Some · kind · of · superhero

Loving Channel 10 – finally music on a Sunday morning. Rage always did fall short, especially when it was replaced by JTV and we not only had to put up with experimental rap but also some idiot talking in between.
So we’re all going mad for the Black Eyed Peas and Fuzzy and her hopeless counterpart are interviewing two of the four in Paris. We’ve just been treated to a clip of their show and really, as boring as I think their current hit is, it’s made even more mediocre by live performance. How can you have four singers in a band and no musicians? Everyone else has to jig around behind whoever currently has the limelight (not that there was even a lightshow but perhaps this was a more “intimate” show), trying to remember which of the repeated lines is coming up next. Ah, what happened to the music?
So, after being cancelled on by Jack’s friends on Friday (well, who wants to go out in the rain?), we finally shook it up and went to the pub last night, with Taylor’s friends instead (or work colleagues anyway. He’s currently spruiking charity on the streets and door-to-door, which really makes me question the integrity of such organisations – I always believed that those irritating people who try to get your to sign your money away when you’re innocently trying to spend it on yourself were doing it for the good of the children, or whatever, and no personal gain to themselves. Alas, Taylor’s on a salary and a commission, plus he just came back from a week-long, expenses-paid “business” trip to Mount Gambier with a brand new company-funded mobile phone. So how much of my donation is really going to save the gay whales?). The night went as per usual, beginning with drinks at home (it’s okay, I wasn’t alone this time) then a bus ride in, some Hungry Jack’s and then a few vodka and red bulls at the selected pub. And, also becoming usual, the night ended in tears. Perhaps those warnings about mixing alcohol and medications should be heeded. Or perhaps it’s just going to be a little bit longer before I get things worked out (6 years, if Jack’s anything to go by).
Well, I’m stuck for things to do today. One day of weekend without Jack is enough I think. Stupid Banner. Did the mother-duties yesterday, cleaning and shopping and cooking and whatnot (my chicken kievs were pretty impressive, if I do say so myself), so apart from re-cleaning, because it’s impossible to keep this place tidy overnight, I’m at a loss for entertainment. As per usual.

Bored and nostalgic on a Wednesday night, so I decided to look up my livejournal and see if it was still there… and so it was. It’s nice to know I will be kept alive somewhere after I’m gone, even if the comments begin to disappear like fresh flowers on a mossy headstone. Or don’t come at all, which can only be my fault for not telling anyone I died. I mean, blogged.
Despite my constant nagging of Jack to tone down the alcoholism, I’m slowly being seduced myself – tried to play the “centrum” game (or whatever it’s called, you know, one shot every minute for a hundred minutes, although show me someone who’s made it to the last shot, especially on beer) by myself, but only made it to 15 shots before I started to feel a little bit silly (nay, hypocritical) and anyway I would have had to go to the fridge to get another cider. Oh well, 15 minutes less to fill.
I don’t see me making a habit of this again, but I’m sure it’s good therapy, and cheaper than the psychologist type – talking about your anxieties with a total stranger is all very well, but you can’t expect them to be able to assist you much when the number one worry is how you’re going to pay for the session. Or number two I suppose, the whole “life and how to cope with it” usually ranks highest, despite whatever other “triggers” and “negative thoughts” coincide with your hysterics.
It’s kind of nice to be writing without thinking of who might be reading this. I hardly see anybody anymore anyway. Not many opinions matter to me, but then again of course they do and there’s my life-trap. They say you need your friends around to keep you happy, but when you’re not happy enough to find the friends, then it’s a downward spiral isn’t it. It’s hard to care about people when you’re so busy being uninterested.
Getting sick of work too. Not that I wasn’t to begin with, no matter how I defended my decision to spend my time making lunches instead of furthering my education… I do believe this is still the better choice: how many classes would I have missed, or assignments neglected? I’ll pull through if someone’s relying on me, but I’m no good at self-motivation, we all know that. If someone’s paying you to get out of bed and smile at people while you cut their sandwich then it’s “Halves or quarters?” everytime – as temporary an achievement my day’s work may be, at least it subsequently funds my other temporary desires, whims though most may be. I think that house may be a little further off Jack. I don’t see myself as 21-with-a-mortage, and I believe that a second job at Coles as a worthy step closer to our (your?) dream.
Because I still don’t know where I’m meant to be. Sure, sure, they all tell me that they didn’t know either until they were halfway through their own lives, as much good as that does me, or them. No one ever tells me what they did in the 20 years between leaving school (those “best days”, that blessed waste of hours) and getting their ideal job, particularly between 3 and 9 when there’s nothing to do and it’s too early to go to bed. In fact, I remember feeling that way back in school too.
Surely it’s too early in life to be settled into this routine, and these mundane housekeeping jobs that must be done and redone every day, for your own sake. Sure, don’t cook dinner or wash your clothes, but you only doom yourself to starve and wear dirty underwear. It doesn’t matter every now and again.
Then again, it really is too early to accept that this is it, or to naively believe that nothing (including myself) will change. And isn’t that just as worrying?

So I thought I’d start this up again. It’s a good habit to have, because talking to yourself all day in your head can be justified if its in the righteous cause of blogging. Ahh, where have all the bloggers gone? I think they all turned political and now edit the Herald Sun. These days the kids are busy making myspaces and livespaces, and other decorative pages of blatant vanity… Those kids still on the internet anyway; I heard us youth are out doing drugs and having sex these days. Whoop, this site’s just gone up to M15+, and about time too.
No, not really. You know what I’m here for. Bit of moaning, some fairly detailed descriptions of my uneventful days, and maybe some philosophical insight, if you’re lucky. I’ll try not to write too much about how I “went out last night and got totally wasted like every other Saturday and man I love it” because I would only be betraying my own morals and probably being a tiny bit hypocritical. Which is why I just can’t finish signing up for a myspace… There’s still some special person out there I’m looking to impress by being, or at least pretending to be, all the things I want them to be.
Wow, I forgot how good this feels!
Anyhow, this one should probably be short, just a quick note to bring you up to speed. Although it could be a while before anyone finds me again! But in the 8-odd months (well, they weren’t that odd really, fairly mundane) since I last wrote, I’ve been, well, working really. Still at the pub, although I have progressed from dish-pig to assistant cook to self-proclaimed Head Chef. I do miss the old days though.
Ever keen on making money, I spent 3 months at K-mart saying “Sound and Vision, Anne speaking, can I put you on hold a moment please?” a million times a day, usually followed by “Sorry, we were only sent 5 of these cameras and I sold the last one 15 minutes after we opened at 8 and yes I’d very much love you to complain to a manager about the situation because maybe someone might send us a few more of everything next time!”. A customer complained about me one day actually, because she’d called from Target to see if we had some random Nintendo game and I’d said yes (although I’m sure it was only “I think so…”), and she’d driven “all the way” out to us “and with the price of petrol these days” (which I agree is very expensive – I remember, back in 1997, when we were about to embark on our Nullarbor crossing, and we were most disgusted at the extravagant and obviously monopolised prices of $1.07 and $1.06 a litre at the last two petrol stations for 200k. My, how times have changed. And Mars Bars used to be a dollar!), and then we didn’t have it rah rah rah. “Sorry.” “No you’re not!” “Well, ok then. It’s time for me to knock off anyway. They don’t pay me enough to care and you’ll make a lovely anecdote for months to come.”
January came around and we jetted off to New Zealand for 3 weeks on a little family holiday, which gave me a fine excuse to quit Krap-Mart and advance through the shiny red doors of The Reject Shop, Centro Mildura. Right where I belong hey. Although I have been told on no less than 3 occasions and by 3 different persons, in these exact words, in reference to how high above such menial employment I am: “What are you doing here??” Making money, mon cherie.
Which brings me to my next point, and perhaps half the reason of beginning this blog again (apart from the fact that I have no one to ramble on to and I needed an outlet). I heading off to America in June to work at a summer camp. Yes, yes I hear your cries: “America!? Kids?! You??” That’s something I’ll just have to work on. Hey, I learned to love beer.

And not quite a page. Don’t get used to it.

26-06
Off to the train station at 10am, to farewell Michael and Daniel who were going Home (Ilse was catching the train at Århus). Daniel’s family got a bit teary as the train came and they said their final goodbyes, and April felt a little despressed from it all so we (and Mariana) went and consoled ourselves with hot chocolate at Ba Vinci. The rain didn’t help, although it did make me appreciate having the great weather in Copenhagen over the weekend. They told me all the naughty things the exchangies got up to at their weeklong conference in Copenhagen, which had happened the week after I got back from Paris (we hadn’t see each other for quite a while so they had lots of goss to catch me up on, even if I didn’t want to hear half of it). We moved onto the Sandwich Café for their famous chicken and bacon flutes, then was convinced to follow them shopping and eventually wound up in the library again. Was left on the computers there and the girls went to catch their buses, and I saw Lennie from school who stopped for a quick chat and hoped I was going to Mariana’s going away party (which would be after I had already left, but I’m sure the thought counts!)
The evening’s entertainment was a trip to the local cinema (Randers Grand Theatre) to see The Da Vinci Code with Charlotte, Annie and her boyfriend and Nicolas (who was invited as chauffeur I’d say). I think it was a four-screen cinema, although the one we were in was fairly small, and grey, old-style architecture which was missing some charm. The seats were numbered too, and not quite raised enough so it would be hard to rely on reading the subtitles to follow when some guy’s fat head was obstructing most of them. Annie had packed popcorn (in a garbage bag, amusingly) and chocolate bars, although this wasn’t allowed but no one checked. The movie, expectedly, wasn’t great, in my and Nicolas’s opinion anyway, but Annie and Lotte loved it so they raved the whole way home, between bursts of craziness from Annie who’d had a little too much sugar I think…
27-06
Up to catch the train at 11 to a little town called Hviding, where two of my new Australian friends, courtesy of the Paris trip, were living for the year. Accidentally seated myself in the smoking wagon for the first hour of the trip, so was surrounded by cigarettes the whole time and mentally clawing at the window but arrived without dying of lung cancer so that was okay. At my changeover stop, Århus, I got out and wandered up and down the train station looking for a timetable to find my next platform, and got there within minutes of departure, which I patted myself on the back for. The conductor didn’t say anything when I showed her my ticket, so I assumed I had got on the right train anyway, although I did get a bit worried that it wouldn’t go all the way to my next changeover. But I successfully made it to Bramming where I waited fifteen minutes and ate the rest of my chocolate biscuits from Copenhagen (I had two packets) and then caught another train into Hviding where I was met by Katherine and Rebecca (the latter now off her crutches, to everyone’s relief, not least Katherine’s). We cycled (I walked) to their local store and bought soft drink and Maltesers before heading off to Bec’s house to meet her folks, drink my first coffee (I couldn’t say no, I’m hopeless), and covet her large bedroom. Next to Katherine’s house, where I would be staying, and she gave me a tour of their pig sties and whatnot, and we played with her new kittens. Then the three of us made spaghetti and sauce for dinner (ok, so it was mostly Bec, but it sounds like that happens often) which we ate with Katherine’s host parents, Ove and Karen. Her host-dad didn’t speak much English, so it was certainly a work-out for my Danish skills! Bec left us after dinner, and we watched TV before going to bed, on the mattress in Katherine’s room.
28-06
Got up before 10 and had Vegemite on toast for breakfast, made over their horizontal griller of course, not a proper toaster! Then Katherine and I (Bec was working down at the kindergarten) rode the 7-odd kms into Ribe, the nearest town and also one of the oldest in Denmark. First we dropped our bikes off at her school, which was quite enchanting, at least from the outside, and then walked to and up the Domkirke (a church with a tower-view of the surrounding countryside). After some tourist shots and a puffy walk back down (“it’s a lot quicker without Bec on crutches,” remarked Katherine), we headed into the main street of town where the flea market was happening, although it was pretty small and mainly old bottle openers and hand-knitted tea-cosies. Katherine then went and bought some jeans from one of the same shops we had in Randers, and then we had chicken and bacon flutes from the milkbar (seem to be a popular Danish lunch) and went to the library to get a cocktail recipe book and quickly check our email. Next to the Viking Museum, because Katherine couldn’t get Bec to go with her and I was willing (although she should have warned me we would be riding on the road to get there, she was a little worried about me when I kept falling over before I’d ever got the bike started, and then I wasn’t sure if the cars were going to wait for me when we got to the round-a-bout…). We wandered through the displays for a while, tried on the chain mail and tried to translate the Danish descriptions of old rocks, before riding back home (I’m jealous of their flat bike tracks, maybe I would have ridden more here! Actually, Katherine’s host dad played a part in getting Bec a family in Hviding and my photo had been put up in the supermarket on the same poster, so I could have been there too!). Bec met us there and sent us back out for chips and juice from the supermarket, where the checkout boy spoke to us in German because he thought he was being helpful… maybe we looked German? Anyhow, the cocktail book proved unneeded as we just played a shots game that Bec had learnt here, until dinner was ready (that sounds pretty bad!). We were all pretty talkative at dinner of course, but I did manage to earn a “you speak good Danish” compliment from Katherine’s host-folks, which impressed me because I don’t get to speak it very often, mainly due to my own laziness and, perhaps to a certain extent, stubbornness. After dinner Karen decided we should go out and follow the town’s nightwatchman on his historical rounds of the town, singing the old songs and stopping at certain points to give us information. At first he was speaking Danish, and then considerately asked if there was any other languages spoken amongst the group. Strangely though, he asked this in Danish so and foreigners wouldn’t have even understood that; I certainly didn’t so it was lucky Katherine was paying attention! The English repetition of the information he had just relayed to our Danish-speaking counterparts was directed at the four of us, so we really had a private tour (although that meant we had to laugh politely at the jokes). Later on Karen struck up a conversation with a couple from England, who were tripping around Europe, so she took us all out to see the statue of some queen and told us her story along the way, and then helped them plan their last couple of days in Denmark, in the kind of way that is really appreciated at the start but then gets all a bit much and you pretend you’re interested and remembering but really you’re just going to get in the car and go wherever it was you had planned to be going 20 minutes ago. We tried to convince her to give up her nursing job and go into tourist information and travel consulting anyway.
After a detour to the beach to see the sunset (Katherine reckoned it was a ploy to reduce our drinking time, as her family are Mormons and not too keen on the booze, making them rather special Danes!) we decided we were all desperately in need of a toilet and managed to get home, where we socialised for moment before going back up to finish our shots game. Then it was downstairs for bread rolls and slice (only the end bit which we had convinced Karen to make without marzipan, something we all hated passionately but Karen could eat from the tube) and a bit of MTV before we gave up and just went to bed.
29-06
Got up at 8:30 and packed our gear into the car, for a trip to Århus to see the host-sister and do some shopping. I was actually invited by Katherine’s host-mum to join, but she and Bec didn’t kick up a few so I scored an extra day away, which was nice. We arrived in Århus at 10 and hit the shops straight away, leaving Karen with Camilla to buy a sofa for the latter’s flat. The mall was nice but there was a disappointing lack of variety in the shops, every one of them stocking the same three brands and there even being four H&Ms in the vicinity (three of which we went into). I didn’t buy anything (except shoelaces for Kate and a smoothies recipe book for her and Mum to share which I had dragged Nicolas into a shop in Copenhagen to find, but they didn’t have) but the other two managed to find quite a few things to put on the family credit card.
After six hours of shops we still had an hour to kill before being picked up so we checked to see if there was anything showing at the cinema and, when there wasn’t, browsed a couple more shops (including a role play costume shop with plenty of rubber ears and foam swords and happy geeks painting Lord Of The Rings figurines), bought a Coke from the supermarket and sat on the train station steps accessing the fashions of Denmark. Eventually our ride came and we went to Camilla’s presentment then up to buy ingredients for dinner. Us three girls were in charge again, and Bec didn’t want to come down to the supermarket with us so Katherine and I, as the non-cooks, did our best to get the right things although, after plenty of tough decisions, we ended up with turkey instead of chicken, green capsicum instead of red, the wrong onion and a jar of Indian sauce to pour over the top. It tasted good though! Bec threatened not to cook if we didn’t get celery, which Katherine hated and refused to buy so we didn’t and Bec couldn’t help herself and took control. Saved us some headache I guess!
