Earthquake!!!! ...in Denmark?

This morning I woke up to find myself being shaken back and forth in bed.

Having never experienced an earthquake, my mind was seeking every possibility for this feeling.

A train has crashed...

The building is crumbling...

The wind is really strong...

I sat up and noticed that Michael had also been disturbed by the jolts.

"Is this an Earthquake???" I queried.

"I think so! I dont think this building can withstand one... it may collapse!" Michael beckoned as he got out of bed and gazed out of the window as if to see a city in turmoil.

It lasted for what seemed about 25 seconds. We then laughed about the scenario and went back to sleep. Michael told me to remind him about it in the morning because otherwise he will think it was a dream. Of all places to experience my first earthquake.... Copenhagen, Denmark was not a likely suspect!

The epicenter was in southern Sweden, about 40 miles away. It was a 4.7 on the Richter Scale.

I had earthquake dreams for the remainder of the morning.

Barcelona and Back

Last Monday I woke up at 4:30am to catch the bus to the train station in Copenhagen which would take me to the K. Lufthavn. I get there with plenty of time to spare and the airline served us croissants and orange juice while we waited.

In about 2 and a half hours I was landing in Barcelona. After a bit of studying other people I learned how to get a train ticket to the city center. With only one pack, I was able to roam around all day without having carry much luggage.

I didnt have a map, so I just picked a direction. I started on the SW side, where I stumbled upon a nice art museum, gardens, a chairlift, and an old castle.. or fort. I took lots of pictures from this point, as it offered a panaramic views of the city and he sea. This also gave me an idea of which direction I wanted to head next.

I wondered down the hill on the East side and then turned North on the Ramba, the touristy street. I continued North looking for the Sangrada Familia. I had always seen this cathedral in pictures and always wanted to see it in person. I couldnt find it... but I managed to stumble upon a series of escalators leading up a mountain. I took them, which led to a park full of gardens overlooking the city. I spent some time exploring the park and then headed back down toward the Familia. Even after taking visual note of its location, I was still ahving a hard time finding it. I kept stopping at the bus stops to look at the maps posted. That was how I found my way.

At last, the Sangrada Familia. Not much to do there, and it was of course full of tourists. I moved on, heading East to where Roger lives. I could have taken the metro, but I chose to finish the day walking instead. It was 6 hours of walking total when I found Roger's flat. He was glad to see me when I showed up. I met the children and we had dinner together consisting of chicken strips and a mashed goulash.

The 3 days I spent there were relaxed. It was nice to be in warmer weather, even is the air was chilly. The second day I spent walking around Sant Andreu, the township where Roger lives. There werent any tourists, and I got a nice grasp of local life. On Wednesday I was to meet Star, the friend I had met in Amsterdam a little over a week ago. I waited around for 45min. and decided she could find Roger's place on her own. Roger took me swimming in the local pool center. It felt good to get some total body excercise for a change.

Whne I returned from the pool, Star was at the flat. I had barely missed her at the metro stop. Roger took us out to the old part of the city and gave us a tour. We had some Argentine pizza and took lots of pictures. The next day, Star and I went to the beach and compared yoga moves. She went for a swim, I opted against it.... i bit too cold.

I said my goodbyes to everyone and headed back to the airport on Thursday evening. Time to get back to the cold, wet, windy North.

Going home was all that I could have expected for Copenhagen. It was just above freezing, windy, and slushing rain.

Friday I took it easy until Michael returned from work. We went to his father's Italian supermarket and then he headed to his company's Christmas Lunch. I went back to the dorm to make dinner and then I headed out to the city.

Kobenhavn aka Copenhagen

I've now been in Copenhagen for about 5 days. My knee seems to be healing, despite my daily bike treks throughout the city. I have been avoiding using the injured one while pedaling.

Copenhagen is expensive. Similar in prices to Paris... some things even more. The taxes are outrageous, and from what I hear from the Danes, many of the policies seem to only promote business in bordering countries. For example, Danish beer is cheaper in Germany than in Denmark!

The weather is predictable: wet, cold, and windy. The sun sets just after 4pm, severely limiting time for me to explore in light. Ive managed to find the famous mermaid, the main shopping streets, picturesque canal houses, and the famous Christiania sector. The bike traffic is very similar to that of Amsterdam, but the Danes seem to be better drivers than the Dutch.

To get a break from this gloomy weather, I have decided to go to Barcelona for 3 days next week. It's not really warm there, but atleast Ill see a bit of Mediterranean sunshine.

Spontaneous Journey

Tuesday, 2 December. 13.30 hrs

I have been sitting in Michael's dormitory in Copenhagen reflecting on the last few days as a blur. This is the first time I've had access to the rest of the world (internet) since Thursday. Michael, I met on top of the Nairobi conference center in Kenya, two years ago. From there, he joined Eric and I on one hellish overnight bus ride to Kampala and later on a safari in western Uganda. I find it surreal to be here in his hometown. Yesterday I wondered the streets of Copenhagen on my bicycle; observing the city which is new to me.

Sunday, 30 November. 15.00 hrs.

After slicing the onions, I decided to drop the sausages into the skillet. Looking around the kitchen, I find a bottle that looks and smells like vegetable oil. I hope it is, but I can't read Danish. I also have potatoes boiling on the back eye.

