Also, I'm writing this while catching up on Jersey Shore episodes because I experienced a strange nostalgia for guidos while in Denmark. But it was a distant fondness, the kind where you can't smell the Axe. So like an Atlantic Ocean's worth of distance, basically. I just thought you should be aware.
So today is Official Run Down and All That Jazz day, where I put up pictures, write a mini novel, and say "bitch" a lot. Two weeks is a long time, so forgive me if I don't cover every minute of every day, as I am prone to doing. This is all about efficiency. Summary, pictures, anecdotes. Boom. Bitch.
Like I said in the video, it was a long, long trip. When we finally arrived at the ferry, we had to chill out in front of the boat for forever while the unloaded all the cars:
Then we packed in like sardines. Actually like sardines, because we were in a metal box, it was hard to move, and it smelled like fish.
Upon arrival, we discovered our house was called Vossavang, which made me happy for no apparent reason:
And it was lovely and chicken-y, once you got past the whole mold/mice thing:
And there was a super awesome bathtub, which I took a picture of, but did not get to try out. I know. Don't judge me.
Our first day there, we immediately attempted to find the beach. Our house was advertised as being 600 meters from the beach, which it was not. We got retardedly lost in the woods, and wound up scrabbling down giant sand dunes and almost dying. We discovered later our house was only 600 meters from the beach, but only if you ignored the mile-long drive to the beach parking lot.
But we found the beach, and the Baltic Sea is lovely!
As is the Snog-A-Bitch Snogabæck harbor:
The next day we ate lunch on some rocks, and I practiced my mountain-goat skills by scampering around on them:
Also, I found Danish cows:
I don't know what this is, but I took a picture of it:
Look, a bird.
There was lots of climbing on rocks, and almost falling into the sea while doing it:
And glasswork shops with explicitly naked glass-people in the windows:
We spent a lovely afternoon in Gudhjem, where there isn't much to do except look at things.
Look, another bird.
We went to a restaurant, where I made friends with the cat:
Then we did a day trip to the north end of the island, where we hiked to a castle called Hammershus! The hike was beautiful:
And I climbed this nonsense entirely in flip flops because no one told me we were hiking that day. My host parents were blown away that I survived. I pretended like I managed it just because I'm awesome, and not because I've had too much practice climbing shit in inadequate footwear with Claire.
DISTANT CASTLES!
ARE NOT AS COOL AS CLOSE-UP ONES!
The castle ruins were SO badass.
Then we went to Rønne, the capital of Bornholm, where I found only two things noteworthy enough to warrant a photograph. 1). The Justin Bieber biography. In Danish.
2). Slutspurt. A most adequate description for pretty much all the people I'm friends with.
Other than that, I really didn't take many pictures. Bornholm was lovely, but we quickly ran out of things to do and just went to the beach every day. Which was fine, except I saw so much old naked Danish genitalia, I don't think my eyes will ever heal. One guy was cavorting around completely naked in front of his small children, flying kites, and Host Mom didn't understand why I was horrified and wanted to call social services. Then she said, "I don't see what's the problem with being naked in front of your own kids. When I was in school, our teachers even got naked in front of us." And that actually blew the lid off the discussion, it was about ten minutes before I could say anything besides "What. The. FUCK." It was awful. I tried to explain how you would lose your job in half a second for that, AND be banned from everything for life, AND be arrested, AND be tarred and feathered, AND be fed to spider monkeys with AIDS. And she did not understand. And I did not understand why she didn't understand. And I spent the rest of the day with my head buried in my towel, trying to avoid looking at Naked Cavorting Man, who was nakedly cavorting too close to us for comfort. And THAT is when I started missing guidos. They smell like hairspray, but at least they have pants on. As a general rule.
Other things of note: supposedly the soft ice cream on Bornholm is the best in the world. But I tried it, and I can think of about twelve places off the top of my head that are better, starting with Rita's and the Rutgers dining halls. Just throwing it out there Denmark, don't feel too triumphant.
All in all, Denmark, though it was at times cold and wet, was a good time. Lots of hiking and beaching, but I'm glad to be back. A friend family just got a Latvian au pair, so she and I have already started making plans to go out this week and do fun things. The country is open again, so tomorrow morning it's off to the riding club and the music school for me. Also, I just signed up for two seminars in November that looked interesting. One is called Typish Deutsch? and it's all about critically looking at German culture. Technically it's meant for Germans, but whatever. The other one is called Politischer Extremismus (political extremes), which I signed up for assuming the US is going to get mentioned two, three, or a thousand times. Also, later this week I am off to Hamburg to (cross my fingers) pick up my Portuguese ID card. My visa expires next week, so all needs to go well or else I'll be like a hobo squatting in Bronx apartment with three walls, except my Bronx apartment is called Germany. Once the saga is over, I will finally write the Epic Visa Problems post, which is sure to be about as awesome as a Cracker Jacks box of unicorns.
Adios friends!
EDIT: Oh! I forgot to give you the favorite song of the day!
Listen. Before you judge me, just listen. It's James Blunt and I DON'T EVEN LIKE IT, but it's been on the radio and I can't get it out of my head. I hope it hasn't been on American radio, because it blows and it's James fucking Blunt. And anyone who says Cal-ee-forn-ay-aeeee does not deserve to be on any radio, let alone American radio. I hate myself for listening to it, but now you can have it! Hate yourselves!
1 comment:
Tina, I think you need to relax. If people were meant to be nude, they would have been born this way. ;-)
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