Swedish Twin Peaks

Back when I was a graduate student, I went off to my first science conference in Landskrona, a Swedish town that was celebrating an anniversary of Tycho Brahe and his pioneering astronomical work on the island of Hven.

The town was very proud of hosting an international conference, and we were treated like royalty with the finishing conference meal being held in the local castle. I sat next to the mayor of the town who proceeded to get incredibly drunk and then go on to give a speech at the head table.

One of the more memorable events was the introductory talk, held in the centuries old theatre in the middle of the town. There we all were, bodies firmly wedged into tiny wooden seats, when the lights went down and the stage was lit up with a spotlight. From behind deep red velvet curtains there emerged the tallest, thinnest, baldest man I have ever set eyes upon. His domed head led down to overhanging brows that contained piercing eyes, and in a strongly Scandinavian accented english, he introduced himself as one of the organisers.

For many minutes he introduced us to the town and the history of it's most famous astronomer, all of this delivered in a deep, mournful monotone. Drawing to an end, he finished with: "But of course, we have a deep and immense respect for our greatest astronomer, Tycho Brahe - bring on the dancing girls!"

With a flourish, the curtains swept aside and the music started up as three men in garish drag stomped out onto the stage and sang in burly voices, "We're friends of Tycho Bra-he, we sing and dance and laugh, hey!" Two hundred astronomers sat and stared with their mouths open as a whole cheerful routine of cross-dressing men sang cheerfully camp songs about Tycho's love life.

I couldn't make this up if I tried. Honestly.