Oslo and an end in sight

Not much time for blogging. My time in Stockholm ended nicely, meeting a few very cool Vikings, hanging around the archipelago, a reggae bar, and some nice museums. I boarded the train to Oslo early Thursday morning and since have been staying at a small flat in the center of Oslo. This city is like the peak of Nordic utopia, and has an almost scary image of perfection. Just walking the city is a treat, and it looks like we'll head west to fjord country by the weekend's end.

Not sure if I'll have another chance to write anything. If not, I'll be back in Copenhagen on Tuesday for one last night, then two nights in Iceland, and back in the States on Friday afternoon. Unbelievable.

Sailing into Stockholm

The Finnish experience ended somewhere on the Baltic sea early Friday morning, when our the Silia boat crossed some imaginary line on a map. I had a great time in Finland, but the highlight came on a visit to the west coast to see Matias, a Viking arriving this coming year. His family owns a large tract of land on the archipelago, as well as a small island there. It took nearly 2.5 hrs by bus, but once there it was all fun and relaxation. We took a pack of ATVs out on the "farm", which was some of the coolest terrain I'll ever ATV on. All rocks and thick forest, broken occasionally by some narrow prarie fields. It was a bit intense at times, when I thought my ATV might flip over on my head due to some of the angles we were driving at. But it was a great time. Later we piled on to an old wooden boat and sailed through the archipelago. After an hour on the sea, we docked at a small island, which had five cottages usually rented out by Matias' family. We took the free one, and spent the evening with a barbecue, beer, sauna, and the occasional dip in the sea to cool off.

Wednesday night, my last in Finland, we had a night out (surprise) that got a bit out of hand. There was only one bar visited, that being an Aussie Pub, but once the Snakebites were lined up on the bar, it wasn't long before trouble arrived. We slept in Thursday before one last big brunch and a good clean of Sten's empty flat, which had been home for the week. Then we boarded the ferry to Stockholm.

The ferry was interesting. There was an all-you-can-eat-and-drink buffett, which we spent the mandatory two hours at. The duty-free store was packed with Swedes and Finns looking for their tax-free alcohol. And the boat, considering how big it is, swayed in the open sea with every big wave. It was pretty stormy and a bit intense at times, and the location of our cabin didn't help. We were on the lowest level, below the car decks, and at the very front of the ship. So we felt every movement of the boat, and it moved quite a bit in the wee hours of the morning.

I woke up in time for one last sauna, from which I could see the islands of Stockholm's archipelago passing by. We arrived in Stockholm in mid-morning, and met Lisa, a Swedish Viking, who found us a hostel for the night and gave us some orientation. In two days here, I've had a chance to walk around this gorgeous city, visit the famous Vasa museum, and try the notorious northern Swedish Surströmming. I'm looking forward to a few more days here, before we board an early morning train due west for Oslo on Thursday.

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I saw a photo of Favre in a Jets jersey. I leave the country for 10 lousy weeks and look what happens.

Drinking Wodka...Naked

That's pretty much what the Finns are known for, and I've had the experience in time here, so to speak. My days in Copenhagen ended in fantastic fashion, with a visit to the infamous amusement park Tivoli, frenzied packing (the only way I know how) and closing down the K3 club in the city center. Subsequently, Pete and I missed our first flight to Helsinki. Not to worry, there was another leaving in the afternoon, which we boarded with no problems.

My worries were over when we landed in Helsinki. But my luggage didn't come with me. Mikaela, a stunning Finnish Viking, picked us up at the airport and whisked us away to Sten's empty flat in the center of the city, where we've been sleeping on mattresses this week. Feels a bit like the Godfather. That first night we attended a bar's grand opening, then VIPed our way into this club called Lux, which has a great terrace view over the city, and is easily the most impressive club I've ever seen. Most clubs here are 24+, but it seems to be a mere suggestion.