Cooking is not the best thing for me to be doing right now. The sight of sausage makes me want to chunder. Oh, and don't even mention Herring. If I ever taste another bit of Herring I will have an immediate gag reaction. I have to take breaks from watching the food to chunder outside in the lawn. Sitting by the fire is also a priority due to all of the doors being open. Random neighbors keep entering, speaking only in Danish.

At last, the food is finished. Soren and Julien are starving, so they immediatley dig in. I, on the other hand, still feel a bit nauseatious. I try a bit of the potatoes.. it's alright. And then a piece of sausage... not so good. I stick with the potatoes.

After eating, we finished loading the truck. This took several hours. Michael was waiting for me in Copenhagen, so we tried to rush.

We arrived at the train station around 11.30pm. Soren took the liberty of making sure I got on the right train. We said goodbye, and they headed towards Brussels, and I into Copenhagen. I had no Danish kroners, only Euros. The only choice was to risk getting caught without a ticket. I made it.

Sunday, 30 November. 14.00 hrs.

I find myself waking in a strange place. My head is pounding and I feel a bit sick. Looking around, I am reminded of the small house in Northern Zealand that I arrived at 7 hours earlier. Soren and Julien are already awake and had been stepping over me, preparing to move things out of the house into the truck. Julien chuckles as he sees me getting up.

What happened? I have a terrible hangover...

As my brain begins to recover more data I remember the short celebration we had at our arrival in Gilleje at 6am this morning. Danish customs were forced upon me... I didn't mind, I hadn't eaten anything all day, except for that bag of chips I bought at a petrol station in Hannover. We had three kinds of Herring and a terrible liquor that tasted medicinal. I tried to take it easy on the medicinal liquid and go for the Danish brew, which was delicious. Soren kept pouring me liberal amounts of the liquor.... I drank.

After our celebration, Julien went to sleep and Soren asked if I wanted to walk to the beach. I accepted due to the addrenaline of being in such a strange, new place. This was his childhood mecca, a place he grew up with and found so familiar. He showed me the paths he use to ride his bicycle around, and the site of the old house, which now has no reminants. We found the beach, nearly 1 km later through the meandering paths. The beach was picturesque. Soren walked through the gentle waves as I took pictures. The nostalgia engulfed him.

On the way back, he took me to a pond with a bench, where we discussed politics, culture, and life. Upon our return, we both crashed.

Saturday, 29 November. 20.00 hours.

We've been driving for hours in this large moving truck. Problems seem to never cease. Germany is not so easy to navigate, even with a map. Julien only has a large scale Europa map... good for us, I have a map of northern Germany. Not wanting to make a mistake, Julien often pulled off the highway to ask people if we are going in the right direction.

In Western Germany there is a conglomerate of industrial cities (Dusseldorf, Essen, Dortmund, Koln, Duisburg) Foreigners should avoid this area if driving or traveling through Germany. Julien and I, of course, found ourselves in this cluster for hours.

Somewhere before Hannover, I am about to dose off, when I here a clunk. I dismiss it and fall asleep. 20 minutes pass and Julien is pulling over at a rest stop. It seems out driver side windshield wiper has snapped. We find some tools, and move the passenger side wiper over.

When we finally make it to the ferry which crosses into Denmark, I can't stay awake. We park the truck and move up to a lounge where I immediatley pass out for what seems like 2 minutes. Julien wakes me and we head back down to the truck. The ferry takes about 45 min!

I dose off again in the truck. My head is bobbing and my mouth, for sure, is open.

I wake up to find that Julien has picked a terrible spot to get fuel. We're on empty, and it looks like this place.... Bogo, has nothing! Julien decides to pull over at a residential house to ask... noone is home. We move on and find someone walking. He points us to the right directions. It turns out we are on a small island just before Zealand. No wonder there is nothing here.

Saturday, 29 November. 04.30hrs.

Marc looks at his watch to find that the party will be over soon.

What???? It feels like we just arrived!

Despite the near end, the mood is still going strong. We are on an old cargo ship in Amsterdam, which has been converted into a 4 room rave party. Nitai, Marc, and I arrived after midnight with our new friend Star Simpson. The remainder of the party flies by, and find ourselves parting with Nitai, who decided to take an early train to Brussels en route to Brugge. We say our goodbyes to him before heading back to Casa Robino on our bicycles. We quitely climb the 4 flights of stairs, unfold out sleeping bags and pass out.

My alarm wakes me 4 hours later.

Yikes! I have a train to catch!

I am to meet Julien at 4pm in Venlo, a small town on the German border. I rush downstairs, grab my bike and race to the train station. I made it... barely.

Arriving at Venlo, I am carrying my bike up a flight of stairs when I see a tall, slender fellow with long hair smiling at me. I am not sure what Julien looks like.... but I think it's him.

"Julien?"

He nods with approval and notes that it was easy to spot me with my luggage and a bicycle. We load my things into the back of a moving truck and I climb into the front. And we're off! Roadtrip Germany!

During the ride he explains that he is meeting his friend, Soren, with this moving truck in Northern Zealand. Soren's mother has died recently, leaving him with a house which needs to be cleared out.

We discuss travel, politics, economics, the EU, ect. for the first hour or so. I start to get sleepy after a couple of hours... after all I've just been at an all night rave party in Amsterdam. Must have sleep... Julien offers me a pillow just before stopping for coffee.