After dinner Camilla was off somewhere for the weekend so was dropped at the train station, and we all squished onto the couch to watch one of her DVDs and ate ice-cream and biscuits before it was time to work out how to flatten out the futon and kick Katherine and Karen off onto the blow-up mattress for an uncomfortable night’s sleep.
30-06
Up at 9:30 for a bacon and eggs breakfast, and chocolate on bread of course! Off to Den Gamle By (The Old City), which was an “open-air museum” filled with old houses from all over Denmark, picked up and rebuilt in one area with actors placed throughout, dressed in old-fashioned clothes and having the same conversations about how someone stole the town criers trousers and all he had left was the ones he was wearing. In the first house we went into there were two people who talked a bit to Karen, and when we understood too they were very surprised that we weren’t from Denmark. When we said where we were from, they told us that Mary had sat on that very couch, so Bec got a photo on it too…
We wandered around the town for a while, and Bec and Karen went on a little boat across the river, which you basically just pulled yourself to one side and then back, but it was free at least. Then Bec and I went on a horse and carriage ride around the adjacent botanical gardens, feeling like royalty waving at the sunbaking Danes. Had a chat with the driver too, who was surprised when we started speaking English, after ordering the ride in Danish, and wanted to know where we were from and what we were doing here.
For a late lunch we found a buffet pizza and salad bar in the mall then dragged Karen around the shops for a bit before it was time to drop me off at the train station (or rather “make me walk to”) where I caught the train at 5:15 straight to Randers. Once there I didn’t feel like going back home quite yet, so I bought some McDonalds and sat by the river for the last time. Even had that chocolate muffin I had been eyeing off for months (well, hopefully it wasn’t the same one), ignoring how many calories the diet information sheet said it had (it was lots. That’s why I put on two more kilos in the last week, that and Mars Bars for breakfast). Two hours later and I headed home, where nothing was happening so I unpacked (finding Katherine’s bike key in the process, which I had to post back), watched TV and went to bed.
01-07
Birgitte got me up at 8:30 to go out weeding the cornfields with her and the kids. After working out which bits belonged to us, I was partnered with Annie and together we walked up and down every flatted path through the waist-high corn, searching for a weed I’d never seen before and probably wouldn’t recognise. The only clues I had to go on was that they were taller than the rest (maybe, some of them were shorter and those ones we’d have to come back for in the coming weeks when they’d become visible) and had “sort of bells” on them… otherwise they were pretty much identical to the other acres and acres of plants before me.
After an hour and a half of pushing through the wet undergrowth, which was all very nice compared to the blazing sun expect my shoes were soaking and my legs were scratched and bleeding, we had still found nothing (I had found a few things actually, but they weren’t the right ones) until we fought our way around the perimeters and found whole plantations of these vicious weeds. No, I wouldn’t have recognised them, and yes, they did look just like all the good plants. I pulled out which I thought was safe and chucked it in Annie’s slowly-filling garbage bag, to be destroyed by burning.
3 hours later we were allowed to go back home, where we had lunch and no ice-cream because Charlotte and Birgitte had a little spat in the car so we all missed out.
Escaped to pack my suitcase, talked to Mum and Dad on the phone and come 4pm began to get ready to go out to Gammel Estrup Rock – a rock concert at the castle down the street (which I hadn’t been to of course). It turned out to be more rock and roll, with mostly adults getting drunk, but it was still good. Nicolas and I took the opportunity of free entry to look in the agricultural museum there (plenty of tractors to impress him) and the castle itself. It was better than the Rosenburg in terms of light and space, but still pretty plain. Nevertheless it was obviously worth protecting, as one room Nicolas and I stepped into caused the alarm to go off, ear-piercingly, so we quickly ran and hid but no one came to arrest us.
Back out on the grounds the rock played on, we drank beer (well, one. Annie reckoned she had three), and all got progressively colder (particularly me in shorts, as recommended). For dinner we went out to the car and ate sandwiches out of the boot, because you weren’t allowed to take food or drink in and we were obviously too stingy to buy it in there, although we did get a plate of hot chips afterwards. As the night wore on the bands began to sing Danish songs too, and the drunken crowd sang along of course (how did they understand the words, let alone know them!) By 11pm the ladies were picking up rubbish and the people were folding up their chairs and picnic rugs, so we followed too, which my frozen legs were certainly thankful for.
02-07
Was put to work with Birgitte, Annie and Nicolas pruning the hedge around the garden, which hadn’t been done for two years so it was pretty drastic. More bleeding legs. Took us over 3 hours, with a chocolate biscuit and saftevand (sort of like cordial) break in between for Birgitte and Annie to lecture us on good food in schools.
At 3pm us kids went to the beach, about fifteen minutes from we were lived. Funny thought hey, beach in Denmark… First we stopped at the Super Brusgen and bought meat and drinks and a little $5 aluminium “grill” which had coals to light and leave, then cook your dinner over. We found our way out to the beach eventually, thanks to Charlotte’s hesitant instructions, and there we joined many other Danes in enjoying the sunshine, the tiny beach and the shallow water. And the clear jellyfish which kids were all too eager to pick up and play with (I told Annie not even to think about doing such a thing in Australia!). I only ventured knee-deep into the water with Charlotes (I’d already sent my bathers home because they didn’t fit, but it was still too cold anyway), but Nicolas went out for a proper soak even if he did have to go a long way out to be even waist-height.
At 5:30 Annie decided it was time to start dinner, which I wasn’t complaining about because I was starving, but Nicolas was appalled at, usually dining after 7:30. But it took us a while to set up the table, fit all the meat onto the grill and then serve each sausage, chicken breast or bread roll as it was cooked, but it tasted ok (even the bit that fell onto the grass…)
03-07
Up at 9:15 with hopes of going in to town to wrap up all my loose ends, such as returning library books, closing bank accounts, farewelling friends etc. After I’d had a shower, finished off the last of my peanut butter and even got Jens to speak English to me (he answered the telephone and the person was English, but Jens didn’t know what to do and so he hung up and said to me carefully, “Someone speaking English…” “Ok…” We’re really getting somewhere with this…!) it turned out I was expected to go and help weed the cornfields again, but by the time I’d changed my shirt and shoes, and Charlotte had got out of bed, Annie was finished so I changed back and continued with my original plans.
First to the post office to send Katherine’s key back, but it was too full and even with a take-a-number system you’re in line for the best part of an hour. Went to the bank instead and got my card cut in half, and I wasn’t quick enough to ask if I could keep one bit for the scrap book. She wasn’t very nice anyway. Then to the DVD shop to buy Muriel’s Wedding for Birgitte (she always raved about it), then H&M for some braces for Kate, the library to return my book and the last of the CDs I didn’t get a chance to burn. Then I went to the bus terminal to meet Mariana, April and a friend of hers on exchange in Germany and I made them help me buy a thank-you present for the Bay-Smidts, before deciding it was time to have our last beer down the river together. We couldn’t get a 6-pack because then two people would miss out on a second, so we got two 6-packs and calculated three beers each instead. After consuming these on the grass by the river (although the other girls only had two, and decided to save their third for later!), chasing the shade around because it was quite warm, we headed to McDonalds for our last Daim McFlurry (is anyone else amazed that I put on 2kg in the last week?). The Michelle, who had been at the Roskilde festival but couldn’t really tell me which bands she’d seen only how much beer they’d drunk, came to say goodbye to me and then it was time to hug the others too and catch my bus back.
When home, Birgitte took me up to the Assentoft post office to weigh my suitcase, but the scales were broken so I took the opportunity to send the key (packaged in a bubble wrap envelope, on the advice of Birgitte). Whilst waiting in line, a friend of Birgitte’s had a chat to me about Australia, and asked the typical “did you go see Mary?” and “do you cook your eggs like the Crocodile Hunter?” questions. I answered yes to the last one, even though I have no idea how he does them. I did say that even though some drank like ol’ Paul Hogan, we didn’t drink as much beer as the Danes.
Next to the supermarket where I bought put-on chocolate for the Aussies back home to sample, then home to vacuum my room and welcome Mormor and Morfar who came for dinner to say goodbye, which was sweet (although I wasn’t told they were coming, and of course was excluded from the Danish conversation often). When they all went off for a tour of the gardens, Nicolas messaged me and invited to me to go “drink your last glassses with me”, so I went down and had a white wine with strawberry syrup to get rid of the taste (I thought it was ok, but Nicolas’s palette must be a little more refined). Knud came down and was offered one too, but then Birgitte came to tell us it was time for dessert: home-grown strawberries with cream and some kind of milk (they have a million different types, something I haven’t yet grasped).
Gave the present, which now included two wine glasses (to replace the one I broke), and two little candle holders, and it was well received. Then “farvel”s to grandparents and “adieu” to Nicolas, with even a peck on each cheek (I was going to say a French kiss but that’s not quite right…), and a hug goodbye (or “vi ses” – “see you”) from Jens who wasn’t going to get up at 5 the next morning just for me, and off to my last night in my Danish bed, with no sheet and a square pillow that needed fluffing every morning.
04,05,06-07
Up at 4:30am, into the shower and a quick breakfast. The girls got up too but only to say goodbye at the door, before probably going back to bed. Charlotte seemed to be getting a bit teary, and Annie spoke Danish til the end, but nothing too dramatic
Then into the car, Birgitte even giving me the front seat, and off for the forty minute drive, the silence only broke when Birgitte asked if Jesper had said goodbye. He hadn’t, and it hadn’t even occurred to me, so that’s how much I appreciated his guidance and support…
Once at the airport we parked almost where they had that first day here, and we dragged my 20.6kg suitcase to the scales and also checked to see how much heavier my hand luggage was with the four apple juices Brigitte thought I might need (and it was quite a bit). Checked in, said goodbye and thankyou and all that, made it past security, followed the herd through the passport check and onto the plane (grabbing a free paper and a bread roll with too much butter on the way). I found the right seat, although the people around me did a lot of apologising and swapping with each other. But I thought that was quite impressive considering the dramas I had on the way over!
At the Copenhagen airport I had a look around the shops then went to meet the others flying back home: Kristen, Brendan, Erin and her mum (who had been travelling together the last couple of weeks), and Danielle (who was the only one who’d lived in Sweden). Also got to meet Marianne at last, the one who had called me up over the PA and got me all worried. She liked the joke as much as the rest of us though, including how I kept being left behind in Paris. Not my fault!
After checking in, we went through security and the guard asked me to open my bag and started taking everything out of it, squeezing my presents and opening all my boxes! He ran it through the x-ray machine again and conferred with his colleague and came to tell me “you’re not getting on this plane”. Yes, I did quite freak out. “Why not?” “Because of your luggage.” “What’s wrong with it?” As serious as ever: “Nothing, I was just joking.” What a prat! Here’s me wondering how I’m ever going to get home now, and hoping Marianne hadn’t left already because I didn’t have phone or anything, and he’s just messing with me! I asked him what he was looking for, and he said he didn’t know, but assured me that he definitely wasn’t just bored. Shaken but amused, filing this one away with all my other transport-related stories, I followed my friends into the departure lounge, where they tried to go on the wireless Internet and I ate a bit of the cheesecake that Charlotte had made the day before and Birgitte had packed for me (which was why my hang luggage was 8kg, but it never actually got weighed).
After a twelve hour flight with not much on TV and a talkative Danish/American guy sitting next to me who kept cracking unfunny jokes, and we arrived in Singapore, 5:30am their time. Did the chocolate shops over, changed my kroner to dollars (felt like I had some real money at last!) and went with Brendan to buy some stamps for his collection (and he remembered the woman serving from last time, and they had a nice chat), then we went and curled up in some seats and tried to sleep. At about 9am everyone else went to catch their planes into Melbourne or Brisbane, and I was left to wait another fifteen hours for my plane to Adelaide. I found a free cinema and had a little a nap beside another snoring man. Two hours of broken sleep and some random movie later, I went on the free internet (which kept kicking me off every fifteen minutes but I’d just go back on), and had Burger King for lunch (quick but not particularly nice). Whilst wandering around the chocolate shops again (where I bought a Dr Who bottle of water – nothing to with the TV series that was just the brand) I found some brochures with tips on what to do if you were stuck in the airport for one, two or “over five” hours (eighteen wasn’t mentioned). I found a free bus tour that would go out to the centre of the city where we would swap to a small boat and go up the river, and then come back again. I went and signed up my name, put my bag in the lockers and joined the group. They were mainly Indian-looking people, but there were three other Aussies, and I’d picked them all out (more had begun to appear around the airport and it was funny to hear my accent when walking past random groups). We piled onto two buses and got a running commentary on the twenty minute drive down to the main river, which flowed through the skyscrapers and out into the sea. The “colonial tour” was so-named because it focused on the “blending of old and new” that Singapore is apparently famous for, and this was evident in the line of tiny original houses, now chic restaurants, pressed up against Hitachi and SingTel enterprises. We were divided into the waiting wooden boats, all with electric motors of course, and taken up and down the river, with an amicable American narrating the journey from our captain’s tape-deck (complete with back-up orchestra and whirling rewind). Twenty minutes later, and lots of photos because hey I may as I well fill up my memory card, and it was onto the bus again and all too soon we were handed out our passports and free to go back to the cinema for another nap (either that or to watch a dodgy movie about a guy being attacked by the bogey monster).
Finally it was time to board so I lugged by stuff up to gate 47 where I finally learnt what weapons were concealed in my bag – my thinning scissors and my host-family’s present to Dad, a bottle opener. I had no idea that was in there until they made me unwrap it and then took it off me! Goes to show the difference in security procedures depending on where you fly: Århus didn’t notice, Copenhagen didn’t worry and Singapore got very upset. Plus on the plane, when we had been eating with real knives flying into Singapore, the Australian government had requested that we be given plastic ones on the way there. So rest easy Aussies, no pilots arriving in our country will be held hostage by cutlery (although those forks were pretty sharp…)
Landed in Aussieland, and prepared to wait in the one line for passport check, with many of my kin whinging about how dodgy the Adelaide airport was. I was more disappointed that the girl didn’t even say “G’day” when I presented my passport to her. Collected my weapons and suitcase (which took ages to come through, filling me with anxiety), admitted to carrying chocolate into the country and it was time for my big entrance. We were let out into the Arrivals lounge one at a time after passing through customs, so the moment was all mine. I turned the corner and spotted Mum instantly, yelling and waving with Dad, Kate, Tammy, Tamika and Claire. Dad was holding up a big canvas sign saying “Welcome Home Anneofsmeg” (because a bit of laminated paper just wouldn’t do in my family) and Kate had my teddy as requested. It took me a moment to realise, though, that they weren’t shouting excitement to see me, but rather instructions to “go back, go back!” Confused, and glancing at the other amused people waiting, I retreated and waited for their signal (a renewed roar and waving of Australian flags and caps) to come out again, to find Emily now standing with them, having just come from the toilet. Typically, she decided she couldn’t hold on any longer and had missed the pivotal moment!
Anyhow, there was much joy and many hugs and then it was back to aunty Sue’s for further reunions and the unwrapping of all the food I had missed in Denmark and ordered to have waiting on my return. Eventually thing settled down again; the girls left and the older (or heavily pregnant) members of my family went for naps while mum went shopping for dinner. I focused my energy on eating as many different junk foods as I could before my diet started on Monday, and checked the TV guide with joy to see that Doctor Who premiered that very weekend (someone at the ABC must have been looking after me!). And suddenly it was like I’d never left.

In the following two weeks I went out “clubbing” with my mates in Adelaide for the first time (doing handstands in Rundle Mall and talking to everyone in the toilets just because now I could!), came Home (which, at first, seemed inexplicably smaller than when I’d left, but gradually grew to fit me again. It also didn’t have a bathroom because our renovations had finally begun, so I had to shower outside like a camper, or at friends’ houses), got a job (at the local pub, working evenings in the kitchen with an Irish chef and plenty of other backpackers to make it feel exotic), started my diet (excludes beer, which it appears I have developed a taste for), took up at seven-day gym membership (and went four days), and just generally caught up with everyone (i.e. more clubbing, and a trip down to “Fort Courage” caravan park in Wentworth, where we drank too much vodka and ran down a kangaroo, although that was before the vodka). Now everyone’s back at uni and it’s time to pay back that $3000 debt! And start saving for the next endeavour!