Since then it's been sleep-in, sightsee, go to the club. Until yesterday, when Otto, the Viking headed to Madison this fall, gave us a tennis lesson and showed us the student like in Helsinki. Last night we had a big Viking dinner at his parent's place on an island outside Helsinki. Every time I meet these people I'm more and more impressed. Today we're taking a bus to the Finnish archipelago for a night at a cottage. Apart from these irritating back spasms, all is well here. My luggage even arrived yesterday, so I can stop borrowing clothes.

I fear this week in Finland will be over soon, and we'll board the overnight ferry to Stockholm on Thursday. I've never taken an overnight boat, and I'm pretty damn excited about it.

I've forgotten a few things. Saturday we visited Helsinki's last remaining public sauna, where for only 7 euros one can sweat out all those club toxins in a 100 degree + (that's celcius) wood paneled room with a bunch of other naked people. An interesting experience to say the least, but it's an institution in Finland, and a must on a visit here.

There was a club we went to on Sunday that had a line around the block, but we were able to skip the line and get in immediately. It's nice to know people who know people. A famous Finnish rapper performed live, and as usual, we failed to leave the place long before close.

Sorry about the brief summary, but I'm not wired in at the empty flat, and spare time is hard to come by. See you in Sweden..

Rounding third and bringing it on home

So it's Tuesday and the weather has taken a serious turn for the worse, making Copenhagen feel like the coastal city it acts like nine months of the year. The skies dark and the wind is blowing in every possible direction, with occasional rain and chilly temperature. It's good timing for me, as I'm in the midst of writing a business plan that comes due Thursday at high noon, and it was practically impossible with the weather we were having last week.

Thursday was the last day of class, and afterwards Pete and I had some work to do. We had arranged and markets an unoffical going-away party for the ISUP students, because many of us will be on our way home or elsewhere by the time the official one rolls around. We picked up ten crates of beer from Lidl, as well as four bottles of the hard stuff. That's 300 beers and enough Fisk, vodka and akvakvit to give a few hippos a good buzz. The party took place in the basement and "backyard" of Kathrine, and we kicked it off around nine. Of course, that means that most people didn't start rolling in until ten. Even then, we were a little worried there was no way we'd get rid of all that alcohol. We were selling beer for 5 kr, or 5 for 20kr, and shots for 10kr, or 2 for 15kr. And free kisses. All great deals. Before we knew it we were handing out beers by the armful, pouring shots, singing songs and making kroner hand over fist. The place filled up quick, and all-in-all some 100+ students came by. We ran out of booze around 2:30, making the endeavor a wild success.

There was one tiny splotch on the evening. At one point, after downing a Snakebite (the Australian method of skulling a beer) I noticed a man in his sixties drinking a beer on the couch. I thought nothing of it, and moved on. The next time I saw this guy, he was enraged, and throwing monkey punches at Pete outside. All said, it took about two hours and four native Danish speakers to get rid of this guy, and by the time he left, he was torn up and apologetic. No one's entirely sure what was going on there, so I'll throw my theory/hat in the ring. This guys lives nearby to this rowdy student-dorm, and has dealt with the loud parties for years. Some time ago, when he was a younger man, he got fed up and crashed a party, found a meaty international student, and threw a right-hook or two. He enjoyed it so much, he made a tradition of it, and has been back every year since. This year, Pete was the lucky guy.

Friday morning Pete and I awoke and cleaned up all the bottles, because bottles are as good as cash in this country. We used the deposits to buy chips, Fisk, and pear juice. Forgive me this tangent. Pete has been obsesses with this inexpensive carbonated pear cider. He simply calls it "pear juice". He's been drinking it all summer, any time of the day, especially in the thirsty morning. I finally caved and bought a bottle of my own, and one night, I was pouring myself a glass, and I noticed this "pear juice" contains alcohol. Not much, mind you, but enough to guaruntee that alcohol remains in Pete's bloodstream at all times. We might run into some dependancy issues by the end of this trip..


