Another Boring Trip Story

My apologies for the immense amount of time it's been since I last wrote. A combination of extreme apathy and traveling has prevented me from writing recently. I can't possibly recall to you the events of the last week and a half, but I will recall my journey to Copenhagen for your reading pleasure.

Although I probably didn't need to, I skipped class on Thursday in order to give myself plenty of time to catch the train from Uppsala to Stockholm-Arlanda airport (a disappointing 130 SEK, or right now, about $14, each way). After getting three-quarters of the way to the train station, I realized I had left my camera behind, so I ended up cutting it close anyway. Good work, Brian. I made it to the airport okay, though, and was soon (after an inevitable 55 minute delay) being flown on Norwegian Air to Copenhagen.

I exited the airport to find Mr. Reardon awaiting me. He quickly guided me to a metro-ticket station and then whisked me directly off to a club. After spending about $8 to check my coat and suitcase, we proceeded to stay for two cokes (I should add, with a splash – nay, a drop – of rum) and promptly left. It turned out to be the end of our night. Due to his recent residence elsewhere (ask him about this), Reardon allowed me to stay in his room.

Friday was taken up by a visit to the Carlsberg beer factory. We walked around the museum there, and obviously, sampled some beers at the end. After a kebab, it was time to return to Matt's dorm for some dinner. Yes, that's right. After eating, it was time to eat.

Fellow BC student Jeff cooked an incredible meal for about 15 roommates. I was in awe that a college student could prepare such a feast. Sure, I can cook pasta and chicken breast, but I'm no Rachel Ray, although this is probably due more to the fact that I'm not addicted to amphetamines (nor am I a woman).

After forcing down some Tuborg Classics (beer) and an oddly delicious Red Bull-red wine combination, we headed off to a Danish dorm party, oddly similar to a BC party. Reardon and I then parted ways (again, ask him), and I headed back to my (his) room.

Our plan to awake early and tour the city was corrupted by our own respective hangovers (if I had a dime for every time...). Nevertheless, at around one, we forced ourselves out of isolation and into Copenhagen. We basically just walked around, took a mandatory picture with a statue, stepped inside the obligatory church, and pissed off the required palace guard by playing paparazzi (look at that vocabulary!). After this typical touristy stuff, we did a typical Copenhagen touristy thing. Christiania is a free town; that is, it is not subject to Danish or European Union laws. It's basically an old hippie district of Copenhagen, filled with drug dealers and shoddy buildings. Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable walk through the Sixties.

We bought some dinner food and more alcohol, ate, drank, played some beer pong, then went out to a club. After an enjoyable night, we – that's right, I AND Matt – returned to Matt's for some sleep (no, not that; he found a dormmate's room to sleep in). Two hours later, I headed to the airport.

The only other thing worth mentioning from that point until now is an announcement by the captain of the plane on which I flew back to Stockholm-Arlanda. He says, first in Norwegian, then in English, that he apologizes for the smokey smell on board and he is checking into its cause – just what you want to hear inside of a rickety metal tube at 40,000 feet. It turned out to be some anti-freeze liquid that had gotten inside the engine and then the ventilation system. Whether that is believable or not is up to you, but I am sitting safely in my room in Uppsala.

I'm heading to Oslo, Norway, on Saturday, but I'll try to throw one more entry on here before then, probably about Arsenal's imminent Champions League match. Or maybe about falling off my bike. We'll see.

Song: "Lateralus" – Tool