25 Tips For Aussies Going To Denmark
1. Don’t
Ok so that’s not quite a page in the Reader’s Digest, even if their pages are slightly below average size. I’ll try again:
1. Always say “tak for mal” – thanks for the food – after a meal, even if you don’t mean it and they don’t seem to hear you
2. If a Dane gasps when you are telling them a story, it is just a sign of interest, not shock. Don’t make it too interesting or they might hyperventilate
3. Always have a full glass when at the dinner table, in case someone says “skål!” and you have join the toast
4. Know the distance from your town to Sydney, because that’s the only city anyone knows
5. The shops open late and shut early. Don’t even bother on a Sunday (not that they’re at church or anything)
6. Say you don’t like marzipan. You won’t get so much dessert but you won’t have try to conceal that strange contorting your face does with every bite of those perfectly innocent-looking pastries
7. Practice opening bottles before leaving, as most drinks are sold in this manner and you will look a twat if you can’t use a bottle opener. For bonus points, use a cigarette lighter or the edge of the table
8. Watch how the food is prepared. This will make you less likely to have seconds and get fat
9. Take sandals but not shorts. You’ll need both, but the shorts aren’t going to fit you by the time it’s hot enough
10. The tomato sauce they offer you with McDonald’s fries costs you extra
11. Join the library. Just because everyone has their own computer doesn’t mean you’ll be allowed to use it. Although you will need to find somewhere to burn all those CDs
12. Small, tubular pencil cases are the norm. Your big wetsuit Roxy that fits your school diary, calculator, a small novel and four sets of pencils one will be picked on
13. Tell strangers you don’t speak Danish if they start to talk to you, otherwise you could get stuck in a conversation and hope that smiling and nodding is the right answer
14. They shower together. And you can get at least three in a toilet. Deal with it however you can.
15. If you still have trouble translating numbers, look at the cash register display when making a purchase. This saves handing over the notes one by one until you’ve given the cashier the right amount
16. At the first sign of summer make sure you have shorts, your shirt off, the windows open, and are always carrying an ice-cream. We may as well make the best of it
17. The escalators match the roads. Don’t go to the one on the left if you want to go up.
18. Don’t wear canvas shoes after it’s been raining unless you have a spare pair of socks
19. The Danes don’t understand bowls. The direct translation is actually a “deep plate”. Bowls are for cornflakes and soup and that’s all. And for putting over your spaghetti when you microwave it
20. Everyone shakes hands as a greeting, although not hard enough to seem like they mean it. If you see them again you might get a hug, but only if you’re lucky
21. Pedestrians do not always have right of way, even on a zebra crossing. Check for a button to push, or just always look before you cross (both ways, because the car will probably come from the direction you’re not expecting)
22. English swear words are acceptable, in school plays, Pepsi ads and in front of your grandparents. No one will even blink if you use the f-word as a verb at the dinner table. Except me of course
23. A French hot dog is just a sausage in bread. Otherwise you get the bread on a plate next to the sausage. But it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with France
24. There is no word for “please”. The equivalent is “I beg you” but generally when asking for something, Danes just say thank you and assume they’re going to get what they wanted
25. Say dinner, not tea. Otherwise they will think you want you friends over to drink Lipton and eat scones

Bonus!
The Danish "Incy Wincy Spider"
Lille Peter edderkop kravled op af muren - - - Little Peter Spider crawled up the wall
Så kom regnen og skyllede Peter ned - - - Then came the rain and washed Peter down
Så kom solen og tørrede Peters krop - - - Then came the sun and dried Peter’s body
Lille Peter edderkop kravled atter op - - - Little Peter Spider crawled back up

19-06
Up at 10 to find Annie leaving to stay in the summer house, so I took the opportunity to use her computer to burn CDs and blog, then went to town at 2:45 to go on the Internet at the library (because it wouldn’t do to be found at still at home on the computer). Met the Spanish girl we had given a tour to the week before, which meant she’d understood us enough to be able to find her away around. Also saw Daniel on the bus as I was arriving and he was leaving, which was funny to look out my window and see him waving through his! Goes to show what exciting lives we have maybe, just riding in and out of town on the buses to fill in the time.
To the post office next to buy a box to send some of my stuff back to Australia in (after some initial confusion as the woman didn’t understand that I had to take it back to fill it up first before I was ready to weigh and send it), seeing Ida and her boyfriend on the way. Once home I rolled all my old clothes up (old as in they didn’t fit anymore, but having them would give me an incentive to lose weight, plus I can’t be guaranteed to find another good pair of jeans) and squished them into the box around my numerous DVD and CD purchases (although I still have another kilo of burnt CDs to add). Easily made it to 10kg, which would cost me more than $100 to send. Such is life.
Had pasta salad again for dinner, this time with some Greek yoghurt and cucumber dressing – something I never would have touched even a year ago. Am I growing up? We can only hope.
Watched the Simpsons for a while (it would seem that such marathons are not unique to Channel 10), first with Danish subtitles and then with Swedish on the international channel, which was quite similar. Then stumbled across Blackpool on the BBC Prime channel, which really made my day. It’s the little things that keep me happy. TV, for example.
20-06
Did some research on Australia for Nicolas, who always asks me tricky questions, like “How tall is your highest mountain?” (Mount Kosciusko is 2228m), “What’s the population of Sydney?” (roughly 4 mill), “What are your major agricultural products?” (cattle, then wheat) and “Is it hard to get a job?” (never really tried, but unemployment was at 5.3% percent in January 2006). Apparently I’m un-Australian for not knowing! And yes, he could tell me all these things about France if I asked. Oh well, we both learnt something!
Took coffee out to him, Knud and another bloke working to build a new barn for the farm, and sat with them on the bricks and they drank it. Poor Nicolas has got it rough, because they don’t speak English to him whilst they are working, so he is very bored and has no opportunity to improve, which is one reason he came. They speak Danish to him sometimes, of course, but learning that’s pretty much on the bottom of this to-do list. He did say “tak for coffee” though, even if it was meant to be “tak for kaffe”. The other two didn’t say it.
Off to language school, and on the computers the whole time but someone had got rid of Messenger so I couldn’t bludge. The programs I did were too easy, but I didn’t mind because I can’t really be bothered learning anything more with 2 weeks to go. Then again, I had trouble being motivated when it was still 6 months to go! Take heed, those who want to exchange to a forgein-language country: 6 months is not enough unless you’re really gonna try. But I’m still glad I didn’t come for 12…
21-06
Rode to school with Jens at 8:30 (got off and walked some of it of course, I’m only human!) to speak to his class. I arrived (a little shagged out, yes) before the teacher, so had to stand there by myself for 15 minutes, and was even harressed by these 10-year-olds wanting to know “who are you” “what are you doing here?” I don’t remember being that cheeky! (and brave!). I let Jens explain. The teacher appeared and I sat through two oral presentations before it was my turn to talk. It was a little bit harder than the last time I had been here, as the kids had only been doing English for a couple of years and so probably didn’t understand everything I was saying: they asked their questions in Danish too, and I ended up mostly just talking to their teacher. But they did want to know about our animals (yes we have sharks, and spiders, and snakes… really sold it to them…) and what sports we played (had to demonstrate cricket, netball, football and basketball – which I accidentally pronounced base-ketball first).
After half an hour or so, the teacher realised the kids were getting bored and weren’t going to ask any more questions she let them get on with cleaning out the room, as it was the last week of school, and I grabbed the chance to ride home by myself, without the pressure of keeping up with fit little Jens. Spun out on the dirt road once when trying to cross to the side I thought I had to be on when a van was driving towards me, and thought it was wiser not to attempt to remount until he had passed.
At home I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, despite the rainy “summer” weather, and went on the computer again, talked to Bille who told me they’d just finished their last exam (so now I didn’t have to feel guilty about sitting home doing nothing. It was their oral English exam, and she got the second highest mark in class, thanking me for all the practice I gave her. Nice to know I was good for something!), had left-over turkey on bread for lunch, broke a glass whilst emptying the dishwasher, read, watched TV, probably had dinner sometime in there, and went to bed…
22-06
To Kvickly with Birgitte to return a few tubs of bottle from Annie’s party (20c a bottle, or so, redeemable at the checkout), and to buy ice-creams and whatnot for the end-of-year party Charlotte was holding that evening. Then to Assentoft post office to send my box home, and to collect the truckload of chicken, frikadeller, salad and bread prepared by the butcher who apparently did a bit of catering on the side.
Was told off for spending too much time on the computer at home, and sent to cook chicken nuggets and pasta for Jens, Annie and myself, as we were not invited to the party. Off to language school at 6, passed on the driveway by all the arriving guests (hoping I was walking on the right side of the road, and nodding courteously to the drivers). When I got home again at 10:30, the parents had all left, and our lawn was covered with intoxicated 15-year-olds, and the typical Danish dance tracks were pumping out of the borrowed speakers in the garage. Knud and Birgitte were sitting in the dining room with two other parents, so I went back out and talked to Nicolas, who invited me in for a drink. He hadn’t actually been told there was going to be a party on, which was a little rude as the garage was adjacent to his room and the kids were constantly staggering in to use his bathroom and fill their water bottles. I knew some of them from dance, and they said hi, and some other strangers came over to us for a chat, in both Danish and English, and to tell us how drunk they were. Yes, we can tell by the way you are lying on the floor, and pulling yourself up with the table. One boy kept saying how he was “so grounded”, but it didn’t stop him from going out for another beer. So that was entertaining.
The party finished at 12, and slowly the garage emptied as kids found their shoes and their parents, and went home to bed. I left Nicolas with his dirty bathroom, taking his washing to do because his machine had been relocated to make room for dancing and if he didn’t have any clean clothes he wasn’t going to come to Copenhagen with me on the weekend. So put them in our machine and fell straight to sleep, one because I was really tired but also because I’d had two glasses of champagne with some kind of strawberry cordial and that was enough to put me out for the night.
23-06
Did Nicolas’s ironing (Birgitte had moved the clothes from the washing machine to the dryer when she had left for work in the morning, who knows what she thought), although I wasn’t very good at it and had to do one shirt twice. Came upstairs once to find Knud having lunch with a couple of foreign men who were very confused by his explanation of my presence (“So she’s not your daughter? Australian? What is she doing here?!).
When Birgitte came home I was sitting in my room waiting for Nicolas to finish work so we could go catch the train, and she seemed quite irritated that I didn’t know when we were leaving. I found out later that she went doing and gave Knud an ear-full for not telling Nicolas to stop work at 2, like he had suggested was possible to me a couple of nights before but obviously never mentioned to Nicolas, but then they were tying up some loose ends on a machine-sale to France so it was fair enough. We got to the train at 4 anyway, which meant we were in Copenhagen at 8:30-ish and it was still light enough to find our way around, as it was apparently the longest day of the year (15 hours or so of sunshine, although it didn’t seem as light as I expected). The train ride was particularly boring, as Nicolas mostly slept and I just listened to my iPod, and the most exciting thing that happened was when the conductor wasn’t very happy because Nicolas had accidentally got a discounted ticket without owning a Wild Card, because he’d just asked for “the same” as me. We got away with it though, and he saved a few kroner. Oh and the woman with the food trolley told me off for having my shoes on the seat opposite, but on her way back past she opened a free magazine and put it down for me and said “now you can”. Clever…
We found and checked into our hostel, which was located 20 minutes or so out of town and accessible by Metro then a 500m walk up a quiet highway, and inhabited by youth and families alike. It was about $25 each for our two-bed room, but then we also had to pay to get into the system because we didn’t have an “International Hostel card”, so that was another $7, plus then sheet rental for $17 and $2 for a towel (I’d brought one, and Nicolas found that he had two but only after he’d paid to borrow one). We went in and made our beds (Nicolas climbing onto the top bunk shake his doona into its cover, “like we did in Sweden”), then decided to go check out the town. It was 10pm when we left to go find the appropriate Metro train, and once we’d walked up and down the main road and mall a few times, laughing at all the drunken Danes and marvelling at how many 7-11s and McDonalds there were, we found our way back and got to bed at 2.
24-06
Woke and lay for a while listening to Nicolas snoring, then decided it was time to get up and get ready. The showers started by the push of a button and there was no way of regulating temperature, although that was ok because each burst only lasted 25 seconds and the water didn’t warm up until the 5th time I turned it on. Such is the life of backpackers I guess. Went back to the room to remind Nicolas that we had to check out at 10am, which resulted in his 15 minute rush to shower, re-pack and help me strip the beds again. We carried our sheets down to the laundry shoot in reception and checked in again to see if we could get another night. There were no private bedrooms (and the branch in the city “doesn’t answer the phone” for cross-bookings), so we booked a bed each in separate dorms (no boys with girls), spent another $17 on sheets (we could’ve kept the old ones but neither of us fancied going through the dirty-washing pile) and carried our stuff back into our new rooms. They each had five beds, and three in mine were already made up (one with her own sheets, clever!) but no one was in.
We’d missed the buffet breakfast by waking later, so back down at the foyer automats we bought a very healthy replacement: chocolate bars and caffeine in the form of Coke or coffee. I only had one bar at least, Nicolas had three! We walked down to the Metro station and I helped a Danish woman buy a ticket for her bike, then it was off to Kongens Nytorv to look for some castles. We found New Harbour instead, with lots of pretty buildings, a canal and a bike at the bottom of it. Next we stumbled across Tivoli, a sort-of theme park at the edge of the city. We had a burger each for lunch then went to go buy the four tickets needed to go on one of the 12 second rides which looked funner than it was.
When we’d had enough of wandering around the park we headed for the exit and I asked the man on the gate where we might find the castle that had the changing of the guards ceremony. He didn’t really seem to know what I was talking about, but eventually pointed us in the direction we’d come and told us to just keep walking for 4km or so. On the way we were constantly plagued by the 3rd year graduates who were carrying on the age-old tradion of drinking all day and riding around in the back of open-trucks singing and cheering and sculling their drinks whenever a car honked at them. Nicolas thought it was great fun but after about the 10th identically flag-decorated lorry carrying the same intoxicated teens, it was getting a bit old for me. When we got back to the Kongens Nytorv square they were even climbing over the statue there, running in circles inside the fenced-off area like it was some Danish-revolution. The Copenhagen graduates of 2006 will be famous in tourist photos all over the world anyway.
After asking for help at a charity art exhibition (the girl wouldn’t give us any, even though she knew where we wanted to go, because she was hopeless with directions) and then an open-air bar (where Nicolas also bought a cup of beer for almost $10), we finally found the Amalienborg castle and museum. We took some photos of the guards in their little boxes and then wandered over to sit beside the river, and opposite what turned out to be the city’s famous opera house, although we didn’t know it at the time. Yeah, we didn’t do so much research…
There weren’t many people around so I asked at the museum office when and where the changing of the guards was, and they informed me that the “big one” was on the next day at 12pm. So we decided to come back, and went to catch the Metro again, planning to get off at a random station and see what was there. We disembarked at Nørreport where we found the Rosenburg castle and park grounds. Therein we paid the entrance fee and wandered around the dingy little rooms for half an hour. Then we followed the signs to the crown jewels were the boy on the desk demanded to see our tickets. We innocently explained that the last bloke had only given us a sticker as proof of payment and he rang to try and confirm this. The prankster had conveniently gone on his break so we were believed and eventually allowed in (the security on the door “won’t tell”) to see the monarchy’s collection of guns and jewels, which was extravagant of course.
Back into Kongens Nytorv, which was actually walking distance from the castle (if your conception “walking distance” was quite broad anyway), where we had ice cream and walked through the mall to a buffet pizza joint, American style right down to the baseball pictures and football jerseys on the walls. We both had beers (it was Nicolas’s third so I thought I’d better make some effort, although I just went the small), and eavesdropped on the Poms at the table opposite.
After dinner we walked to the train, but Nicolas was sure we should take the Metro instead, so we walked another 30 minutes there. Back at the hostel we went to our separate rooms, where I was still the only one, so I made my bed and rested my feet for a while, before going down to the foyer for Nicolas to check his email, check the maps and brochures for tomorrow’s plans, and sit outside in the cold for a cigarette (him not me) and to watch the drunken Aussies push each other into the bushes.
