Not quite, but close to it). Lise gave us an hour to settle in and then took us sightseeing around Copenhagen. (I was starting work the next day – signing and giving talks – so it was really my only chance to get a good look at the city. There’s not a lot of sightseeing on an author tour.)
We had lunch in an open air restaurant along the bank of a canal (like Amsterdam, Copenhagen seems to be built around canals). There was an entire row of restaurants with tables and chairs out in the sun. The Northern Europeans love eating al fresco, but what made us laugh was the fact that every chair had a folded red blanket draped on it. The Danes would sit in the sun, wrapped in a blanket. (It gets cold in Denmark). Seemed a little odd to us.
Lise took us all over the city – along cobbled streets, up the Round Tower ( I think it’s called the Rundtorn) that was built by a Swedish king. From there we could see the harbour where the British Navy blockaded and bombarded the city during the Napoleonic Wars. It was a bit heavy-handed of them, I thought. But the Danes seem to have forgiven them. That was the battle where Admiral Nelson did his famous trick of putting his telescope to his blind eye and saying he couldn’t see the recall signal. Frankly, I don’t think he realised what he was doing. I find telescopes are notoriously hard to focus and after all, he only had one hand. I think he just looked into it and said “Can’t see a thing.” Most people do that with telescopes.
We walked into the square where Princess Mary and Prince Frederick have their palace. You can just stroll around. There’s no gate or fence, unlike Buckingham Palace. The Queen of Denmark has a palace opposite Mary’s and Fred’s. There are a couple of guys in bearskin hats slow marching round the square. (Reminded me of the Little Tin Soldier in Hans Christian Andersen’s story. He was from Copenhagen, you know. I didn’t say that to them, however. They did have guns, after all.)
We noticed how respectful the Danes are about the Royal family. In our typical Aussie way, we’d ask “Is this where Mary lives?” and Lise would reply “Yes, the Royal Princess Mary lives here.”
Oops. That’s who we meant, of course.
Happy to report that Mary ( that’s the Royal Princess Mary to you) is hugely popular with the Danes. And her mum-in-law. (That’s her Royal Majesty mum in law, I guess).
And why wouldn’t she be?
Leonie and me and the Little Tin Soldier, outside RPM’s house.
Holland was delightful. We stayed in a hotel built alongside one of the major canals. It was a strange building. Actually, it was five houses that had been combined to make one hotel. It was very comfortable but there were certain vagaries.
For instance, we were on the first floor, so we’d take the elevator up (only a suicidal maniac would go up the narrow, winding staircase). We’d step out of the lift, turn right, travel five paces, go down three steps. Travel three paces, go up two steps, then go another five paces to our room, which overlooked a canal. The room was very comfortable and the hotel staff were extremely efficient and friendly – perhaps they were trying to make amends for those stairs and the up-steps, down-steps corridor.
The breakfast room was also on the first floor but we couldn’t reach it directly. We’d leave our room, go along, down, along, up, left and into
the elevator. (Only a completely suicidal maniac would risk going DOWN those windy narrow stairs.) Then we’d go through the reception area, say hello to the desk staff ( very friendly they were too) and go up a narrow windy staircase (no elevator, so no choice) to the breakfast room. View of the canal, lovely crisp fresh rolls and ham and cheese.Although on some days we had cheese and ham to provide variety in our diet. Then we’d go out, down, through, up, right, along, down, along, up, along and find ourselves back at our room.
Simple really, once you got the hang of it.
A hotel for very short people?
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