Gringa in Denmark

I arrived in Aalborg Denmark at 11:30 pm on Thursday, July 23rd. The airport is tiny and the guards at the entrance as we got off the plane looked shocked to see my American passport. He quickly glanced through the stamps and then let me through to claim my luggage. I am used to customs and the hassles when traveling between countries, so once I collected my bag I was looking around for the next step, the next line to wait in, the next paper to fill out. But there was nothing. I half expected the airport security to come running after me shouting obscenities in Danish as I wandered through the empty airport looking for a cab, but of course they didn't. I finally found the line of taxis out front and got in the first one and asked him to take me to Den Fede Ælling (The Fat Duckling) where my friend, Mads, works. He had to ask the other taxi drivers where it was which wasn't so comforting since I had pretty much absolutely no clue where I was going. Then we drove off into the darkness. The area surrounding the Aalborg airport is extremely black with nothing else around for several miles and as the movie Hostel popped into my head I told myself there was no way this nice taxi driver would ever mess with me.

We arrived at the harbor in Aalborg, where The Fat Duckling is actually a cafe on a boat, and the driver stopped the cab and told me, "It's around here somewhere." As I sighed and got out of the car, resigned to the fact that this guy wasn't really worried about whether I found it or not, all the young drunk people walking along the road stared at me as if I were an alien with my rather large backpack. Or maybe they were just wondering how a girl like me can carry such a bag. Careful boys, I'm stronger than I look! So I wandered back and forth a little bit, looking like an idiot because I'm a tourist and all tourists look like idiots, trying to decide which boat I dare venture onto to see if it was the Duckling. Finally I decided to ask one of the restaurants on the road if they had any idea where my friend's work was, and after one silly guy who thought his jokes were funny and told me it was actually across the harbor, he eventually giggled and told me it was right across the street. Fucker!!

When I entered the Duckling I found a nice looking guy working at the bar who told me his name was Jesper and apparently they had been expecting me. I was so relieved when he told me that Mads was upstairs and I wasn't lost at all, despite my feeling as if I were on another planet. So I stowed my bag downstairs and went upstairs to greet my long lost friend from high school. He hoisted me up in his arms and spun my around and gave me a big hug and told me how nice it was to see me. It has been about 8 or 9 years since we had seen each other when he was a foreign exchange student at my high school in New Mexico. He returned home when school let out and we had eventually reconnected through Facebook. I was to be his first friend from New Mexico to visit him in Denmark since then.

Mads had to finish up his work shift, but introduced me to Jesper's girlfriend, Shannon, and told me we should hang out. I was terrified to be paired up with this girl not knowing whether or not we would get along. But as luck would have it, she turned out to be awesome! We spent 5 days talking and shopping and walking and hanging out, riding roller coasters and visiting amusement parks.

I can't remember the last time I had ridden a rollercoaster, if ever. But I sure have had a huge dose of them in Denmark. It's definitely been a cultural experience for me as I'm not typically a person who would enjoy going to an amusement park. But Shannon and I had a blast at the little Tivoli in Aalborg, and then with Mads and Jesper at Sommerland in Farup. I have eaten more hot dogs in the past 6 days in Denmark than I think I have in the past 6 years. The food is not my favorite, but I've definitely been experiencing a different type of cuisine.

Yesterday I took the train from Aalborg to Copenhagen. I decided I had to check the city and after looking through all the various hostel websites, I figured I would try my luck with couch surfing and wrote a few people to see if anyone had a couch available on such short notice. I was amazed when I checked a couple hours later and had a reply from Thomas who told me he did have a couch and gave me his address and phone number and that was that. I got on the train the next day at noon and 4 hours later I was wandering the streets of Copenhagen trying to figure out where the fuck Thomas's apartment was at. I don't have a sim card for my Iphone in Denmark because they work on a totally different system and I figured it was a waste of money to get it for only a few days, so my phone is pretty useless here without wifi. I haven't been able to pick up any wifi here either which is a total bummer, but for some reason a little blue dot appeared on the map application for my iphone and showed me which direction I was going and which direction I needed to go. I guess it was a little Danish magic. And I got here in one piece.

I am devastated to say that the little mermaid statue is not in right now... she's in Hong Kong for an exhibition. So I will see Copenhagen without the little mermaid. But at least they have excellent shopping here!!!!

Green Grass

Hyde Park is the largest park in central London. It's home to the famous Kensington Garden, the Peter Pan statue, and the Diana, Princess of Whales, Memorial Fountain. The fountain is really spectacular in the most simply way. I don't think they could have made a better memorial for such a princess. It's not a high, spouting fountain, but a simple flowing river-like fountain. Everyone is invited to have a sit and stick their feet in. As I sat under a tree at Hyde Park today and watched all the kids in their swimsuits or the fully clothes teenagers splashing through the fountain, I was overwhelmed with the feeling that this is a very happy place.