At 11:30 I was bored enough, and certainly tired enough, to venture up to bed, which I found one sleeping roommate and another preparing for bed, so we exchanged greetings and I asked if she wanted the window left open, but that was all the bonding I got (so much for my dreams of all-night dorm parties with foreign backpackers) before we were both asleep at last.
25-06
Woken by my phone alarm, considerately set to vibrate although I was the only one still asleep, and headed down to the showers which this time only lasted 8 seconds per push, so I just leant on the button. I expected Nicolas to be late but he actually beat me down to reception, where we checked out and sent our sheets off to the wash again. Boy backpackers must be a little friendlier, as Nicolas had a chat with a man from Belgium who even spoke a little French, so he was pretty impressed with the dorms.
We took the Metro to the train station in the city, where we left our bags in a locker for $5. It took a little bit of effort, as nobody I asked had the appropriate coins, but this must be a common problem because when I lined up with my 50 kroner note at the desk the man pointed me in the direction of the change machine before I could say a word.
The S-train to the Metro to Amalienborg again (en route stopping off to buy a packet of biscuits each for breakfast, and a Coke to wash them down), in time to see the changing of the guards which consisted mainly of them standing around in the sun and the tourists flocking to each corner of the grounds to watch every identical changeover. I’m told it’s more exciting with music and whatnot, but that only happens when the queen is in town.
Anna, who lived with my host-family for a year in 2004 (and was very excited to herr about them all), was visiting Denmark for the Roskilde festival and old-times sake, and had just flown into Copenhagen that day so met us in the castle square and took us down to see the Little Mermaid statue which wasn’t too far from where we were (Anna had been to Copenhagen a few times in her time, so knew the city “like her pocket” in Nicolas’s words). Everyone had prepared me for the disappointment, saying she was much smaller than expected (just like the Mona Lisa), but I thought she was ok. What was stranger was that she was only a statue on a rock, and there was no information or cafes or anything set up nearby, although there was one old dude who seemed to have the job of stopping the tourists from climbing out to hug her (which they were doing until he came, so Anna and I weren’t game to follow afterwards). Nicolas wasn’t too impressed so, after Anna had bought a watercolour painting of New Harbour from a table-stall selling t-shirts and CDs of music to look at the mermaid by, we headed back into town to catch the bus to the mall (although Nicolas and I had walked the same path repeatedly, intentionally or otherwise). We had McDonalds for lunch (Anna ordering in Danish, Birgitte would be proud), and then Anna decided she’d had enough, after spilling Coke on her pants, so she went back to her hostel to go to bed. We all walked to the train station together then parted ways, Nicolas and I to go buy our tickets home because we couldn’t think of anything left to do. We caught the train out to the airport first, because on the way we had been heading for the hostel first and had to make a couple of changeovers, but when the conductor checked our tickets he told us we were going the wrong way and the only thing we could do about it would be to wait at the airport for an hour because we’d just missed our train which was leaving from Copenhagen central as we spoke. We did this, although Nicolas no longer trusted me and kept checking the televised timetable (he said he was “septic, like the tank” which apparently translates in French but I informed him that he was probably “sceptical”, not “septical”…), but eventually we found the right train and the right wagon, and some empty seats (we hadn’t booked seats, which was optional, but maybe that was lucky because we’d missed the train anyway and would have spent $5 for nothing!). This achievement was soon overshadowed when we had to move four times because people kept getting on and throwing us out of their booked seats (a little LED display above each seat indicates its status, but if someone is sold a seat after the train is on its way, it stays as “can be reserved” and you can be replaced at any stop). Evenutally we found some seats that had been booked to a place we passed and then not filled again, and we could finally settle down (although Nicolas still didn’t trust me).
Home at 10pm, where I unpacked, watched TV with the family for half an hour and then went down to Nicolas’s for dinner. We had scrambled eggs, with bread of course, then Camembert cheese (French tip: only buy Camembert in a cardboard box, this is the only way it keeps its proper flavour. Bonus tip: cut a hole in the middle of a block of cheese and put in on the barbeque. When the centre begins to melt, dip bread in the middle and you have your own fondue set!) with more bread and red wine (the cheese and wine I wasn’t meant to like, because apparently the girls in France think they’re too strong and so the boys don’t like to consume these things before going out to the disco, for fear of repelling the women. Nicolas argues that whiskey kills the smell anyway). But I felt quite refined having wine and cheese with a Frenchman, despite the fact we were in his little kitchen in Denmark, talking about all the places we’d rather be.
Nicolas enjoyed telling me lots of stories about the stupid things he and his friends had done at birthdays and on holidays (including drinking too much warm red wine when skiing and not being able to get off the chairlift again), and we talked more than we did all weekend actually, and after ice cream for dessert and the passing of midnight we both decided it was high to time sleep.

08-06
Caught the bus into town, and it arrived 8 minutes late because there was a new driver being trained. He stopped a little too late and I had to walk over to the door, and then he forgot to change the zone number on the information panel (an experienced driver was sitting up the front, and had to do it for him), but he did ok I think. I wonder if he was nervous.
Went to the library and chatted on the internet, and took a picture of the woman sitting next to me because she wanted to send it to whoever she was writing an email to. Then she asked me to watch her stuff while she went somewhere, which I obligingly did. I’m pretty sure that’s what she said anyway, it was in Danish. I got “2 minutter” anyway.
Tried to go walking in town but it was too warm and I was wearing pants. Tried a kebab from a place I hadn’t been before, and sat on a bench to eat it in the square with the giant snowballs (arty Danes). A woman came and sat next to me and talked to me for a bit in Danish, so I smiled and nodded, but it was time for me to catch the bus soon so I never had to revel that I didn’t really understand her. Bluffing is great.
09-06
Onto the internet at home after cleaning the bathroom (the bottles of detergent etc were subtly left out on the bench as a hint to me, although I did expect it because almost 2 whole weeks had passed since I had last cleaned), sorting the washing and emptying the dishwasher. Let’s see if these habits hold out once I get home!
To town with Daniel in the afternoon, where we found a Brazilian drink at Netto (the dodgier supermarket). He had always raved about this drink, unique to his country, so I tried and it was ok… only cost me a dollar, although the supermarket sneakily didn’t include the cost of the can on the price sticker so it was really $1.20. Then to the souvenir shop, where I didn’t buy any souvenirs, and to the hairdressers for Daniel’s hair to be dressed.
Home at 3, “sun baked” with Charlotte (well, I sat in the shade with a book whilst she tried to get a tan in the feeble Danish sun, wearing a bikini and everything), and then an outdoor grill dinner. Then off to get Josh from the airport! Living in London, it cost next-to-nothing just to “pop over” to the surrounding countries, and visit your poor lonely exchangie friends. So he did. We left home 10 minutes late (we had retired to the lounge by then and were eating cake and watching TV, so Knud wasn’t so keen on moving. At least it meant I only had to have half a piece of cake, which was marzipan-filled of course, and therefore disgusting), but so was Josh’s plane so he wasn’t left stranded at the airport thinking we didn’t love him. Now just let me say, I’m very glad it isn’t me on the other side of the airport doors when I arrive home in July, because it was completely terrifying! Every time someone came around that blind corner I would look up hopefully, but it was always for someone else… once I saw a guy and my foot twitched ready to go over to him, but the moment faded and I realised it was someone else. Josh finally appeared, and I recognised him despite my fears, and we went outside to wait for Knud, who had been cruising round because he couldn’t find a car park. They shook hands (as is Danish tradition, although they never do it properly; always limp and meaningless), but then Knud didn’t speak to him the whole way home. When we did get back everyone else had gone to bed, as it was around 11pm, so we went to my room and talked until 1 before deciding we should follow suit, and Josh was out like a light.
10-06
Having a visitor gave me an excuse to go to the Randers Rainforest in town, which had been on my list for a long time but no one was going to take me. We visited the three domes, containing plants and animals from Africa, Asia, and South America, and it was nice and warm for our thonged feet. There were also fish tanks, and snakes in tunnels between domes; one snake we found was not even behind glass but only a thin wire mesh, and he was steadily making his way upwards like a charmed cobra, until gravity got the better of him and he fell with a thump. They’re fascinating, but completely repulsive at the same time… speaking of repulsive, we got to see a little monkey ripping the insides out of a mouse too, so that was nice.
At 12:30 we met Daniel at the bus station and went to Føtex for chips, Netto for Brazilian drinks, and City Sandwich for a Big Burger Meal (always a winner. Made Josh try “remoulade”, an apparently Danish condiment that I’m sure was first made from just whatever was left in the fridge – a recipe on the internet says it conatins mayonnaise, mustard, Tabasco, Worcestershire, garlic, egg, horseradish, vinegar, parsley … mmm! The only thing it’s good for is hiding the taste of that horrible rye bread, but the Danes will eat it with anything, that and tomato sauce, sorry, ketchup!). Then to the river, where we met with Sarah and sat around for long enough to get nicely sunburnt (by that “feeble Danish sun” – apparently it was at its strongest this weekend and all Danes were warned to stay inside or get cooked like a lobster, as Josh did), then headed home for another grill dinner (cooked over hot coals made in Australia, which neither of us had ever seen before. We stuck by our gas barbie, although Birgitte tried to tell us that it just didn’t taste as good. She was the one that burnt the meat…). Josh learnt how much food these people eat, as it just kept coming, and he also discovered the meaning of “the Danes are cold people”, as they hardly spoke a word to him all night, and only used their English when speaking to Nicolas.
At 8 o’clock the three of us foreigners went off to catch the bus into town, to see an Aussie girl playing at Tante Olga. Her show didn’t actually start until 10, but that was the last bus in, so we killed some time at a café with a cocktail each (mine was mainly vodka I think), then a Jamaican beer for Josh and I, and a whiskey and Coke for Nicolas. He footed the bill too which was very nice.
Down to the club to see the “real sing-a-song evening” as the poster advertised (not sure if they meant “sing-a-long” or if they were just saying that she was going to perform an actual song…). The girl’s name was Holly Shepardson, she came from Western Australia and she was very sweet. Whilst introducing a cover of an Aussie band’s song, she overheard Josh and I talking about it (there weren’t many people in the audience, and they were all too quiet for her liking), and asked if we were from Australia – afterwards (as the witty DJ played "Land Down Under") she and her two mates, plus an Alaskan exchange student who knew Mariana and April, came over and chatted with us until it was time for them to go home. The two boys were working and tripping around Scandinavia, and when they heard that their high school mate was playing in Randers they packed up the car and drove across 5 counties to see her. Good mates.
The three of us were buying a round every time we went for a drink, so the beers just kept coming and the cheer was on level 10. Josh and I had a beer-induced discussion about how stupid it was to buy a miniature gold cannon after visiting a historical ship just so your parents could say “oh yes, my daughter’s been to Denmark…” So I’m glad someone else feels the same way there…
After Holly and her mates had left us, we headed onto Hr. Nielson’s, where the boys danced but didn’t score (although there were enough skinny blonde Danish girls around, with their white pants and bra straps hanging above their tops) and I sat and watched. Felt just like home haha, but I was in no way game enough (or drunk enough) to shake my groove thing alone (wouldn’t want to cramp their style anyway).
At 5ish we left to go and find a taxi, although it was harder than expected. We started out on the corner opposite Tante Olga, where everyone stands at this hour and beats each other off for the cabs that drive through every 5 minutes. I called the taxi service and they said they would send me one, but if it did ever come it was stolen by someone else… so we tried to go find a more deserted area where our taxi could find us, and I ordered one to meet us outside Føtex. Ordered in Danish actually, because the boys told me to… so maybe that was the problem because the ones that did come didn’t stop where we were but continued on to the “taxi” stop sign in the car park, despite our best efforts to catch one trap one by each strategically standing on a corner and getting ready to jump on the door handle of the next car to come along… when this didn’t work we went back to Tante Olga, bought a slice of pizza (Nicolas once suggested that we got back to his place he would make breakfast, and I can’t remember why we didn’t…), saw Ida and her boyfriend (whom I had smsed trying to get them to come out with us, but never got a reply… I can take a hint…) and finally snavelled a cab. The driver spoke English which was helpful, and we found our little street by the fourth windmill, said good night to Nicolas and fell into bed once again.
11-06
Up at 9:15 to leave at 10 on a road trip out to the west with Nicolas. Didn’t leave until 11ish but that was ok, we weren’t feeling too badly anyway. First we went to Silkeborg, where there was a Sunday market but Nicolas wasn’t too keen on wasting time on fossicking (that’s an Australian word, the Word British dictionary didn’t like it! And it’s taken me 5 months to actually read the name of the dictionary that Word is automatically set on for English – I always assumed “Storbritannien” was some foreign country I’d not know, but “stor” means big, and a closer look reveals it’s obviously Great Britain… sp good on my observational skills) through the typical junk that comes with car boot sales, i.e Britany Spears videos and old mobile phones and partner-less shoes, so we went for a stroll by the river instead, watching bronzed Danes with no shirts on (as is the fashion in “summer) canoeing past. We sat opposite the water feature, which was clearly just the end of a sprinkler hose poking out of the river, rated the tree of out 10 (I gave it an 8, Josh only a 7), and curiously looked on as an older woman stopped at the bin beside us and laboriously removed a full Føtex bag (ransom money?) and walked off…
Next we headed into the dead centre of town, particularly dead being a Sunday morning and all, then decided there was nothing more to see and got back on the road.
After a few wrong turns we were en route to Ringkøbing, a quiet seaside town on the western coast. We stood on the rocks and looked out into the ocean, which just more curved Danish shore on the each side, then went in search of somewhere to eat. The only place that was open, apart from the Chinese takeaway joint, was a diner with outdoor wooden tables and customers who all knew each other, so we ordered fish and chips (for me, keeping in the theme of the surroundings) and burgers for the boys (very unimaginative), and sat down in the shade of the umbrellas to eat.
After lunch we went for a walk beside the sea, actually a dirt road several metres up from the disappointing 20cm of sand which looked like it had been artificially dumped there just so there was some beach, then gave up and turned around to go back to the car. A quiet ride home, as we were all exhausted from the night before, and we were back in time for another grill dinner, and they actually spoke to Josh a couple of times (even if they did try Danish on him, as if he would understand it!). Come 8:30 and it was time to walk Josh to the bus stop, as they wouldn’t drive him out to the airport and I couldn’t accompany him because there were no buses back (lucky I thought of that, or I would have been stranded and that is something that would happen to me!). Walked back home to my quiet room and prepared myself for the fantastically exciting week to come (that’s a hint to skip over the next 4 days of blog, because it’s pretty boring…)
12-06
Met Daniel at the library at 1pm to show around a Spanish girl, who had been in town for 2 months and was working at the rainforest, as a kind of GAP year. Our tour wasn’t very exciting, especially as Daniel took her straight to the learn-Danish section (he’s very keen, but we both rolled our eyes behind his back) when all she wanted to see was the CDs (a girl after my own heart). We then took advantage of the sunshine and wandered the streets for a bit (and the boy from the kebab shop, out delivering pizza, recognised me and said hello! Do you think that means I buy too many kebabs?), as none of us really wanted to go home I think, but there was nothing exciting to see and we didn’t really have anything to say to each other. All the same, Daniel said he’d invite her out if we had another picnic, and I’m sure she was thrilled…
Home at 4, time on the computer, put Josh’s bed away, listen to my new CDs (including a Danish band called “Kick the Kangaroo” and another with a didgeridoo featured on one track. Someone likes Australia…). Told you it was exciting.
13-06
Went to school to take back the dictionaries I had borrowed, and it was all very quiet there. The lady in the office was on the phone so I just had to leave a post-it note, so hopefully they understand who they’re from and don’t come storming around to the Bay-Smidt’s house demanding compensation when I’m gone. On the way out I noticed the letters spelling out ÅMT (the municipality) on the wall, which had slowly been disappearing, where now all gone, which was a bit sad because I wanted to pinch one too (I would have taken the little circle above the Å).
Off to the storcenter for my last pasta salad (ordered completely in Danish, and served in new plastic containers), which I ate in a sunny spot at the backend of the plaza, on a bench seat heavily chained to the wooden table, presumably so no one would carry it away. Those thieving Danes.
