A Ferry, Some Fury, and a Friend (#4)

Day: 7 + a Rest Day... Mölle, Sweden to Copenhagen, Denmark

Average Speed: Does it matter?

Distance Cycled in Last Two Days: 102.3 km (64 Miles) 

Distance Cycled Total: 763 km (411 Miles)

Mood: IN LOVE WITH COPENHAGEN

Bye-Bye, Sweden!

I get a bit nervous when it comes to big mass transportation stations. I don't know why. It's always a scary experience for me. There's too much noise, and there's too much that can go... wrong. Airports, bus terminals, trains stations- all of them give me a bit of a panic attack, which I try to hide. 

I've got the NYC Subway system down pat. But Grand Central and Penn Station still raise my blood pressure. 

So when I entered the ferry terminal / train station / bus terminal in Helsingborg, Sweden, I was overwhelmed. And I was the only person in the busy station with a fully loaded bicycle. 

You know when a squirrel runs into the road? And then it freezes? And then its eyes dart around? And then it runs one way? And then the other? And then it freezes again? And then its eyes dart? And then you think it's the stupidest animal in the world? 

I empathize with the damn squirrel. 

Eventually, I realized that in order to board the ferry, I needed to head to the top floor of the terminal. I knew this because there were kindergarten-style pictures of a boat with an "up" arrow next to them.

But my bicycle would not fit in the elevator, and the escalator was out of service, so I needed to take three separate trips up two flights in order to get where I thought I needed to be. 

The lady at the ticket counter was nice enough:

"You can't bring bicycles this way. Follow the bicycle signs outside the station," she said,

Hello, Denmark!

smiling politely.

"Oh. I didn't see any bicycle signs," I said.

"That's because you're inside. The signs are outside," she said, smiling politely. 

"Are you sure I can't board here? It was a lot of work bringing this bike up here," I said. 

"The elevators are specifically designed to discourage people from bringing bicycles up here," she said, smiling politely. 

"So I guess I'll go back downstairs then? Is that what you mean?" I said, hoping she'd empathize with the squirrel. 

"Yes. That is what I mean," she said, smiling politely. 

"Okay. Sorry about that," I said, defeatedly. 

"You're not the first!" she said, smiling politely. 

And although she said that last part in English, the translation was clear: "There's lots of idiots in the world! And I get to see so many of them!"

"To be or not to be that idiot who takes pictures
whilst holding up traffic..."

I figured it out. 

Don't worry. 

And once on the ferry, I leaned my bike up against the gate that lowers to allow all cars to leave. So I apologize to all the people who were delayed by ten minutes after we arrived in Denmark because the gate couldn't be lowered due to the bicycle that no crew member wanted to handle.

I was too busy taking pictures of Hamlet's castle from the upper deck. 

It was a lazy, gray day pedaling into Copenhagen, but once I was there, the clouds lifted, the sun shone, and everything was right. 

Here's the route I took:

Elevation Profile

My Route

My first impression of Copenhagen: I could live here. 

At every turn, there is something that to see. 

It's clean. 

Canal. Yup. That's the caption. Just "Canal."

It's historic. 

It's beautiful. 

Bicycles rule the streets. They're everywhere. Literally. It's actually difficult to remember that cars share the same road. You know those signs that say "Share the Road" in the USA, which are intended to make motorists aware of cyclists? That same sign would have the opposite meaning here, reminding cyclists that pedestrians and cars still exist. 

Somewhat ashamedly, I took one of those touristy boat tours when I got here. No regrets. Solo-passenger-in-a-too-tight-green-jersey-unprepared-for-sudden-cold and still, no regrets. 

Besides, I could here the strains of "Won't You Come Home, Bill Bailey?" meeting us when we docked, and I felt at home. It's jazz-fest here in Copenhagen. And I found the source of the music. Old people sitting on lawn chairs listening to New Orleans style jazz- now that's my crowd.

And although Europeans still have not figured out the secret of clapping on beats 2 and 4 rather than 1 and 3, it was still a good time. Just ask this guy:

Issues* with my (brand new) MacBook kept it from being a stress free night- but I took advantage of the rest day. *Issues persist by the way... it's not easy typing this now!

First stop- Christiania. 

Norway is impeccably neat and tidy. 

Sweden lets its hair down a bit. 

And Denmark says "Screw it. Let's have fun." 

This sentiment is epitomized in the now-defunct commune of Christiania (or "Free Town"), which is now a semi-quasi-tourist attraction / marijuana peddling site. 

Danish Cows Let their Freak Flag Fly

The motto is "Peace, Brother... Unless Your Bicycle has a GoPro Camera on its Handlebars... in Which Case, You Will be Accosted by some Scary Dudes." 

So enjoy it. 

Don't inhale too much of the air. 

And whatever you do, don't wear a camera around your neck (or on your handlebars) when you enter, because there's a limit to the chillax-ness that is Christiania. 

CHEERS FOR THE BEER
KRISTIN AND MIKE RAUCCI!

My bones are still intact. But I was surrounded by three toughs, and said bones were threatened. It was scarier than being at a ferry terminal for sure. No, really. I was scared.
(Video forthcoming once Mac issues are figured out)

Mike Kerschnar, from San Francisco, painted this in an afternoon.
Apparently, I couldn't be bothered to move my thumb.

Jonas Bünger (AKA "Ginger") About to stick a landing

Still, fun artist hippies abound. Including an artist from San Francisco, and a fearless teenaged skateboarder christening his masterpiece. 









Lastly, I had my fourth reunion in seven days. This time with a guy I haven't seen in 18 years. 

Anders (pronounced "On-us") Iversen is yet another Up with People alumnus whom I traveled with as a student. 

He is still unfailingly kind, soft spoken, and humble. 

We reminisced together for a while, and he brought up the time when we were rooming with a host family together in Great Falls, Montana. 

It's a memory I've repressed.

Let's just say it involves Anders being deflowered as I tried to fall asleep on the couch in the adjacent room.

Anders and Me

There's so much more to it than that. 

A mechanical bull is involved.

Seriously.

That's life on the road at 19. 

I know you have questions about this. 

They're going to go unanswered. 

It's late and I have to prepare myself for mass transit tomorrow.

I'm nervous.


P.S.

Here's a guy who wears his prison number with pride...

A true prisoner of love.