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In Which I Make A Complete Fool Of Myself (Yes, Again)
December 11, 2006 by Mike
Ringkøbing, 10 & 11 December
Route (on Sunday): Hanstholm - Thyborøn - Torsminde - Søndervig - Videbæk - Astrup - Ringkøbing
Ooops.
I made it to Astrup at last - my Astrup. Our Astrup. After all those other Astrups. The village of Astrup from which Niels Nielsen Astrup, my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, emigrated in the 18th century. The Astrup which his (and my) ancestor Troels Winter moved to in approximately 1470 to marry Mette Pedersdatter, the daughter and heir of the owner of Astrupgaard, the Astrup farm.
Turned up on Sunday in bright sunshine. Wandered round - felt a bit spooky, though to be honest it's an ugly, brown brick, modern village. In the community hall a large family group were celebrating some birthdays. I introduced myself as their long-lost cousin. They laughed. They gave me birthday cake and phoned the local historian, Otto, who drove over to meet me. Otto was thrilled, and in turn called his colleague Alfred in the next town. We arranged a meeting for 9.30am the very next morning.
So I had to get up early on Monday morning for the first time in months. Rode over to Astrup again - 25 miles in sheets of rain and very high winds. It took 30 minutes yesterday and an hour this morning. I got there just in time. Otto, a spry man in his 70s with a sharp moustache, had arrived early to lay out parish records dating back to 1700. Alfred brought copies of 100-year-old books of family research. All for my benefit.
Like I said, Ooops.
I got it wrong. This is the wrong Astrup.
*Runs and hides*
--
I have a decision to make. I'm in western Denmark and it's Christmas in a fortnight. If I was already in Spain or Portugal, and it was hot, my decision would be pretty easy. But I'm not. I could sail from Esbjerg (about 100 miles south of here) back to Harwich and ride up to my folks' in Norwich. I could be there in very few days. Or I could continue round to Holland, say, or Calais, cross the Channel and ride up to Norwich from there. Make more of the days, and the unseasonable weather, from the trip's point of view.
What I do know is that, wherever I break off from the trip to head back for all that Yule Log, house red and Brussels sprouts, I'll be heading back to the same port to resume the trip after New Year.
Only that way will the circle will be unbroken...
--
I *can't* just run away and hide, can I?
I was as sure as sure can be that this was my Astrup. Cousins had confirmed it for me - the Astrup in West Jylland. Not the one near Esbjerg, the other one. I'd checked references to the old province of Hviding Herred and cross-referred old and new maps. Maps! I'd circled this Astrup on my map AND underlined it. Only, I had circled and underlined the wrong Astrup.
There's an Astrup further south. Also in Hviding Herred, it seems. It's too small to appear on my roadmap, but I've checked online and sure enough there it is.
This morning, the last thing I did before riding over to Astrup was check more details about my old ancestor Troels. Here's the entry I found.
But I'm miles north of Ribe. That's way down.. near the.. the.. the.. other Astrup. Ooops.
And with that I had to get going or I'd be late for my Monday morning meeting. And here's the thing. I didn't have the heart to tell Otto and Alfred, two dear and kindly old men who went out of their way to be helpful to me. I thought it would make their efforts meaningless even though I'd been certain I was in the right place until this morning. What a plonker. I promise to write and tell them when I get to the real Astrup... another instalment that you'll have to sit through on my quest to connect with my ancestors.
One thing I did find this morning which made me smile. Troels Winter was the earliest name on our family tree when it was put together in the 1950s. Since then, much research and much of it online. Someone has traced Troels' ancestors back to one Henrik Busche, born c.1100 (maybe I'm related to Dubya? The shame...)
But Henrik's great-great-great-great-grandson, who is also Troels' great-great-grandfather, was a gentleman by the name of Segebod Krummedigge.
To repeat, I have an ancestor called Segebod Krummedigge.
The fact that, statistically speaking, most people in Europe (and probably much further afield than that) are also descended from Segebod Krummedigge doesn't matter. (Lots of the people reading this are related to me.. so you now know for sure you're descended from Segebod Krummedigge!) We reach him through his daughter Mette, who married the Mayor of Flensburg in 1379 (now I want to go back to the City Archives in Flensburg) which is lucky, or I might have been called Mike Krummedigge -- or, let's face it, Mike Crummydick. Which I probably deserve after innocently hoodwinking Otto and Alfred.
Comments
By JOY | February 12, 2007 5:19 AM
I HAVE FOUND A CALLING CARD?? WITH A PHOTO OF A MAN NAMED NIELS ASTRUP. IT IS IN GERMAN?? SO I CAN'T READ IT. WHO WAS HE???
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By Laura | December 13, 2006 10:08 PM
oops. : )