To Kvickly to fuel Denmark's blank CD industry once again, and I’ll take this opportunity to tell you that in the supermarkets the cashier sits down and merely scans all your items and takes your money – you have to put them into the bags yourself. Plus it is common courtesy to put the little plastic divider between your groceries and the next persons; I guess it makes even less work for the underage employee. Oh and ice-cream here is generally sold in blocks which the Danes slice and eat off plates (the woman before me was buying some, and I thought it was an interesting little fact for you).
Into Tiger of course, where I bought a whole lot of junk (and a Mars Bar ice-cream of course, possibly the last!) and got a free bag to put it in, then caught the bus into town and sat next to an old guy who persistently talked to me even though I had my iPod on and only answered “ja” to everything he said…he changed buses when we got to Randers, as I understood him say, so that was the last I saw of him. He did say thank you though, because I had moved my stuff so he could sit next to me on the nearly full bus, so that was nice. Plus I think he enjoyed our little chat…
Library, CDs, internet – sent a list of all the food I wanted to eat when I got back to my aunty in Adelaide, and I’ve decided that the diet doesn’t start until I get back to Red Cliffs so I can have as many Tim Tams and peanut butter sandwiches as I want. Mind you, lettuce and dried apple made it onto the list too, so it’s not all bad. She did say she would have to take out a bank loan to pay for it all though – funny just how much you miss when you think about it…
Got back home at 5, and was told off for bothering because it was “too hot” to make dinner (I think it actually reached 30ºC here) and I was just going back out to language school in an hour. Which I did, and the most interesting thing that happened was when there were some boys revving their cars and bikes on the highway outside, and the teacher told us that in Denmark they call these guys “Brian” and the girlfriend, who is always on the mobile phone, is Connie. Kind of like our Bazza and Shazza I guess…
14-06
Into Randers, library, then went to get my last kebab. I promise. It was a different guy there today, and we had a nice chat about being in Denmark, the taxes and the tricky language. And the difference between a doner kebab and a rullekebab, which has been plaguing me since I came (there is no difference: rullekebab is Danish, derived from the fact that it’s kebab meat rolled up). Went and sat by a fountain I’d never seen before to eat, and stared into the windows of the Bingo hall (if I’d correctly understood the sign) which was full of ladies at tables, presumably ticking off their numbers… I didn’t see anyone jump up and down with excitement so I guess no one won anything too big…
Oh, and proof that God exists and listens! At the bus stop this morning I was thinking to myself, “it’s such a pity that Tiger is so far out of town, I wish there was one in the city…” So imagine my delight when I’m walking down the street thinking about how I needed some chewing gum after that garlic dressing before I talked to anyone, when I spot a swarm of people hovering around those wooden crates I know so well… so of course I went in a bought some more junk (they even had some stuff the storcenter branch didn’t), got another free bag, and some Tiger chewy (the girl at the desk told me I could take two, because it was the same price as taking one, and I had known this and decided that I only needed one, although I should have taken the other after she told me because I probably looked like an idiot when I said “ok, thanks” and just walked out… ah well, she might not recognise me next time I go in).
Next item on the list was to find a birthday present for Annie, and I was advised to get something for her because she was having a party and paying for most of it with two other friends. (And it’s my rule anyway: if I go to your party then I’ll grudgingly get you a present. Otherwise, you’d have to be pretty lucky.) After searching fruitlessly for a nice diary for her to take to Australia, I settled on a bottle of perfume and some Aussie-made moisturiser and one of those laser-bubbles-in-glass keyrings with a horse it in (the latter two from Tiger, haha).
Back home, met Annie going for one of the lasts rides with her horse which was being sold on Saturday (along with her other two, as a year away is too long for someone else to babysit them I guess), went for a walk around the block with Jens, Birgitte and the dog, etc etc.
15-06
Woke up to an empty house, as everyone was out helping to set up the community hall for Annie’s party that night (don’t ask me why they were having it on a Thursday), so did various chores to make me look helpful and awaited their return to tell me what to do next. Birgitte came home for lunch and told me to find some plastic tubs to put leftovers in, which led to me cleaning out the drawer full of ice-cream containers and whatnot, which is something I did often at home too, and made me wonder how our own cupboard was doing… the accumulation of margarine tub lids that don’t have a use must be universal…
Up to the hall where I was set to work tying balloons together, then helped Annie put up the flag outside (I think I let it touch the ground once, which probably comes with a hanging penalty here), and Charlotte took me on a tour of the town which took all of 5 minutes and we didn’t see anybody around (although we heard a couple of kids playing in the sprinkler). Then back home again to get ourselves beautiful – did I mention this was a “skirt and tie” party? As luck would have it, I had purchased a skirt not two weeks ago, without any intention of actually wearing it but more as a spur of the moment spending thing which so often gets me here. Once again that divine force was looking down on me, because I needed it tonight (I found out later that it was Annie’s idea, and it didn’t surprise me). Birgitte was shocked that I didn’t own any sandals (I hadn’t brought anything other than thongs for Thailand, not expecting to need them here), so she leant me some and I deviously left them under the table the rest of the night (although it did mean my feet were very black by the end of it).
Quite a few guests, most of them adhering to the dress code (although we did have to fix Nicolas up with a tie borrowed from Knud, and I noticed the birthday boy was missing his before the first hour was up), and we had a sit-down buffet dinner of pasta, salad and turkey, then the tables were pushed back and magicdance.dk turned on their laser lights and party music and the dance floor was slowly filled (as people got drunker I’d say). Everyone was sucking on beers and Cruisers (including Charlotte and her mates, which was maybe a little sad to see the 14 year olds needing alcohol to have fun), bought from Knud who was playing barman for the night. I chatted for maybe the last time with a girl called Camilla who I had met at 3 parties before, and her friends, as well as a girl who had been on exchange to America for a year, and spoke like she’d lived there all her life, a Kristoffer’s friend Carsten was quite drunk and thought all the songs were “beautiful” and it was “just so great to speak English with someone”. He also called me a “lemon” instead of a “woman”, which kept us all amused for a while. Also had fun dancing with him, Annie, Charlotte, and a strange guy I had danced with at the last class party, and whom I had to kept avoiding afterwards. At least it gave me a chance to practice my “how are you” “I am good thanks” in Danish, as I don’t think he knew where I was from… Was also made to dance with Nicolas holding a balloon between our foreheads ("Push!" "I am pushing!"), which was a little odd, but all in good humour…
Home at 3, with the sun slowly rising on the horizon, barely 4 hours after it had faded on the opposite side. Fell asleep munching on the last of the straight pretzels, and dreamt of going home.
16-06
The next time I checked my watch it was 12:10, so I bolted out of bed and headed to the shower, although it turned out Birgitte wasn’t even home (but when she asked what time I got up, I didn’t lie, so good on me haha. She just told me everyone else had been up since 7, going to school and whatnot, but then Charlotte was asleep on the couch at that moment so it was hard to feel intimidated). Read all day and then watched Gothika with Charlotte and Kristoffer (for the second time since being here – and you know you’ve been in one country too long when you start seeing Simpsons episodes again), and had leftover pasta salad for dinner (pouring each ingredient out from its individual plastic freezer bag).
17-06
Went into Randers with Birgitte, Jens and Charlotte (for the first and only time in the whole 5 months actually), to shop for birthday presents for Annie. They bought her a couple of travel bags and a silver cross necklace (this is the only jewellery permitted at her Australian Catholic school, so she had to get one). Also to Føtex for general grocery shopping, and the kids were bought a bag of pick’n’mix lollies each and even offered me some every now and then (Jens managed $10 worth, and got away with it! I guess you can’t put them back after weighing in, which is sneaky… Oh, I miss that lolly bar at Target, with those colourful cups you’d fill to the point that the cheap plastic lids that had to be sticky-taped on, and always burst at the counter, and the way you could always eat a couple out of the containers when you thought no one was looking, and then make yourself sick on the way home…).
Back home it was onto the computer as the parentals were out at a birthday party, and the kids were busy doing whatever it is they do, and I had three servings of pasta salad for dinner (over an hour of course, and it’s good for me if I ignore the oil that was poured over the noodles and the salt that was probably added to the frozen peas) and went to bed at 10:30, with the iPod up to drown out the sound of Nicolas mowing the lawn and Jens singing to techno music in his room above mine.
18-06
Awoken at 8:45 to sing happy birthday to Annie (first in Danish and then English for me), and then eat leftover bread rolls for breakfast and watch her open her presents. The keyring gave a bit of interest anyway. She then went off to work for an hour, and the rest of us cleaned the house ready for our dinner guests. Oh, and I cried today: “I always get a little emotional when I have to deprive an onion of its skin” Yeah, I cut a damn lot of veggies today! Even cooked up some new pasta and the dog got the old stuff (although I would have happily eaten it, mother knows best).
At 5 the first set of grandparents arrived, followed by the others and then the 5-person family of Kristoffer.: 17 of us altogether. Grill dinner, buffet of pasta and salad, plenty of soft drinks, and pear tart for dessert. Plus a twister over the fire. Then again, I could have had two. Is my willpower getting stronger? I doubt it.

28-05
Today we were out at something that I could best describe as the Wentworth Show; every farmer and his dog had come to stand round in the rain and judge the best horse and tractor, then buy another cow each and be offered fertiliser samples. Their kids ran around buying fairy floss and patting the rabbits, and their wives worked in the food tent – just like home, if you ignored the millions of unavoidable Danish flags (and the miserable drizzling rain). The grandparents drove Jens, Kristoffer, a girl called Erica, and I out at 10:30, and we walked around the arena (Erica and I together, she speaking mostly Danish so it was a fairly one-sided conversation and I probably missed half of it), until it was time for Annie to “perform” – she and maybe fourteen other girls rode their horses in formation and jumped over fences and whatnot to loud music. Which was very nice. We all went out to watch, the four of us huddled under a borrowed umbrella, and left soon afterwards because watching a million different horses walking around in circles wasn’t very exciting because they all looked the same to me. Except the Shetlands maybe. Got home at 3:30 and waited with Erica for her mum to come pick her up (she was speaking English with me just fine so I have no idea why she hadn’t done that earlier!), then had a toasted sandwich and watched my Young Ones DVD.
Dropped round to Daniel’s (caught the bus actually – he lives a little too far to walk and a little too close to make the bus trip worthwhile. As I was waiting at the bus stop, Annie and Nicolas passed me on their way home in the tractor – how country is that!), to get my camera’s memory card back, and ended up staying for dinner and playing a few rounds of a board game called Strategy. Started off not totally understanding what to do, therefore not doing awfully well because I didn’t actually have a strategy, but by the 3rd game I lost with still some men on my battlefield. If we had kept playing for a couple of hours I might have even come close to winning!
After dinner we went for a stroll in the forest behind his house, without seeing any deer but they usually came out early in the morning anyway, and then caught the bus back home and watched an interesting documentary on Muslim cola brands.
29-05
The day had finally come – off to Paris with the other Aspect exchangies! Nicolas kindly drove me to the bus stop so that I didn’t have to lug my 14 kilo suitcase up the driveway (14kg for a week, I dread to think how heavy it will be to go home!), and I managed to get it up the steps on the bus, and then find the right city bus to take me to the train station. A boring 4 hour train ride later, and I was at Copenhagen airport (actually København – when I accomplish world domination the first thing I am going to do, after introducing the metric system to time, is to let all the countries choose their own names and the rest of the world has to call them the same. Looking at a Danish map just gets me lost: since when was it “Australien”??), messaging Jesper to find out where to meet. After a burger together and running into two of the girls, Rebecca and Katherine (whom I had seen at one of the stations on the way and was sure they looked familiar – “ha, wouldn’t it be funny if they were two of the exchangies…”), we went off in search of the others. They all knew who I was, because in my 4 month I had become quite mysterious – it started when I didn’t meet everyone at the airport on that first day, instead I ran off to find my plane by myself and had to be called over the PA to check I was in the right place. Then, after the couple of emails I had been getting from the girls I met on the way over stopped coming, no one really knew where or who I was – they thought I must have been on Bornholm (the little island off Denmark which even has its own language), but Rachel, the other girl living there, was sure she had not seen me around. Turns out I had missed a few get-togethers with the others living on Jylland (the main island), and had turned into quite the mysterious figure. “Ah, you’re Anne!”
There was an hour delay on our flight, so we spent the time just talking very fast and gossiping about the Danes. This became a theme for the week, along with quoting The Castle and BASEketball, and other such cherished shows (as well as reminiscing about Weird Al, and the Scardies, and Lano and Woodley). We all got along really well from the first moment, and as an added bonus I was cool in my Aussie surf brands again (everyone was wearing Rip Curl and Quiksilver, and the occasional pair of thongs of course!).
After an hour and a half plane ride into France, we were hung around the train station for a couple of hours, wondering if we had to get ID photos for our train passes, and avoiding the mean-looking military security. For our first taste of French cuisine (although the amused girl behind the counter assured me that it was definitely not), we went to a diner offering a choice of packaged microwave meals, which they zapped for us and served with free bread. The boys smothered their cardboard carbonara with the equally as dodgy-looking caramel dessert and claimed that it tasted much better. Didn’t look so good though…
Finally we abandoned the idea of getting an ID photo (the meal had actually just been a distraction, so that Jesper could decide what to do next), and found a train heading to our hotel. After inspecting the contents of the “mini-mart” automat in the foyer (including Eiffel tower keyrings – no need to go there after all!), we were given keys and made our way to our designated bedrooms (I was in with Erin and Danielle, after swapping with Kate who wanted to be with Bec and Katherine…), unpacked, checked what was on the tellie, and went straight to sleep.
30-05
Free breakfast at the hotel, with a complete absence of croissants, but at least the bread was soft (“melt-in-your-mouth toast”). First stop, the French music academy, where we took our first group photo (or Jesper took it, 14 times with 14 different cameras). Then to the expensive designer shops to not spend any money, and a free fashion show under a spectacular glass ceiling, where the boys used up all their memory cards taking photos of the see-through dresses.
Next to the Eiffel Tower, of course. More group photos, and a Nutella crepe with Kristen, then we stood around underneath the tower and tried to decide how we were going to go up. One of the girls, Bec, was in a wheelchair after hurting her knee whilst in Denmark, so it was a matter of deciding who was lazy enough to take the elevator with her. The rest of us walked the 668 steps (I didn’t count, it was written on the ledge to save me the trouble) to the second floor, taking photos along the way and gaping at the huge fish in a pond below, then took the elevator up to the third (we had to buy another ticket, and whilst waiting the wind swept up my 5€ and Jesper had to chase after it, hehe. James nearly lost his ticket the same way, but caught it just in time, luckily because the woman wasn’t giving him another). The view was pretty specci of course, despite not really knowing which famous monument was which, and we found a sign telling us Sydney was 16,962 km in that direction, so we felt very far from home.
After getting our fill of views and French paraphernalia (there were men selling mini-Eiffel towers at the bottom, and when the policeman came riding along on his bike they were all ducking down behind the wall, or trying to casually walk away hiding big bags full of presumably illegal souvenirs), we had lunch (they had no hot dogs so I didn’t get to try a real French one, to see if it was anything like Denmark claimed), and headed on to the Mus d’Orsay. We skipped the queue thanks to our crippled friend, lied about our age (under 18 were free, and there were only 4 of us over, so an apologetic fumble with the bag to get my passport out and I was waved through without a hassle) and spent a couple of hours wandering through the Van Goghs and other artists whom I didn’t know but the art students were quite excited. The museum shut at 6, although they actually started closing off sections at quarter to, so we planned to meet by the elephant statue outside at quarter past. Kristen and I were there in good time, and browsed through the street vendors paintings (she had already bought two beforehand) and more dodgy merchandise pulled out from behind a bin, (“Hey, how are you, what’s your name, where are you from, I’ll give it to you for 4 because you’re a girl…”), but 6:30 came and there was no sign of the others. I sent Jesper a “where are you?” message, which he answered with a phone call (“This is Anne right? And you’re with…?) and instructions to find a train to Champ de Mars. No worries. Luckily I remembered which direction we had come from, and we found the metro, asked someone there which platform we should be on (mispronouncing the name of our destination of course, damn French) and sat down to wait for a train called “Vick”. Three stops later and we spotted the others waiting for us, apologetic but not quite enough (“We thought it was a little quiet…”), and tried to keep up with the group as they headed to our next famous monument, the Arc de Triomphe.