So we made the purchase, I ran off to print off one of my papers, and Pete headed to the library to study. It was another warm day, and Abby, Kara and I made our way to the beach for the afternoon. I've seen many terrible tattoos here, and one of the worst was staring me in the face as I made my way to the sea. It was on this guy's back, and simply said "Like I Care." Obviously, he doesn't. After a relaxing afternoon on the beach, I raced back to shower in time for a barbecue at Michael's place in Charlottenlund. Michael's a Viking with it all. Perfect kids, wife, job, cars, house, etc. Josh and Weldon, the two Vikings in Oslo this summer, arrived that day and were at the barbecue with the rest of the crowd...

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That was something of a half-post. It's Thursday morning and finished my papers, and am heading to turn them in within the hour. The rest of the day is booked. I'm hoping to have time in Finland to catch-up on this, but it will resemble something of a skeleton with some loose meat hanging from the bones. So tomorrow morning we're leaving for Helsinki. Of course I haven't packed. Boy do I hate packing. Hopefully report back soon.

A Weekender's Weekend - Part 1 of 1

As I sit at my desk on a clear Sunday evening, dog-tired from a relentless weekend, and poised to spend all of tomorrow in the library, I finally have a chance to soak it all up for a bit. I think it's safe to say at this point in the summer that this experience has taught me a lot. I know part of traveling, part of living abroad, is the self-improvement opportunities, the clarities in thought, that can come with exposure to other cultures, and more importantly, removal from one's own. And I can say with confidence that I've made lifestyle changes based on said experiences. But this summer I've had a lot more instant-satisfaction, immediate lightblub experiences. The realizations haven't been bubbling out after brewing for months. They've come more like a clear bell ringing on bright clear morning. Anyhow, this past weekend was one full of these, and on top of that, we're in the thick of Denmark's best ten weather days of the year.

Wednesday started overcast, but eventually cleared up, making for a nice night. Josefin came from Lund for a visit, and we had lunch near Kongens Nytorv and had a fika (coffee break) at a nice place near the CBS campus. Pete, Abby, Josefin and I all headed to the Statens Museum for Kunst, Denmark's National Gallery. There were some interesting exhibits, including this collection of Turkish portraits and perspectives from the 1600s. By the time we were out, the clouds had cleared and the sun was out. We had pizza at Amigo's, this great place up the street on Finsenvj, and spent the rest of the night relaxing. It was nice to catch-up with Josefin again, and Pete and I will spend another day in Sweden next weekend.

Thursday it was class all day, then catch the train headed south for Marielyst. Marielyst is a beach town, and home to a lot of Danish summer houses. We went down to visit Rikke, a Viking, and her husband Peter and two girls, Sara and Line. Though the bus was delayed 45 minutes (a sin in Denmark) the sky was still lit when we arrived. We had pizzas and the biggest beer I've seen in Denmark (75cl) and listened to some CCR covers sang with an Elvis accent. We were set loose for the night, and we planted at Kleine, a small music bar. We ordered rounds the Danish way, a Tuborg and a shot of Fisk, and we ended up in convo with some locals. Somehow we both eventually found the place on Cypresvej 8, and woke up bright and early Friday morning for breakfast. After breakfast we went for a quick nap on the beach. The afternoon was spent at a "middle ages park", which was basically a permanent renassaince fair. We arrived just in time to see them launch the trebuchets into the river. The place was laid out like a small village, with a blacksmith and a port and a bakery, etc. There was one game, which consisted of throwing stones at two metal targets hanging from a cross. The joust began around 14:00, and Pete and I were sitting front-row 40 yardline. They split the crowd between the two jousters, and our knight ended up the victor. The loser was handed a mug of water, and he rounded the grounds, eventually riding past us. He tossed the water directly on Pete and I, successfully immersing us in middle ages culture. After a herring and pork lunch in a dimly lit eating hall, we escaped Nykobing Falster and headed back to Marielyst. One more visit to the beach, followed by the Miss Marielyst beauty pagent, and we were ready to take the bus back to the train station.