The park is definitely the place to be in the summer time. Everyone is laying in the grass, soaking up the sun, rollerblading, pushing strollers, jogging, biking, even horseback riding. There are several areas with lawn chairs, which I am sure they rent to people to sit and take it all in. And there are paddle boats if you want to paddle around The Serpentine, which is the small body of water in the middle of the park. One thing I love about London is how I always see girls riding their bikes around town in beautiful blouses, leggings, and platform shoes. Now that takes talent!!!

I was adopted again today by a stranger. On my way to Harrod's to see what all the fuss was about, a guy on the street started talking to me. Originally from Ghana, he has lived in the UK for many years. And while waiting for his appointment at the German embassy to get a Visa for a work trip, he asked if he could accompany me as I wandered around the gigantic department store. How could I say no?? And apparently one of his brothers and his sister-in-law both work there. What a small world! We didn't run into them, of course. Harrod's is a neverending maze of clothes, shoes, toys, furniture, athletic equipment, and pretty much anything and everything else that your heart could desire. My favorite part was definitely the furniture. But seeing as how most of the sofas cost something like £7,000 I don't think I will be picking mine out any time soon.

The Office is a really awesome shoe store in London where I have purchased two pairs of very trendy sandals to decorate my feet and to make me feel like i'm not such a jungle fairy. They are both very comfortable, but apparently not when you walk for 10 miles in them. Both of my small toes of each foot are sporting rather large, pink blisters. Oh well... like I said, these feet were made for walking!!!

These Feet Are Made For Walking.

Yesterday, as I was sitting at the cafe down the street from my hostel staring out the window at all the people passing feeling sorry for myself, a guy sat down next to me and smiled. Eventually I commented on what a good people watching spot it was and we got to talking. He was a deliciously cliche Parisian and dashingly good looking. We exchanged the usual small talk and I got to admitting that I wasn't exactly sure where I was on the map. After making a blonde comment, he kindly pointed out which direction was north and then asked if I would like to walk with him a bit to try and get a feel for the area before he had to catch his train back to Paris. I was pleasantly surprised by this excellent connection with Jean-Christophe who is actually a fellow couch surfer and has hosted many a weary traveler in his flat in the center of Paris. Apparently there are well-mannered people in this city, unfortunately for the Londoners moft of them are from Paris.

After that I wandered the day away until I couldn't walk anymore. I stumbled through St. James Park, Green Park, the east corner of Hyde Park and of course Buckingham Palace. I saw a few of the famous guards standing at their posts. They're a bit too serious for my taste. And what a shit job... they have to stand there for hours in those uniforms in the heat and the cold without moving while hundreds of tourists stop and pose to snap pictures with them. And they can't even smile!!!

Piccadilly Backpackers, where I am now staying is nice enough. It's the first hostel that I have been to though, where nobody has spoken to me. Everyone seems to be really serious, either that or tired and confused just like me. (The latter, I hope.) But I thought the whole hostel experience was supposed to be about ambracing your crazy youth... sex, drugs, and whatever your musical preference might be!

Last night I couldn't sleep... my wisdom teeth hurt. And this morning I was woken up at 8:30 am by the sound of the ear rattling jack-hammer from the construction across the street. There's no curtain over the window in my room either so the sun came barging in. Oh well... at least I wasn't nursing a hangover. And at least the sun came out today. I even put shorts on. Not the teeny weeny ones from Puerto, but shorts all the same. And yes, Sofi... people do wear flip flops in Europe!!!!

Turbulance.

I'm just a little jungle girl in the big city. Or at least that's how I feel right now. Today is my 5th day in London. So far it's been a mixture of good and bad feelings. I spent two days wander down Portobello Road in the market that was featured in the movie Notting Hill. It's not quite as glamorous as they show it in the film, but I think I like it in the real world much better anyway. On the weekends the streets are covered with booths filled with vintage clothing, cool t-shirts, antiques, scarves and funky fedoras. So much stuff I couldn't figure out how to spend my money. I wandered into a little cafe along the way and wound up sitting for two hours talking to the owner and some young guy whose family has had a fruit stand at the market on Portobello Road for like 100 years or something like that. He kept complaining about market life and the area and the people. I told him he should see the shitty town where I grew up in New Mexico. He would never complain again. I got lucky a few times meeting new people who would stop and chat and smile for a bit. But for the most part, like my friends said, Londoners are not a friendly bunch.

My work exchange has not quite panned out, and yesterday the woman asked me to leave. Friday night I went out with some friends and stayed out until 4:00 am. I stayed over at those friends house but wound up leaving early to go back home and try and sleep. I got back to the place where I was staying around 9 and fell asleep until 2. I don't think an atomic bomb could have woken me from that sleep. But apparently Angella didn't approve and said she felt really uncomfortable walking around her house while I was sleeping. I wonder, what would you expect from a 25 year old woman staying in London for the first time? Is it unfair of me to come and stay in a strangers house and want to go out and see the sights and enjoy myself and have a good time? I guess next time I know not to stay with old fuddy duddies.

