I'm Hans Christian Andersen.....

......I've many a tale to tell

And though I'm a cobbler,

I'd say I tell them rather well

I'll mend your shoes and I'll fix your boots

When I have a moment free

When I'm not other wise occupied

As a purple duck or a mountainside

Or a quarter after three

I'm Hans Christian Andersen, Andersen, that's me

I'm Hans Christian Andersen

I bring you a fable rare

There once was a table who said Oh how I'd love a chair

And then and there came a sweet young chair

All dressed in a bridal gown

He said to her in a voice so true

Now I did not say I would marry you

But I would like to sit down

I'm Hans Christian Andersen, Andersen's in town

I write myself a note each day

And I place it in my hat

The wind comes by and the hat blows high

But that's not the end of that

For round and round the world it goes

It lands here right behind myself

I pick it up and I read the note

Which is merely to remind myself

I'm Hans Christian Andersen, Andersen, that's me

I'm Hans Christian Andersen

My pen's like a babbling brook

Permit me to show you, dear sir My very latest book

Now here's a tale of a simple fool

Just glance at a page or two

You'll laugh ha, ha but you'll blush a bit

For you realize as you're reading it

That it's also reading you

I'm Hans Christian Andersen, Andersen, that's who

I'm Hans Christian Andersen

And this is an April day

It's full of the magic I need To speed me on my way

My pocketbook has an empty look A

nd I limp on a lumpy shoe

Or if I wish I'm a flying fish

Or a millionaire with a rocking chair

And a dumpling in my stew

I'm Hans Christian Andersen, Andersen, that's who !

****

Maybe I'm slightly obsessed. But I've dealt with it and I've decided I'm ok with that. Hans Christian Andersen deserved his very own post, so here are my adventures in Copenhagen trying to follow in his footsteps:

Here is Hans in The Kings Gardens.

And Look! There's me!

Here he is hanging out in the City Hall Sqaure. I think he's waiting for me.

This is Hans inside HC Andersen Eventhaus.
At this point I was convinced he was following me...

And here's his bust inside City Hall.

I also stumbled across a couple of places where he used to live, along the Nyhavn, where all the drunk sailors and prostitutes hung out. An author of fairy tales living in a 'den of eniquity'!

And finally, I visited his resting place:

I'm have Peter Pan syndrome, and I hope I never grow up. I'm glad I find it interesting to go to a place, simply because a guy who wrote fairy tales lived there hundreds of years ago. It was an amazing adventure, and I hope I have many more like it.