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.