We thought we were able to get tickets for free, planning to lie about our age again, but it turned out there was a hidden clause and we had to be with parents to take advantage of our youth, and Jesper didn’t count (“What if we call him Dad?”). I suggested we all spread out and latch onto tourist couples, pretending to be their children, but Jesper was all for doing it by the book and so Aspect shouted us an overpriced ticket each. The Arc de Triomphe is apparently one of the largest round-a-bouts, with 12 avenues coming off it, each named after Napolean’s conquered cities. I couldn’t even name you one, but Brendan was quite the fan and was pretty excited about it all.
Back to the supermarket by our hotel for some supplies (i.e. alcohol, and boy was there a lot to choose from), not being allowed to go in until our larger bags were plastic-tied together, and we were warned not to take photos in there. Not sure why. Then back to the hotel for dinner in the adjacent restaurant, where we had a choice between meat patty (so red it almost mooed), and duck (which I luckily chose at the last minute). Both were served simply with a plateful of beans. This was made up for by the dessert, for which I had a chocolate cake of some description, runny inside and so rich it made my head spin. That’s heaven.
The boys, Kristen and I went for a look around our district to see if we could find some French nightlife, but after finding only two men in a car with the music turned up, and an abandoned supermarket trolley, we gave up and went back to Leigh (he was the one from Mildura who I met at the orientation in Adelaide, and sat a seat between on the plane), James and Brendan’s room for a house-party (ignoring the no alcohol policy of the hotel, such rebels. Look what Scandinavia has done to us!). I started on my bottle of Kahlúa (which I didn’t really want but Rachel and I were going to share it and her Malibu, but then she didn’t come), stealing Brendan’s Coke to mix it with when I could, and Leigh and James experimented with Skittles in beer, which they had learnt off the Simpsons. It was pretty cool: red Skittles were the best, then purple, and also red with green, but don’t try green and yellow because it tastes like dishwashing liquid. And beware the froth.
Spent the night trying to spot the huge rats running around in the bushes (luckily we were a couple of floors up), and watching “the fire channel” (a channel which was just a fire place crackling, how very random! Apparently the boys had seen someone put another log on the night before, but it didn’t happen for us), and soon it was time to sleep so Leigh and James decided they would go sleep in my bed (first they thought Kristen and I were in the same room, but then didn’t seem to mind sharing) and we were left with one each. I would have loved to see Erin and Danielle’s reaction in the morning…
31-05
Wandering off in search of a French bakery with the Kristen and the boys, as they were tired of old bread rolls and had a hankering for a bagette or something similar. We found a little shop on a corner, and they bought a pastry each but it didn't really live up to my expectations…I think we chose a particulary dodgy district to sleep in - no nightlife and no French loaves!
Off to the Lourve, where we wandered around for a couple of hours, looking Da Vinci works including the Mona Lisa (Leigh planned to shut his eyes when we got to that room, so that he could say he’s been to the Louvre but not see her, but then changed his mind at the last minute), Virgin on the Rocks, and not the Last Supper (“That doesn’t look the… oh, it’s not.”). Leigh and I got lost a few times (we didn’t see everything, but what we did we saw twice), were given wrong directions by a French security man (which led us into a wall instead of to the stairs), and generally insulted each other’s map-reading abilities. Saw a lot of artwork we didn’t understand, but the ceilings were pretty cool anyway and we managed to get where we wanted (the only statue Leigh wanted to see was being moved that day and not available for viewing, so he chose a random painting to chase and when we finally found it, it turned out to be about the same size as the thumbnail picture on the map! What a disappointment!)
On the way to lunch (pizza, hey aren’t we in France?) we stopped off at a church (leaving a couple of the group outside looking at the cow statues as we ducked into almost-hidden entrance – another phone call “Jesper, where are you?”) to take photos whilst trying to be respectful (tourists in churches is a little weird), then caught a train (it’s usually two trains between each destination, which wasn’t fun when it came to carrying the wheelchair up and down flights of stairs, trying to attract the attention of the ticket seller so she would open the disabled access gate, and then squishing ourselves into the train around the chair and the disgruntled Frenchmen) to Centre Pompidou, an “inside-out building”, where we watched some buskers and Pete borrowed Bec’s crutches and pretended to fall down the stairs, to our amusement and the horror of the passing French (one lady gave us the biggest greasy for laughing at him, sprawled out on the ground faking pain. Oops).
Next to the home of Quasimodo himself: Notre Dame. On the way there Kristen, Leigh and I got left behind again (thank God I had my phone opened to international roaming!) and had to ask other tourists for directions, and, we when did find it, Kristen and I were last out (we sat and had a little religious discussion by the life-of-Christ timeline) but they realised and waited for us this time. No need for a headcount, just check if I’m there! Apparently this was partly the reason for my new nickname, Dory, but also because I look just like that little blue fish from Finding Nemo. I’m so pleased! Pete and Jacob had caricatures done outside Notre Dame, but I would be too scared of what the artist saw - maybe I do look like Dory!
After doing the souvenir shops over (I didn’t buy anything of course, sticking to collecting free brochures and tickets, but had to buy some “naughty” dice for Bec to give to her sister, as she was too embarrassed to) we walked around the streets for two hours (playing Spot The Mini Couper, and there were plenty!) trying to find somewhere everyone was happy to eat, (sat down in one restaurant for 20 minutes until we decided that we couldn't afford it, apologised and left - which was a pity because I wanted gaspacho soup, if only for the Red Dwarf reference, although Kristen told me it was red, not green like I'd always imagined) and ended up getting falafels at a takeaway window. This was a chore in itself, as no one managed to get what they wanted from the non-English speaking service (we saw one being made with minced meat but they didn’t understand “that! We want that one!!” and I ended up having to feed my eggplant to Brendan). Washed it all down with sorbet (two, in Katherine’s case), huddled underneath the gas heater at a conveniently placed restaurant, eventually giving up on going to town (Jesper wouldn’t let us go off by ourselves), deciding instead to head back to the hotel for a repeat of last night. Erin and I were sent off to Maccas for chips and nuggets, and then settled down with the remaining Kalhúa, whiskey (flavoured with the last of the Skittles), and a whole lot of random conversation (i.e. James talking to himself very animatedly in the bathroom)…
01-06
Disneyland! All thanks to me too: when Ilse came back from Paris she told me all about “Euro Disneyland”, which I’d never heard of but she raved about it, so I smsed Jesper and suggested we went, and everyone else was up for it so it got added to the itinerary!
We accidentally caught the wrong train somehow, but the error was put right before too much damage was done and we were soon on the right track (pun, hehe) with plenty of time for a powernap before reaching our destination. Once there we took photos of the entrance, got left behind again (this time dragging Rachel and Jacob down with us), and then had to wait around for an hour whilst Jesper jogged back to the car park to pick up our tickets. Filled in the time with another powernap, and amused ourselves by trying to name all the Disney princesses and which one we would most like to be (plenty of little girls walking past with such costumes on, bet they don’t come in my size…). Eventually we made it into the actual park, first trying out this great attraction called the toilets, then to Sleeping Beauty’s castle, the Indiana Jones Temple of Peril (“runaway mine carts”), Big Thunder Mountain (“a runaway train”), Alice’s Curious Labyrinth, Space Mission: Mission 2, the Mad Hatter’s Teacups and various other such ostentatiously named rides. Went in the very unscary Phantom Manor (lacking the human element of unpredictability, but it certainly had the “how did they do that?” factor), climbed over some fences and ended up skipping the 30 minute waiting line to go on an also unthrilling rollercoaster, and went for a quick boat trip around the Small World, spotting Australia portrayed alongside New Zealand with a kangaroo and a kiwi bird. And a boomerang of course. Took lots of photos of Kristen, Danielle and I dressing up in all the merchandise, and generally just being idiots. After a disappointing lunch which cost us next to $22 (an extra $8 just for Kristen to swap her dessert from carrot cake to chocolate mousse), we watched a Lion King show and gossiped about the others, before we realised it was time for the parade to begin. We missed the first half of the floats, but managed to see Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, Dumbo, Mary Poppins and a couple of others. Pretty spectacular really, if you ignored the rain which ironically started and finished with the parade. The clumps of people wearing bright yellow plastic cover-alls with the Disneyland logo printed on the back was slightly reminiscent of the Ku Klux Klan, or some other cult in uniform. There could be something in that…
We went on the Space Mission ride three times, despite the whiplash it gave, and on the second go we stopped suddenly halfway through, and were left with no music and an eerie sense of abandonment (luckily we weren’t upside down). Kristen and I started singing the “why are we waiting” song (it was the first one that came into my head, after “Leaving on a jet plane” which wasn’t so appropriate), and we were jerked back into movement again, and brought back into the sunshine where we started, without so much as a glimmer of apology from the staff. My theory is that we stopped because we would have otherwise collided with the other carriage (two were circulating at a time), so I guess we should be thankful really…
In Alice’s Curious Labyrinth, a “maze” with hedges you could see over and through, we made it to the castle in the middle which was simply to sets of steps to climb up to the top for a view of the park. One flight was marked “downward” and the other “upward” – expecting the weirdness of Alice in Wonderland (“a very happy unbirthday to you!”), and believing stairs can go both ways (a mind-trick we also came across in the Lourve), we took the downward set just to be different. On our way up we met everyone else coming down, and realised that people were only meant to do down from the top, i.e. they were the exit… duhhhhhh!
Anyhow, met everyone outside when the park closed at 8, whereupon we headed home and then back out again to the Moulin Rouge. Not as exciting as you might think, as we only stood outside and took pictures, and the Coke sign adjacent was actually more impressive than the infamous windmill.
Found ourselves a little “Café Oz” opposite, with a view of the red neon lights through the window, and the boys drank “crownies” and the girls tried the cocktails and chocolate shots. The plan was to get drunk very quickly, as the last train was at 12:30, but we fell short and had to continue at the hotel. We started out in one of the girls’ bedrooms, then moved to Pete and Jacob’s on the 3rd floor, where we were bothered by neighbours after singing Wonderwall a little too loud, so we retreated back and were chased back to our own rooms by security. Oops. Danielle and I tried to trick the tipsy Erin out of room so we could go to bed, but when we tried the ol’ “we’re going to a great party do you want to come”-line and left the room, she locked the door on us and we were left stranded in the empty hallway (empty luckily, we would have been in trouble if that burley black security guard had’ve waiting for us!). We tried to get back into Pete and Jacob’s room but unwittingly knocked on the wrong door and were greeted by an unfamiliar man in a towel instead, so we ran back down (ignoring the plea of a man in the room opposite for us to come in, “just for a couple of minutes”) and slept five to two beds in the other boys’ room (me on the crack, can you blame me for snoring??).
02-06
Off bright and early (some not so bright, myself not included of course!) to the Versailles castle, once home of King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Most of us were quite fascinated by it all, but unfortunately we only saw a tiny portion of the castle and pretty quickly too (I had to keep a sharp eye on the group so I didn’t get left too far behind), and it would have been much more meaningful with a tour, or at least an audio guide. Brendan gave me the quick history of France, but as interesting as it was at the time I probably couldn’t repeat much of it back now. The quick facts in the Lonely Planet guide were fun though: in 2003 Paris had a heatwave wave with temperatures rising up to 40ºC and 14, 802 people died. “Mostly elderly”. Bet they’re glad they don’t live in Mildura (or didn’t live anyway)… and also, the bikini is a French invention, originally going to be called the “atome” because it is the size of an atom, but later named after the American atomic bomb testing site, Bikini Atoll. Aren’t you glad I told you that (not really, because now this blog has hit 6 pages).
We had Italian for lunch again: pizza and lasagne, with free water because $6 for a bottle of Coke was getting a bit much to handle. Off to the park for a stroll in the sunshine, a photo of Jacob and a French poodle (the woman owner refused to be in the photograph, but her husband was happy pose), and sorbet on the grass, which we were promptly told to get off by the poker-faced park-patrol. Somehow they knew instinctively that we spoke English…
Back to the designer shopping centre, where Rachel bought a $400 alligator-skin bag and I bought a chocolate croissant (funny how French food tastes better at home – Baker’s Delight all the way, along with McDonald’s fries) and stopped looking at everything after I’d seen the price tag. Then off to a three-course French dinner, on Aspect, which, for myself, consisted of salmon, then lamb (with beans; what is with these people and beans??), followed by chocolate cake. Oh, and a snail! We thought we should, so 15 snails were ordered and on 3 we chucked them down. They actually looked grosser than they tasted (especially Kate’s, which seemed to have feelers and all), although the garlic was nothing to hide the slightly dirty aftertaste… so I don’t think I’ll be digging in the backyard for such cuisine in future…
One of the waiters developed a crush on Bec (he was a little too old though, that’s all I’ll say), and he gave her a rose, bought from one of those wandering vendors, making us all giggle a little. After lining up to use the one toilet, and chatting with a friendly Frenchman about the quickest way to the city, and whether there was any public transport after midnight, we let Jesper settle the bill and headed off to see the Eiffel Tower lightshow. Which we just missed. As it was we were too far away to really even make out the tower, and our photos certainly left something to be desired – serves us right for having too good a time at dinner. Dropped and forgot my camera case there too. Back at the hotel Kristen cut my hair (after I told them I was doing it with the nail scissors they were duly impressed, but she spent the next day analysing it and was sure she could do better, so how could I refuse. Didn’t feel so good when she kept saying “oops” though…). We were all so tired that we were into the semi-drunk stage of honesty (“So is it all in my imgainatin?” “Yes”), so I didn't bother going back to my room and shared her bed for the night (Rachel and her host-sister Matilde, the out-numbered Dane, in the other. They weren’t game to sleep in the top bunk because apparently they were all sleepwalkers…). Really, we could have just rented half the rooms and saved a bit of money! Why didn’t anyone think of that before?
03-06
We woke up, confident we had an hour before we had to meet in the foyer to head off to the airport, but Jesper’s knocking at the door informed us otherwise and you will never see 4 girls move so fast in your life. We were dressed and packed and out the door in 10 minutes, trying to act cool in the face of Jesper’s agitation (we really hadn’t been very fair to him all trip, poor bugger!), but managed to check in with plenty of time anyway (if not an hour behind our own schedule). Hakuna Matata, mate (yes, we were singing Lion King songs whilst waiting to board; Disneyland had unlocked the kid within us!). On the way to the airport I had offloaded my change to an impoverished French woman on the train (she handed me a piece of paper with the typical “I have two children…” sob-story which I didn’t bothered reading, just saw a good opportunity to get rid of all my 1c pieces. She asked us to give the sheets back so she could use them again, making it all a little more believable than the lady we found in Berlin who handed us a laminated sheet of paper with her story on it! Hang on, how’d you afford a photo copier…?), and she blessed me so it obviously paid off.
Browsed the duty-free shop (all one of them, it didn’t seem to be a very large airport…), and there was perfume and chocolates bought before it was time to fly. Arrived in Copenhagen airport, said our goodbyes (who knew for how long), and headed off to buy a train ticket to Randers. Four and a half hours, a couple of naps and a wet collar later (ewww) and I was calling home to get someone to come pick me up (sitting on my suitcase out the front of the train station and the wheels slipped out from underneath me and I ended up on the ground. Quite embarrassing, and it certainly scared the woman who was walking past!). Found that my shampoo had leaked again (damn Garnier dodgy lids) so now I have to go buy some more. And with only 4 weeks to go.
04-06
Woken at 10am by Birgitte, and spent the day putting my photos up onto the net (and straightening them all; I blame that one leg shorter than the other). The other Aspect kids were on MSN but we didn’t talk much, which makes you think about how it will be in the future. There’s one great thing about the Internet keeping everyone close, but after a while you run out of things to say if you’re talking everyday… Mum and Dad rang for a quick catch-up, then Sue straight afterwards to talk about the same things (I still can’t pick a favourite part of Paris, and what are you meant to say: It was… awesome? But of course! Read the blog…). Then a walk around the block with Birgitte and the dog, and dinner outside on the “patio”, followed by making twisters over the fire and not coming in until 10pm because it still felt like 4… long sunshine hours are all very nice until you want to go to sleep and your room is still as bright as day!