We were back in Copenhagen and home by 23:00, and ready to go out. We took the metro down to the harbour, where the SS Stubnitz was anchored. Stubnitz is an old DDR warship-turned party boat. It's a mass of twisted steel and fog lights, with three levels for drinking and dancing. It was dead when we arrived, but eventually picked up, and was overall a decent time. We were boarding a bus for Legoland at 7:30, so we were sure to get back in time to sleep a bit. 7:30 came early, and I was pretty much as tired as I could be while still functioning when the bus left. I slept most of the way to the amusement park, which is in central Jutland, Jutland being the biggest island, in the west. The weather was beautiful, and Legoland was packed. There were pretty much three kinds of people at the park: Parents, kids, and those of us who arrived on a double-decker bus from Copenhagen. Some of the rides were pretty fun, even novel, like the PowerBuilder, which allowed us to design our own ride. The highlight of the day was probably the Falck Fire Brigade. This ride is human-powered. The group hops in a fire truck, and pumps a lever to make the truck move down the street. Once on the other side, you shoot a fire hose, powered by pumping the water manually, into the burning house. The fire goes out, and you jump back in the truck, pumping to reach the other side. Pete and I watched, noticed good methods and bad, and by the time it was our turn, we pretty much had it down to a science. The other seven fire trucks stood no chance. The gate opened, and we were in the truck and across before you could say "8-year-old competition." Pete aimed the fire hose while I pumped, which was probably the most work I've done all summer. When I thought my arms might fall off, the fire went out, and we raced back to the beginning. When we finished, everyone else was still extinguishing their fires. We exchanged high-fives and posed for imaginary pictures.

I eventually tired of Legoland, the four million kids there, and the sensory overload. Which was convenient, because it was time to start heading for Nyborg, where we would spend the rest of the weekend with Viking Erik Juel, land baron and owner of Juelsberg, a massive estate just outside Nyborg. There were some problems involving ticket purchases, but we eventually arrived at the station, and Erik was there with his wife Lotte to receive us.

We had dinner at the best restaraunt in Nyborg, sitting at a patio on a quite canal. Erik and Lotte are serious travelers, having spent much of the past year in Spain, Italy, India and Indonesia. They spoke candidly about the beauty of the East, and it was especially interesting to hear about India. We sipped on a good microbrew and dined on the catch of the day, a typical Danish panfish. Then the rounds of Norwegian snaps started coming, and really only stopped with dessert and coffee. Lotte told us they were trying to make sure we'd go to bed early.

We drove just outside of Nyborg, eventually arriving at a large gate signifying the entrance into Juelsberg. The estate is massive, over 2000 acres in total, and we pulled along the side of the mansion having seen only a fraction of it. Erik showed us around the "garden", as he called it. His father had set-up a nine-hole golf course on the yard, and he encouraged us to rise early and play it. After a goodnight beer, he left us to the fridge and the first floor of the mansion. The place was built in the 18th century, and has all the original furniture, and portraits, guns, swords. You name it. We slept in the far end of the center wing.

We woke up at 6am to hit the links. We played the entire nine with a five wood, a five iron, and a child-size seven. Considering the difficulty of some of the holes, including one that required a shot over a pond and a tennis court, we did pretty well. Erik was impressed. We had a nice breakfast in the front yard, where the morning sun was already high in the sky. The stars of the show were Lotte's pancakes, though the fruit smoothies were no slouch. Erik, Pete and I then piled into the VW and headed south to visit Egeskov, a big f'n castle. Erik knows the castle's owner, a count by the name of Michael, and we pulled into the private drive just in time to help Michael move a few things into the castle. There must be some type of large-property owner social group. The castle interior was of course stunning, and my two favorite rooms were the hunting room and Rigborg's Room. The hunting room was filled with mounted big game, African and East Asian artifacts, and a spectrum of hunting weapons. Rigborg's room contained a dollhouse to rule all dollhouses called Titania's Palace. It was designed after the one described in A Midsummer Night's Dream, and it took some 15 years to complete. Crazy attention to detail. For instance, there's a bookcase full of Shakespeare, and one can actually read any of the books. Also, the cannons in the study (not sure why those are necessary) actually fire.

