Another early horse memory was the occassional treasured trips to "Bakken", which is an amusement park located near Klampenborg, about 8 or 10 miles north of where we lived in København (Copenhagen). Bakken was located in a corner of the Royal Forest "Dyrehaven" (The Deer Park); which was a HUGE area, open to all, but which did not allow any motorized vehicles. Most of it was woods, but there were several open areas, a couple of smallish lakes, and even a golf course and a castle of sorts, called "Eremitagen". And lots of deer and smaller wildlife. You could walk or ride your bicycles around, or hire a horse and carriage. Or ride horses, if you were lucky enough to know any or knew where to rent one. At Bakken, where my parents often took my brother and myself when we were little, there was a pony ride, and I would always pick the biggest pony to ride, an Icelandic named Basse. I used to have a picture of my brother and myself riding the ponies, me, at three or four, on Basse and my 2 year older brother on Buster, another somewhat smaller Icelandic. Dunno what happened to the pic :-( I haven't seen it in YEARS!
One would get to Bakken and Dyrehaven from my home either on bicycles or on the S-Train to Klampenborg and then walk. When we were little, we would ride on child-seats either in front or in back of my parents' bicycles, but my 2 year older brother Bjørn and I both got our own full size bikes for our 6th birthday, and we soon learned to ride them! No training wheels for us! We had blocks on the pedals to begin with, so we could reach, and my dad put a broomstick behind the seat when we were learning, so he could grab the broomstick to balance us. Most folks, including my family, didn't have cars, so our transportation would be the bicycles, the trams that were plentiful all over København, or the S-train, which covered a wider area but wasn't as handy as the trams. On rare occassions we'd use a taxi, but they were expensive, so we tried to avoid them.
Note: Clicking on the title of this blog entry will take you to a site with several pics from Dyrehaven.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Horse Meat. (Timeline: Late 1950s)
This is largely my comments from a discussion on a list I belong to. We started out discussing what happened to the cavalry horses after the two world wars, and drifted into the eating of horse meat.
In Denmark, when I grew up, it was not unheard of to eat horse meat. We would mostly eat beef, pork, or fish (most often cod), but all kinds of meat was available. I have loved horses since I was a toddler, and my mother respected that I did NOT want to eat horse meat, but I know she and my brother did. Not often, but occassionally. My brother used to tease me about it, too! I have tried whale, shark (both fishy tasting; ugh!), octopus, eel, elephant, duck, goose, and I can't think of what else. My mother wanted us to have different experiences, and did her best for us within her very limited budget.
I don't think there is anything intrinsically wrong with eating horse meat. I CHOOSE to not eat my friends, or anyone related to my equine friends; however remote. I also choose to not knowingly eat meat from any other animal that I have known personally. A few of my friends have raised cows or pigs for slaughter, but I have always stayed away from eating those. Heck; I even have a hard time eating the eggs from the chickens that seem to hang around my barn from time to time. In my defense, I was city bred and raised.
Even though I, as a rule, don't think the less of people who eat horse meat, or even dog or cat meat for that matter, I remember one incident from when I was a teenager that really rubbed me the wrong way. Hanging around with the ponies at Fortunen, we also had contact with several thoroughbred trainers that had stables nearby, and of course we knew the horses too. One of Brandy's fellow racers, who was stabled a block from the pony stable, had gotten injured while racing. I can't recall his name, but I can still picture him in my mind. He was chunky as racehorses go; looked almost quarterhorsey. A dark bay with a small star and one white fetlock. Well, it was decided that he couldn't recover enough to make it back to the race track, and he hadn't done well enough on the track to be valuable at stud, so they had him slaughtered, and they ATE him! I didn't much mind the slaughter, but I didn't like the idea of them eating an animal THEY had cared for for several years, ever since he was a long yearling. To my way of thinking that was crossing the line. Especially talking and joking about it. They should at least have kept it to themselves!
In Denmark, when I grew up, it was not unheard of to eat horse meat. We would mostly eat beef, pork, or fish (most often cod), but all kinds of meat was available. I have loved horses since I was a toddler, and my mother respected that I did NOT want to eat horse meat, but I know she and my brother did. Not often, but occassionally. My brother used to tease me about it, too! I have tried whale, shark (both fishy tasting; ugh!), octopus, eel, elephant, duck, goose, and I can't think of what else. My mother wanted us to have different experiences, and did her best for us within her very limited budget.
I don't think there is anything intrinsically wrong with eating horse meat. I CHOOSE to not eat my friends, or anyone related to my equine friends; however remote. I also choose to not knowingly eat meat from any other animal that I have known personally. A few of my friends have raised cows or pigs for slaughter, but I have always stayed away from eating those. Heck; I even have a hard time eating the eggs from the chickens that seem to hang around my barn from time to time. In my defense, I was city bred and raised.
Even though I, as a rule, don't think the less of people who eat horse meat, or even dog or cat meat for that matter, I remember one incident from when I was a teenager that really rubbed me the wrong way. Hanging around with the ponies at Fortunen, we also had contact with several thoroughbred trainers that had stables nearby, and of course we knew the horses too. One of Brandy's fellow racers, who was stabled a block from the pony stable, had gotten injured while racing. I can't recall his name, but I can still picture him in my mind. He was chunky as racehorses go; looked almost quarterhorsey. A dark bay with a small star and one white fetlock. Well, it was decided that he couldn't recover enough to make it back to the race track, and he hadn't done well enough on the track to be valuable at stud, so they had him slaughtered, and they ATE him! I didn't much mind the slaughter, but I didn't like the idea of them eating an animal THEY had cared for for several years, ever since he was a long yearling. To my way of thinking that was crossing the line. Especially talking and joking about it. They should at least have kept it to themselves!
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