05-06
Thanks to my new buddies I was invited out to Legoland, somewhere I’d wanted to go since the beginning but couldn’t con my other friends into coming with me! Charlotte, Jens and Nicolas came along for the run, the latter particularly useful because he drove us the 2 hours down, but we split up when there, only meeting every now and again to check each others’ progress (Lotte hadn’t finished her homework so wasn’t going to come, meaning Jens was going to stay home too, but she changed her mind at the last minute and we ended up leaving 20 minutes late…). After a few photos of the various Lego-statues and whatnot (I didn’t even know Lego was Danish until coming here, although apparently they’ve just sold to America because Mr Lego went broke), we lined up for the Vikings River Splash, and I found a piece of gold which someone had panned for at the Legoldmine (silly theme park names!) and dropped, but I ran out of time to redeem for a medallion. The ride was made fun by us waving our arms and screaming every time we went down again (something we repeated on the subsequent rides), but we managed to get slightly wet which was the whole aim. We tried to go on the caterpillar ride, which was kind of like the Cha-cha, and was meant to fix two people to a seat, but Katherine and I got stuck and I had to find somewhere else to sit! Oh the shame! Then to a couple of other rides, which were a little too short and really meant for under 10 year olds (as predicted by the concentration of kids of that age wandering around the park with their parents), photos of Bec doing dirty things to a Legoman, a 4D film (the 4th dimension being occasional sprays of water and a puff of smoke, but the animation was really quite cute), and a huge ice-cream (how could we resist) followed by Power Builder, the best ride in the park which actually wasn’t so good on a full stomach. The aim was to create your own ride: you were in a 2-seater “arm” which could be programmed with which the type of action it should do and in what order, for example spin backwards, or 360, or shake from side-to-side. I would have liked to play on that for a while, see if you could remember and predict where you were going next, but it was time for everyone to leave. On the way out Brendan and I went on a little boat cruise around the Statue of Liberty, and a few other Wonders of the World, and then did the tour of Lego-Copenhagen and Amsterdam, which was impressive. Just whole programming aspect of it, getting the truck to get on the ferry, the ferry to go to the other side, the truck to drive off and other to replace it was pretty cool. And all that Lego…
A quick look through the gift shop with Charlotte then it was a drive home again with Nicolas’ techno-music and Jens asleep in the backseat. Parents weren’t home so Annie made us dinner (pasta and sausage), then we watched TV and went to bed…
06-06
Up at 1pm, what a feat! Don’t tell Birgitte: she said to me that night “even though you’re on holidays, don’t get up at 10/ 11, I hate that…” Just spent the day writing emails and looking at everyone else’s photos, watched a bit of TV then had to make myself a toasted sandwich for dinner before going to language school (everyone else was having a BBQ, no fair). There were only 4 people in my class, so hopefully I got some individual attention and learned something…
07-06
Ah holidays. Up at 8:45 today, just to be a good host-daughter (I haven't said that before, it's kind of disconcerting), then vacuumed the floor (as I thought was requested, turned out it was meant to be the stairs I was cleaning) and sorted the washing. Spent the day being bothered by flies (there are no fly-screens so they’re always buzzing around, it's quite disgusting), had dinner, blogged and went to bed. "Forgot" to go to dance (well, everyone else forgot that I had to, and I didn't want to miss out on dinner! Or ride my bike in the cold…). What a life. Might have to do something soon, before it's too late…

15-05
Went to school although my class actually had their 4 hour English exam, so I was just on the computers all day blogging and reminiscing about the good ol’ days with Dad and Kate. Then to the library for 32 more CDs and a walk home in typical misty Danish rain. At night I helped with dinner and made chicken schnitzel again (on time too), and Annie said she loved them. Her exchange to Australia is all set, and she has her first family and a place at Assumption College in Warwick. Plus she’s getting that enviable Rotary allowance of $110 a month, although I couldn’t really tell if that was a lot. Depends how much beer she’s buying I guess… less than here probably.
Had a nice moment at the dinner table, when I was glad I could understand Danish. Jens got a phone called and, after some probing, revealed that it was Marlene, a girl from his class. Knud asked “Has Marlene found a boyfriend?” “Mmm.” “Who?” “Me.” Knud thought that was very funny.
16-05
Didn’t have school again, so I made myself hot chocolate for breakfast and cruised into town to buy blank CDs, browse through Tiger and go on the net at the library. Birgitte forgot that I had language school that night, so I went without dinner but gave in and bought McDonalds (it’s just next door). Ordered in Danish too (not too hard: “Uhh, McChicken burger. Og mellem pomme frittes.” But I managed to understand her further questions regarding soft drink and ketchup, so that was pleasing). There didn’t seem to be a take-away option, as the girl just put it on the tray without question, so maybe next time I’ll have to walk through the drive-thru. I’ve always wanted to do that.
17-05
In Geography I helped Bille write her project about Papua New Guinea, in Danish. She loves to hear foreigners trying to speak Danish, and tells me I sound just like Mary in my attempts (“Denmark is a lovely country, I like to live here…”). Maybe it will help snag me a prince?
In Danish we watched a short cartoon and a documentary about Hans Christian Anderson – he seemed to be one weird guy! Might have to look him up on the net though, as I’m sure all those bits about a shadow that came to life, and a talking duck, were more poetic license…
Back home I had a quick “farmor” (that’s granddad in Danish, which is the equivalent of a “nanna-nap”) and was so quiet that Birgitte didn’t realize I was home and planned dinner too late for me to eat before dance. D’oh. So I had to have this strange stuff called “koldskåls”, a sort of milky-yoghurt that you eat with biscuity-croutons and isn’t really that nice especially to then go cycling and dance. I had to ride both ways alone this week, as Charlotte was in Århus although I don’t know why, and managed to get there eventually, even if I did miss the turn off and had to chuck a U-ey in the middle of the road (at least I didn’t fall off). I’m not quite up to smsing whilst I ride, but I have managed to get started every time without crashing into something or hopping along for a few meters trying to get the pedal round the right height, so that’s impressive. Still have to walk up the hills though (and get Heidi to lock the bike, because I was too bugger to figure it out).
On the return trip I managed to spot a fox, two peacocks (or peahens, or maybe lyrebirds… I’m not sure what they were), a duck (or maybe it was a pheasant… I think I’m going to have to take my What bird is that?” book along next time), and plenty of the huge, fat, black slugs (always on the path on the way to school) that look like over-grown leeches and would look even more revolting if I accidentally ran over them.
18-05
I was going to take the day off (only Geography) and stay home but Birgitte came in to wake me up at 8:30 and then didn’t leave for work, so I was forced to go to the library in Randers so it didn’t look like I was wagging. The only excitement there was when I left and the detectors at the door went off, because one of the CDs I borrowed had another one hidden inside that I hadn’t scanned. At least I know they work now, and not to steal any books!
Bought an ice-cream on the way back from Paradis (“is” is ice-cream in Danish, yay a pun!) which I have wanted to do since I came but it only opened in April, and it was pretty nice, especially in the rain. Once home I burnt half my CDs (didn’t want to look too greedy), vaccumed the kitchen and lounge and emptied the dishwasher. I’m a good girl. Then off to language school, and then a chat with Katrine on the bus home. She told me that the Danes aren’t too happy with their Prime Minister at the moment (we both agree he looks like a cartoon puppet), and yesterday she had been out protesting against his proposal to cut the amount of money that students get for going to school, and also something to do with pensions. Basically they sat around in the park waving signs and drinking beer, but they think they got the message across!
19-05
Only had History in the second period, so I (you guess it) wagged. Went to school at the usual time anyway, with hopes of going to the storcenter but it wasn’t opening until 9 so I just caught the bus into and thought I would go to Føtex instead. But no, they were still in bed too, not opening until 9, and the library had even more of a sleep in (10!) so I decided to take a little wander through Randers again. I began by following random people, but lost them when I stopped to take photos of interesting things, and ended up walking through a very pretty graveyard (the tombstones not gaudy or cramped and garden perfectly kept) and then found a small creek running between two blocks in a sort of forest, with rocks and bridges and birds and everything. Unfortunately a bit too far to come for a picnic, but it was very nice all the same. Found my way back to town (cheated and caught a bus actually), to buy chips from Føtex and catch a bus to Daniels. There the two of us played Danish Monopoly (after a couple of attempts trying to work out how much money we should have each, as the instructions weren’t in the box), and made pancakes. Then we caught the bus into town, and he met with some people about volunteer work at the newspaper (an AFS requirement) and I went to the library (again. I like it there ok!).
Arrived home to find Knud taking photos of the ute so he could sell it, so I posed on the bonnet and added another 1000 kroner to the price. Walked in the door to have Charlotte leap out and say “boo!” but I had heard her coming, so I volunteered to try again and be frightened this time. I’m such a nice person...
20-05
Was told off in the morning for watching tv (“The Prince and Me” – I was learning how to charm a Danish prince, even his name was wholly un-Danish, as was his pronunciation of his butler's name, and there was a severe lack of any Danish language throughout the movie, even the bits in Denmark…), but I was only trying to be sociable with whichever sibling was in the room at the time, and I just went downstairs and read a book in my room instead.
In the evening I called Ilse to invite her round to my place the next day, and when asking her host dad if I could speak with her I said “Må jeg snakker med Ilse, please?” He was more confused by my pronunciation of her name to notice, so that was lucky.
21-05
Birgitte found a recipe for raspberry slice for me to make, and it turned out pretty well – just like those jam biscuits with the little star-shaped hole in the top one, you know the ones. Ilse and Daniel arrived at 2pm, and we watched Fight Club and the beginning of The Lion King (“Special Edition” from Thailand, with a new bit I hadn’t seen before), talked (well, Ilse talked mainly of course) and Birgitte managed to get them to stay for tea (dinner, sorry. “Tea” confuses people).
Walked Ilse back to the bus stop and farewelled Daniel who was riding home, and then met Bedstemor (grandma) on her walk around the block, so joined her on the way back down the driveway and managed to carry on a pretty good conversation with her in broken Danish, so I was proud of myself.
22-05
For our H.C Anderson studies in Danish, we watched the Little Mermaid, or rather “Lille Havfruen” because it was dubbed but I remembered enough to follow, and compared it with the original text (in which she dies because she couldn’t stab the prince to save herself).
After the 3rd class I went to town with Daniel, to find Ilse at the library and take her out for a chocolate milkshake or caffe latte, whichever was to take your fancy. When I ordered they didn’t have any muffins left, but when it came to Daniel’s turn, 10 minutes later as he went to the bank first, they were cooked so we were all lured by the delicious scent into buying one too. I had mine with two scoops of ice-cream because Sarah Camilla, whom I had met at Ida’s last party, told me that it a much better deal to get two than one, and offered me the coffee and muffin deal too but I didn’t take it. These great deals are the downfall of Danish health (apart from all that salt and oil they add in their cooking); in the supermarket it is very easy to be tricked into get at least two of everything because you save a couple of kroner when you buy in bulk. On most of the price stickers the big numbers are the price for two or four and you have to look a little closer to see how much for one, which often tricks me. But that’s why there is always at least five cartons of milk in our fridge!
After stopping in at a shop selling new and second-hand books/CDs/magazines/DVDs, where I bought two Mad magazines in Danish and four British comedy DVDs, and a souvenir shop that also sold wigs and cards and the like, so that Daniel could buy a couple of flags, we headed back home in the stupid Danish weather that could not figure out how what to do with itself.
23-05
The rest of my class had a Naturfag exam, and I knew about it this time so I stayed home. Charlotte was home, but I bravely had spaghetti meatball for breakfast anyway, because it was 10:30 and I could claim it was lunch. I’m not really sure how they stand on the left-overs for breakfast issue, because there is always dinner from a few nights ago sitting in the fridge and I’m never sure if I can eat it or not, so I wait a couple of days and then eat it on a late morning when there’s no one home.
Burned CDs, emailed, read, watched TV. Went to language school at 6:15, and arrived in town 10 minutes before it would start, which is normal but today was the first day of our new class (they combined the two as there was only ever half the class attending anyway) so I didn’t want to show up early and not be able to find the room. So I went and got another ice-cream from Paradis, this time one scoop of quite nice Ferrero Rocher and one of bubble-gum-tasting chocolate. I’m not sure I particularly like Danish ice-cream; the consistency is quite soft and nice but the flavours don’t really appeal to me. Perhaps that’s a good thing, an incentive not to have any more!
On the walk to the school I was stopped by a Danish family who wanted to know the directions to Jensen’s Bøfhus (beefhouse). I had been there before, and had passed it many times since, but I can never work out which road leads where in this mall so I just told them (in Danish of course) “I think… go right… maybe… I don’t know… good luck!” and fled.
At language school I met Jen (from China) and we both went up to our old classroom, which was empty, and then back downstairs to where I’d seen classes happening before, and here we found six or so of our new classmates sitting around the table waiting. The class was pretty good, more advanced, such as grammar etc, but still stuff I already knew and could have learnt at home when really I should be learning more words and their pronunciation. I’m not sure how much our old teachers told the new one, but he seemed to think I didn’t know very much and even told me just to try the homework but “you’ll probably make lots of mistakes anyway”. Thanks for the confidence!
Whilst waiting for the bus I sat outside to avoid the stink of old man that usually intoxicates the waiting room, and a young black guy sat next to me and after a while asked if I which bus I was taking (my nose was in a book so I think he was being helpful and making sure I didn’t miss it, as there were a couple about to leave). I told him that I was catching the 214, but my Danish must have been so dodgy that he asked if I was not from here, and where was I from? When I told him Australia he switched to English, saying he was better in it anyway, and told me that he had met some very nice Aussies and his live history and philosophies. I cant remember where he was originally from, but he had lived in the Middle East and had come to Denmark as a refugee and was now working with in a mental institution, which was where he was catching the bus out to now. Anyway, we had a chat and then I caught the bus home (with a driver who didn’t recognise me and stop for me early, so I had to walk all the way but, even though it was 10:30, it was still bright as day).
24-05
A late morning, alone so I had a toasted chicken and cheese sandwich for breakfast. The cheese wasn’t very nice but oh well. Managed to leave for school on time but half way up our driveway I turned around to see the dog (who was not around that morning so I had not locked him up) following me as enthusiastically as only he (and I suppose any other bounding balls of fur and slobber with only 3 brain cells) can. I tried unsuccessfully to get rid of him by much pointing and shouting, but he just kept jumping around, wagging his tail, and then ran around a bit in the fields and peed on all the trees. I didn’t trust this to keep him occupied long enough for me to run out of sight, so I had to chase him and grab his collar and drag him back home and into the shed so he couldn’t follow me out onto the highway and get hit by a truck. Or the bus that I was meant to be catching which was just driving past… it was only 15 minutes until the next one so I put my jacket on the grass and sat down at the bus stop to wait, and only got honked at twice. Once in town I missed the yellow city bus to school by about 30 seconds, as did Nicolaj who was actually on my bus the whole time too. He wandered off somewhere, texting on his mobile, so I went into Føtex and bought a yoghurt and some sultanas (which I have been looking for, but could only find raisins usually), and then met him again on the next bus 15 minutes later. When we finally arrived at school (or rather, the storcenter, which we then had to walk from in the rain) there were only 2 in the classroom and 3 others in the common room on computers, as it was Geography and everyone was working on projects separately. So I went on the Internet and looked up university courses and whatnot for the remaining 45 minutes.
I was expecting to have the next class, Spanish, but everyone was packing their bags and leaving so I guessed that we didn’t… stayed on the computer anyway, and chatting to Michael who had arrived late too (but because he had stayed up until 2am playing computer games the night before). He left at 1pm and then I did too, after I had been sitting alone in the room for half an hour because everyone else had gone home. I really only left because I was scared they would lock the doors and I would be stuck in the school until Friday, as the next day was a public holiday. At least there’s a hot chocolate and candy machine in the caf…
Did a bit of shopping in the storcenter (shorts and a skirt, ready for “summer”), and then went into the city because it was “Open By Night” which turned out to be not just all the shops staying open until midnight but also live music, fairy floss and a couple of arcade stalls offering teddy bears as prizes if you bought a winning ticket or shot down the ducks. Met up with Daniel who was going to watch a friend of his play in a band at 6, but it turned out they didn’t start until 8 so I messaged Sarah and Nikita (Mexican and Danish, respectively) and they joined us Ba Vinci for hot chocolate and a nice chat. Turns out they are only 14, which is completely weird but we never would have guessed it. In general Danes always seem older than they actually are… We bought pizza slices for dinner and then wandered round the shops, which were packed despite the miserable rain, bought ice-cream (of course), and caught the bus home at 8 (guess we could have seen that band after all).