The rest of the castle grounds include various gardens, a huge car/motorcycle/aviation/emergency vehicle collection, and god knows what else. There is also a big hedge maze, which Pete and I survived, much to the dismay of Erik, who was watching from the watchtower in the middle. Michael comped us lunch at the restaurant and we ate while Erik told dirty jokes about parrots and Frenchmen. After lunch we drove north to visit Ladbyskibet, a Viking ship burial unearthed some years ago by a farmer. An unidentified Viking chieftain was buried in his ship with nine horses and his favorite dogs, as well as everything he needed for a pleasant afterlife.

We boarded the train in Nyborg, destined for Copenhagen and arrived in the early evening. After some beers on Nyhavn and a failed attempt to find a beach party, we paid another visit to Christiana, which I've recently been told is in serious danger of disappearing soon. Most Danes support the place, as its presence maintains the perception that Denmark is progressive and inclusive. But the powers that be consider it a smudge on the government record, and a series of events has been set in motion that could mean the end of the Freestate.

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It's Wednesday as I'm finishing this post, so I apologize for the length. Monday I spent five hours in the computer lab typing furiously, and hit a wall at page 8 of the advertising plan I'm writing for Spotted Cow. That of course made me thirsty. After a small BBQ in Kathrine's backyard, Pete and I caught a train to Hellerup. Bianca, a mutal friend and Dane studying in Madison this fall, invited us to her going-away party, which was held at her parents' gorgeous house north of Copenhagen.

Yesterday it was class all day, a bit more paper-writing, and then a train to Roskilde. Thomas, a Danish Viking from '01 or so, invited us to his home for a traditional meal of Smørrebrød. We sat with his wife and kids in front of a big spread of black bread, mayonaisse, all types of fish, vegetables, etc. He explained each combination, and the fact that smørrebrød is the lunch everyday for school-age children, and a few nights a week for the average Dane. After dinner we walked down to the beautiful Roskilde harbor and enjoyed some beers and convo by the fjord.

Today it looks like I'll make a museum visit and finish up my paper. Tonight the outdoor film clan visits Copenhagen, and we'll head out for a carless drive-in experience and Juno. My next two weeks are packed to the gills, and I have to carve out some time to write another paper. A little scary, but nothing to get excited about..

I'm alive

Reference post title.

Viking Ships and Hooligan Pubs

I've been less hungover. Sometimes I think a hangover is a great equalizer. If you had a really good time last night, and John Doe sat at home watching Star Trek reruns, you're going to wake up suffering from a hangover with teeth, and John will greet the morning sun with a clear head and he'll know exactly where both his shoes are. But John will never have any stories to tell. Last night was one of those that I went into with few expectations. The local football club - FC København - donated 300 tickets for their match against Esbjerg, another Danish league team. We had free reign over a big section on the south end of the stadium, and the gameplay was fairly exciting, albeit a bit chippy. After the game, most of us were planning on heading back to our respective residences, but Astrid, our Danish social coordinator, suggested we head to a good Danish football pub to celebrate the victory. The place was great. Affordable beer, foosball, and real live Danish soccer hooligans. The latter ended up getting us into a bit of trouble. Earlier in the day, we found a club apparel store and picked up some FC København gear. I was wearing a jersey I had bought, and these crazy fans were excited that their club has fans in the States. I didn't mention we bought the shirts six hours previous. They bought round after round, writing it off to team relations. Each round consisted of a Carlsberg and a shot of Fisk, or Fisherman, as it's most commonly called. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and after a number of those rounds one hooligan became bored and punched an Aussie friend in the face, prompting a tense few minutes and our eventual departure. I'm still feeling the Fisk a bit this morning.

