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It was something in the nature of a treasure hunt, and, as long as you were prepared to enter into the spirit of the thing, were physically fit and able, with a bravery bordering on foolhardiness and could read a map in an interpretive rather than literal manner, you were away.
You are adjured to go direct to the Landesmuseum, where you will acquire Map Mark 2, a catalogue and a bicycle. One I could understand but the other required more prolonged study than I was able to give. At the Landesmusuem we acquired bicycles, a map and catalogue which actually had reproductions of the sculptures, so that you knew what you were looking for, which was just as well since some of them were disguised as bus stops or advertising hoardings, or hidden down wells or in the top of a tree.
The biggest disappointment was provided by the Mystery of the Disappearing Hamilton Finlay. Finally, after prolonged search in a cemetery, we found two nails high up in a tree from which the Finlay plaque had been stolen. The Per Kirkeby was hard to identify, since it resembled a brick air-conditioning plant and was unwittingly providing the centrepiece for a dressage contest. You entered a dark underground passage lit only by nightlights. As your eyes became accustomed to the gloom you became aware of sharp little hammers hitting the walls at unspecified intervals.
I felt that I had stumbled into the caves of the Niebelungen. Emerging into the daylight one found an open space with a dark circular pool of water serenely reflecting the trees above. It was total theatre. It was with a sense of triumphant achievement that we returned the bicycles and walked wearily to the station.