My first night out in London was cool. I have officially been to my first English pub. Apparently, on Friday evenings there in not much of a rush hour because everbody is standing on the streets outside the pubs with a brew or two in hand getting shitfaced. I spent the evening in the company of my Spanish friend who introduced me to his friends from Venezuela, Brazil, and Argentina. Oh how I have missed my latinos!!! I felt quite at home rambling in Spanish on the street as the Brazilian and the Argentine took turns insulting each other's countries. In the span on the night we visited many a pub, one in particular called The Cock, where nobody could stop giggling at the name for more than 5 minutes. After The Cock, I wound up in a cab with 3 other people who have been in Puerto Viejo and we headed to East London where we began the search for a club that offered some reggae music. I pulled out the Iphone and we bobbed our heads some some Collie Budz and reminisced about the Caribbean. I have to say that for all the places in the world that I have been so far, there isn't one club that I've been to that can top Johnny's.

I've gotten lost twice in London now since apparently the weekends are a good time to cancel trains and I've been stuck in the Tube station, coming out the mouth of some random stop wondering where the hell I am and what to do next. The buses are a complete mystery to me and when I went into a coffee shop to ask if someone could give me the number for a taxi, they looked at me like I was a complete and total idiot. I have to say that I am dissapointed in the people of this city. I know much more about Costa Rica than they do about their area of the city. And people here really aren't helpful at all. I guess that's their karma. But even Angella was like, "Well, you wouldn't really go into a coffee shop to ask for directions, now would you?!" Sorry, I didn't know there was an etiquette for direction asking especially since I'M FUCKING LOST!!!

Adventures of a Gringa...

I'm always surprised every time I step off an airplane. I mean, when you think about it, it's sort of like a time machine. If you're not sitting next to a window, you don't see the outside. For all you know, the clouds and sky and patchwork pieces of earth you see below could be a movie someone is cleverly broadcasting outside your window. I always think about the movie French Kiss, at the beginning when Meg Ryan is sitting in an airplane and freaks out because she's afraid of flying and busts the door open and falls out of the fake plane that's simulating flight. It definitely looked real to me. Anyway, it's just amazing to me how you can step into this box with a couple hundred other people, sit for 5 hours or so, and step off into a completely different country, a completely different world. I wonder sometimes if maybe it's really not different at all... maybe the sets and actors have just been changed.
I made my first friend in London before I even got here. We met at the Newark airport while charging our cell phones. I asked him about what train or bus I should take to get downtown and he politely gave me directions. We didn't sit together on the plane and I had all but forgotten about the conversation when he found me at the baggage claim to ask if I wanted to go with him since he was taking the same train. I couldn't have been luckier to find such a nice person to help me. He must have thought I was an idiot when he asked me where I was going and I was like.... I dunno. I told him I had a distant friend who lives in London and told me that his roommate would be home if I wanted to go hang out or leave my luggage at his place. I figured I would keep my fingers crossed and if worse came to worse I could go sit at a cafe somewhere and read my book until the evening when I would be meeting up with my host for my work exchange. The guy furrowed his eyebrows with a semi worried expression on his face and gave me his email and phone number, telling me to call him if my friends weren't home. Then he helped me get a pass for the Tube (or the Subway) and even took me to get a sim card for my cell phone so I wouldn't be without technology. This all reminded me that there still are people who sometimes do nice things for no reason at all.
Later on when I was telling my friends at their apartment about my experience and how everyone was so nice to me, they told me that everyone I must have spoken to wasn't from London because Londonders are not really friendly people at all. I think maybe it's something to do with the weather and the sunshine and warmth outside that has everyone in a better mood. Either that or they can't help but smile back at me with the big goofy grin I've had plastered across my face since I arrived. This is when I am at my happiest, completely lost in a totally new world.
You never think about how the 8 hour time change messes with you. I passed out on my friend, Alberto's, couch pretty much as soon as I got there and got showered. At one point one of his roommates walked through the door and I groggily lifted my head, mumbled a hello, and crashed back into my coma. I guess they didn't mind too much. Later on I listened to the neighbor kids outside cuss each other out. But it's so much prettier when they have an English accent. And the kids were running around the neighborhood with camouflage masks over their faces and face automatic weapons pretending to shoot each other. In the states I think they probably would have been arrested playing around like that. But it was pretty funny to watch.
Today I am wondering around Notting Hill. It sounds so cliche, and I couldn't be happier wandering around by myself, staring in all the windows of the little shops around the area, listening to the pretty accents of the people here. I hate the sound of my own voice now. I even love the way people way toilet here. So far the food I've had is complete shit, though. I'm hoping that it's not all so bad.
The woman, Angella, who I am staying with is nice enough, and I have a cute little room to myself. My first job at the work exchange with Angella has been to take all these children's clothes that she has from a clothing store she used to own years ago, and organize them to be sold on E-bay. Not too bad at all. I spent the morning going through kids pyjamas and tracksuits and underwear, writing down sizes and taking pictures of them. Then I set out to explore the area. It's cool outside today and fairly windy. Everyone in the area walks around with their dogs and it reminds me of 101 Dalmations... all the dogs do resemble their owners. And I just got a library card so I could come and use the internet here in a library the size of a small bookstore. Here there are small libraries like this all over the place. And I feel like a dork when I have to ask a dozen questions to understand the system. But when people hear my accent, they must be like, oooooh, I get it!!!