This past weekend was the first I've spent entirely in Copenhagen. Friday night Pete and I got a late start, and hit a bump on the road when Pete realized he bought 'light' beer, which in Denmark translates to 2.6% alcohol. That doesn't make any GD sense, but some things aren't worth pondering. Thankfully I had a cache of red wine, and we went out into the city to meet up with Thomas at his brother's friend's place. They had a big head start on us, so we were forced to take "penalty shots" as punishment for sobriety. An American med student visiting, Nick, tried hiding one of his shots, and was given a penalty shot when his transgression was uncovered. Drunk medical students are hilarious. We headed to the center and slipped into a cool club called The Happy Pig. The place was fairly big, but was made up of a series of smallish rooms, with live music on the ground floor and a DJ on the first. If you haven't gathered, going out in Copenhagen requires frequent small loans, so when a "drink special" presents itself, we get it. If the drink special was one really big long island iced tea that everyone has to lap out of at the same time, we'd get it. If the price was right. This particular night it was ten shots of Fisk for 100 kroner. That's a good deal. We danced for a while, then headed out to LA Bar to enjoy the ambiance of tiki bar and ten kroner tequila shots. On the walk back there was an incident involving a shortcut and a tall barbwire fence. You'll have to ask me about that one in person.

Saturday, after Friday was sufficiently slept off, Pete and I headed out into the gloomy day and bussed to Assistens Kierkegaard (sp?), the massive cemetery in Norrebro. Many famous Danes are buried there, including Søren Kierkegaard and HC Andersen. There's an index of sorts near the entrance that indicates which graves are worth visiting. I wonder what the criteria for that list is. The place is more like a well-groomed park than a cemetery, and people are strolling through or even biking down the path that splits the place in half. It started to rain, and we made it back to Kathrine a little damp. Saturday evening we had a bbq and took advantage of the smaller-than-usual group by hanging around the common room, sharing drinking games and getting to know people better. I ended up in this crazy conversation (hard to believe, right?) with a Russian-born New Yorker, who was at a crossroads in life, and thought coming to Copenhagen would reveal the right path to her. I probably made things a bit fuzzier. Two Italian guys talked Pete and I into making a late run to McDonald's. When we arrived, I couldn't believe the menu. Four meals. Meal #1: Two Big Macs, fries and a drink for 72 kroner. Meal #4: Four cheeseburgers and a drink for 59 kroner. There are two problems with this menu. First, who eats that much McDonald's late night. Second, I'm not paying $15 for two Big Macs!

Sunday we hopped on the regional train out to Roskilde. When we went to the city for the festival, we really didn't look around much. Roskilde is actually the medieval capital of Denmark, and is a very beautiful town. Unusually hilly for Denmark, and sloping down to the big fjord that connects the city to the sea. The Roskilde domkirke was fairly impressive, and of course, under construction. We walked around the old cobblestone streets of the residential area, eventually making it down to the fjord, where the Viking Ship Museum lay in waiting. Some years back they unearthed five Viking-era ships from the fjord, and reconstructed them for public viewing. Then they built a museum for them, because it's hard to charge admission without at least four walls. The ships were scuttled in an effort to protect the capital city from the ruthless invading Norwegians, and they were mostly in splinters when they were surfaced. The reconstructions were pretty sweet, and next door the harbour was filled with recreations of Viking ships, one of which had recently been sailed from Roskilde to Dublin and back, tracing an old Viking pillaging route.

Today I'm supposed to start my term papers, but the sun is out in full force for the first time in a week, and I'm not wasting it. Maybe Tivoli tonight..