At 9 Birgitte drove us out to Annie’s “last school day” party, which was a congregation of all the kids in the 10th grade at her school, plus invited guested, to dance and drink beer of course. The tradition for the 10th graders, and actually anybody that is celebrating their last day of school, is to dress up in absurd outfits – there were plenty of fairies and punks and white-faced, green-haired monsters roaming the streets in Randers that afternoon, and it seems like most people got in on the fun, which is cool. Birgitte once showed me photographs of her own last day of school, and, by the look of her outfit, this is a tradition that has been going on for many years (no, it wasn’t just typical 80s clothes!).
At one point Annie and her mates were dancing and I was sitting along, so a group of girls invited me over (one of whom I’d accidentally smiled at 3 times earlier in the evening) and we chatted and I found some new dance partners. One of the girls, Pernille, turned out to be from the 1st year at my school, remembered me from the talks we did back in March and even caught the same bus as me every morning. She told me that when I first appeared she wondered who I was, and guessed that I had moved to the area, but then she heard me speaking English one day and realised I was foreign. That was fun to hear; I always wondered what others on the bus thought that first day I showed up… Anyway we traded email addresses and now I have a new friend, sadly a little late because I don’t think I have any more school after I get back from Paris…
25-05
Knud and Birgitte left at lunchtime for Budapest with a couple of the aunties and uncles, using the free tickets we got from Malev airlines back in February. Charlotte had gone to Berlin the day before and Jens was packed off to the grandparents, so Annie and I were left to run the household.
At 2:30 Nicolas knocked on the door and invited me to join him out to the Scandinavian Animal Park, half an hours drive away in Kolind. On the way it rained, and when we arrived thunder was brewing in the dark clouds, but we were only wet a couple of times before the sun came out again (giving way again to hail when we left though) and we could enjoy the walk through the huge, natural enclosures, taking photos of the reindeer, sleeping brown bears, artic foxes, polar bears, moose (“meese”? haha) and other such native attraction. Unfortunately they were not quite as attractive as they may have been in winter, with most of the animals now losing their fluffy coats in clumps, and not even ice in the polar bear enclosure, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. On the way back we did some English lessons, discussing past tense and when to use “would” and how very often we use the word “any”.
Back home, Nicolas invited Annie and I to his flat (still not really sure what to call it, but it’s a self-contained unit opposite the house and joined onto the office and shed) for a beer and a chat. Annie was at work and Kristoffer, Annie’s boyfriend who was staying with us, didn’t want to join, so he and I just looked at photos and talked (slowly, although he was getting used to my accent again). He’s 20, by the way, with a brother and a sister, and a love of tractors, judging by some of the photos in his album (a John Deer harvester, here’s another one spraying, ah this one’s for cutting the braches off trees, oh there’s that one again…).
We convinced the other two to join us eventually, and they brought popcorn and watched us eat pizza (they had dinner without me). After another beer, ice-cream cake (which Nicolas tried to give us each a quarter of, but Kristoffer and I protested and only got an eighth – although he made Annie keep the whole piece because she had claimed she was “always hungry” and told him his in Danish, which she has a habit of doing, just to vex him), we watched the end of whatever movie was on TV, let Berner lick the plates, and then went to bed.
26-05
Awoke at 5:20, 15 minutes before my alarm, and caught the bus at 6:30, straight to the train station is time. Today DSB, the train company I guess you’d say, was having a birthday and celebrating by letting us travel anywhere in the bigger island of Denmark for only $5, one ticket for the whole day. Daniel was the only other that could come, but it turned out for the best I think as it was easier to make decisions with only two people, and we both like doing the same kind of stuff.
Found seats in first class for the beginning of journey, despite fears that we would be standing up the whole way due to overbooking, and our plans to buy blowup chairs to put in the aisles, and got off in Århus, only to turn around and get back on again after realising it was going where we wanted after all. Got off again in a little town called Skanderborg, where we checked out the church and laid on the seat pretending to be dead (it was surrounded by a small hedge just like all the other graves), and then headed down to a lake we had seen from the train window (after Daniel asked a woman for directions, in English because he wasn’t sure how to pronounce the Danish word for “lake”). There we talked to the ducks, took some photos, and felt very lucky that it wasn’t raining. We then walked up to “centrum”, or the town centre, where not very much at all was happening, due to the Danish habit of not starting trading until 9 or 10. We managed to find the train station eventually (Danish asked for directions again, this time in Danish despite his fears of having the operative word confused with “farm”, which is quite similar) and a train soon bound for our next destination: Vejle. A confusing thing about the small size of Denmark compared with Australia, is that on the maps everything looks as far apart as Melbourne and Adelaide, but it actually only takes an hour or less to travel. Makes you feel like you’ve come a lot further than you really have at least.
In Vejle we found a pretty mall with some very ugly statues (crossed between a bear and a horse, made of lumpy clay and randomly spurting water into a rock) and a nice church of course. We bought ice-creams from Tiger (great shop), and I found an popcorn machine outside the video store which cost $2 for a bucket-full, made while you wait like the hot chocolate automats. It was fun, although I was scared the popcorn was going to fly out everywhere, especially as the box wasn’t provided until you paid, and the machine was warming up whilst I was hastily trying to unfold the damn thing and get it under the opening!
Back at the train station we bought chocolate bars for 80c each (Daniel bought 3, and paid for mine too), and took plenty of packets of free M&Ms and a complimentary bread roll each. We love DSB.
Next to Herning, where Daniel was pulled aside by a man with a clipboard and asked to fill out a survey about how much money he would like to earn for how many hours work, and other such questions I didn’t understand because they were in Danish so I just ate my second free bread roll. Also in the station kiosk were small plastic cups of red wine, from South Australia (the brand was Angoves) so we had to try it of course, despite not actually liking the stuff. Still, we felt cool!
We found the town mall and I played with the bubbles outside the toyshop, Daniel took photos of the churches and a glass pyramid like the one outside of the Louvre (although I’ll tell you for sure after I’ve been there!), and then I played in the sandpit… yeah, I liked Herning! We wandered around a bit longer then headed back to the kiosk (where the girl on the counter had changed so we could take more Maltesers, Daniel pretending we hadn’t been there before and feigning surprise: “Nåååå”, as the would Danes say) and then took the next train out to Aalborg, via Århus.
We were actually supposed to be in Aalborg at 2pm to meet with other (mainly) AFS exchange students living in Denmark, who had arranged a get-together as the trains were so cheap. We actually arrived at 6 (Daniel fretting the whole way that everyone would have gone home by then), called Michael to come find us, and met plenty of others running around the station with the characteristic slabs of beer in hand. Some we hadn’t met before stopped us as we got off the train and asked if we were exchange students, which freaked Daniel out until he realised he was carrying his AFS bag…
After buying our own beer, and finding Michael, we congregated in front of the carnival, which I had wanted to go to but thought it was only beginning the next day and no one else would/could come with me. Met a lot of people whose names I forget, and many of them were Spanish, or something like it, which was interesting. Talked mainly with two boys from Chili and another from America (his name was Erik, I know that at least, and he didn’t mind us picking on him being American). There was apparently another Aussie who had arrived in January, but I don’t think she was there. Daniel found some Brazilian tourists passing through and had a chat with him, and we also roped in a few Danes who were drinking outside too, and a Canadian who was working in Copenhagen for the year. Exchangies are so friendly!
We had to finish our beer before going into the carnival park, although they didn’t even check our bags which was disappointing because it was $6 a cup once in and I ended up buying two, and a “French hot dog” (exactly the same as normal hot dogs, except for in France where they are completely different). Inside there was a huge stage set up and a few acts with singing and sequins and whatnot, but we didn’t pay too much attention to it, too busy discussing accents (coolest: Scottish/Irish. Most romantic: Italian, followed by French. Most upper-class: British, although it can confusingly also be the most lower-class. Best English pronunciation: Australian, although I didn’t agree with that), alcohol (Chilean wine is the best, say the Chileans anyway), the importance of learning tricky ways to open beer bottles (i.e. with lighters, wedding rings, tables, other bottles – just don’t let them break in your hands like Erik’s did), and how Victorian I look (even though they didn’t exactly know where or what Victoria was, but when I said I was from there they were sure they felt that already!). We danced a bit, did a quick congo line, and I got to hold a cigarette for the 2nd time in my life (the 1st was in Denmark too) and manage not to have to smoke it.
Slowly out numbers dwindled as each regional group headed off to catch their train, and at 11:30 Daniel, a girl from Hong Kong, called Cherry, and I went and found one heading in our direction and settled down for an hour and a half train ride with a headache and no water (it was going to cost over $3 just for a small bottle!). When in Randers, Daniel called his host-mum who came and picked us up, and happily drove me home. Annie was still awake and watching a movie in bed, but I made myself a bread roll with lettuce (for some reason the parents going away meant we got bread rolls, bonus!) as the first decent food I’d had since the ham and lettuce roll I’d had for breakfast, “before getting my passport stamped, my brothers, at sleep's frontier and the stripy shest lifted to let me through” (had to get some Clockwork Orange in somehow, and there’s plenty more where that came from).
27-05
Got up at 9:30, had a shower, sorted the washing, and then went on the computer while waiting for Mum and Dad to call as planned, which they didn’t, so I went to town to see if I could buy something, which I couldn’t. Tried to find some new clothes shops, as the others never seem to have anything either nice or that fitted or that wasn’t too expensive (and the cheap stuff was always too thin material; almost see-through), and found a cool homewares shop instead, which I will have to visit again. At 1:25 I caught a yellow bus to try and find a shop I had seen on the way out to the op shop a few months ago, but either due to the renovations on the main street with the horse statue which meant the buses had to reroute, or just my plain bad memory (I caught the number 4, but maybe it should have been the 5 or 6. Or 1?), I rode the bus the whole way to the end of the route (when everyone else had got off except two women who left when we stopped, even though the button hadn’t been pressed which I thought was odd, until the driver turned around to stare at me so I figured I should leave too) and had to walk to the nearest bus stop to catch another bus back into town. One came along soon enough, the number 3, being driver by the same guy. “Hello again,” in Danish. He waved aside my bus pass.
Got back late enough for all the shops to be shut, except Føtex so I went and bought some bread rolls for my train trip to the airport on Monday (after much deliberation, as there were so many different kinds and I couldn’t understand the Danish label, I went for “yoghurt bread” because that’s the white loaf we have usually, but they’re not that nice) and some cream to make the packet-mix chocolate mousse I had bought a couple of days earlier. Once home I quickly whipped it up (once again some trouble with “decilitres” which are the in-between step from millilitres to litres – 1dl is 100ml), then cleaned the bathroom as requested, managed to fit in a phone call with the parentals (whilst watching the wild bunnies hopping across the field out the window) and some blogging before dinner was ready. Annie and Kristoffer served us (including Nicolas) chicken nuggets, chips, bread rolls and salad, and we had the mousse for desert with French champagne (provided by the Frenchman, strangely enough). I advise you not to go back and see how many days in a row, or weekends, I have had alcohol. And I can’t just blame the Danes either.

01-05
Whilst waiting for the bus I was witness to quite a near-road-accident: two cars tried to over take another at the same time as another was coming from the opposite direction. Beeeeeeeeeeeep! Who says the Danes are safe drivers?? Well, no one died I guess.
Annie was dying her hair that afternoon and had some leftover so now I have nice golden streaks through mine too. It was a little scary putting my faith in her (especially as she’s telling me to say it wasn’t her if it didn’t work out) but it turned out ok. I still haven’t had a hair cut either, but it’s like $40 and I’d rather just do it with the nail scissors…
02-05
In Sport we played indoor hockey, with plastic sticks and balls of course, but it was good fun and I finally worked up a sweat for the first time since cycling in Thailand. My team didn’t win but I got a goal once and helped a few other times (when one girl I didn’t know and I managed to get our first one in we couldn’t work out whether to high-5 or hug, so it was kind of an awkward half-embrace, but we both laughed anyway).
Went shopping after school and couldn’t find anything that fitted me very well, so bought Snoopy jocks instead (not sure if they will fit either because it is European sizing. But H&M loves Snoopy, and stock everything from socks, to pjs to perfume. Not sure why he’s so popular, but it’s cute anyway). At language school I used the teacher’s kettle in the other room to have free teas during the break, and afterwards met Annie on the bus coming home from visiting her boyfriend, Kristoffer. It was actually a good thing because she then asked the bus driver to stop just opposite our road and I didn’t have to walk the extra 300m from where the bus stop is (one day I’m going to go out in the middle of the night and dig it up, then replant it by our road because I swear we’re the only ones that use it so why does it have to be so far away!).
On the bus I was reading “A Clockwork Orange” which I found at the public library. Annie told me her class had recently watched the movie and also studied some of the book, and it could be on their exams. This surprised me, as the movie was banned for many years for its violent content, and Mr Rayner felt he couldn’t show it to us at school for fear of causing his own controversy. And here’s a group of 16 year olds reading it for English! Good on those relaxed Danes, they don’t mind a bit of swearing and violence and naked ladies…
03-05
In Danish we were split into two groups and had to name as many Hans Christian Anderson stories as we could. Oh, I mean H.C Anderson, as they call him here in their funny way. The first time someone asked me if I knew him (I only found out he was Danish when I decided to come here) I had no idea who they meant because they pronounce it like “Hoh See Ann-uh-son”. He wrote The Little Mermaid (Lille havfruen) and many surprising others. They’re very proud of him…
In Drama we had to write reports about our plays, and I managed to write a character report (yes that’s right, a detailed explanation about how it was to be a dead guy) in English, then translate it to Danish using the dictionary, then have Joey and Henrietta fix my mistakes. They said I was very good too! Don’t tell Birgitte!
On the walk home from the bus stop I pulled my scarf out from my bag and my bus pass dropped out with it. I didn’t notice but two women passing in a car honked at me and frantically pointed down, making me turn around (“what the??”) and see it. Daniel said the same thing has happened to him when he dropped his wallet; a guy honked at him and, when he didn’t understand, actually stopped and picked up to return it! They seem to be very honest people here, as shown when I left my wallet on the bus and it was delivered to lost property and I got it back the same day, all intact.
And tonight was the fatal night: Anne had to make dinner for the Danes. What did she make? Chicken schnitzel of course! I sent an emergency message to Mum the night before when Birgitte informed me of my assignment, begging for instructions but she didn’t come through with the information on time so I had to do it from memory. I peeled the millions of potatoes necessary for the 6 of us to have seconds as well, and Birgitte added the required amount of salt for Danish tastebuds (she told me off for not knowing how much to put in: “Anna, you have been living her for 3 months!) and put them on to boil (after cutting them for me, because I didn’t realise I had to do that either). Then I coated the chicken breasts in bread crumbs (with no added salt or pepper, to Birgitte’s amazement: “Oh you’re doing them like you do at home” Uh, well yes…) and hovered over them nervously whilst they cooked, checking them every 40 seconds to make sure they didn’t burn. When I flipped the first one over and saw the golden brown of a perfect schnitzel, it just felt like home! Anyhow, an hour and a half later (and 2 burnt fingers from picking up the plate that had just been in the oven) I was finally finished, and I was told (at least) that they tasted good. Tasted damn brilliant to me! Annie was adding salt to her vegies but that wasn’t my fault as Birgitte did them too (plus a sauce to put over the top, and of course she scolded me when I asked if it was done yet because it was meant to be all my responsibility although I didn’t even know what it was). We ate at 6:30 leaving plenty of time for me to get to dance (Charlotte has quit because she’s “too stressed”) but it turned out I was meant to be cycling there and Birgitte wasn’t too pleased about driving me the 2 minutes into Assentoft (on the way home she pointed out all the other cyclists saying “you’ll have to get used to the thought of riding places soon”). *Sigh*
04-05
Our first lesson was Spanish so I stayed outside the classroom on the computers, which meant I missed out on them singing Happy Birthday to Lennie and walking all over the tables which is some kind of Spanish tradition I guess. Oh well, I wouldn’t have known the words anyway.
In Naturfag we all sat outside in the sun – it was forecast 21ºC so everyone was in shorts and thongs and complaining about how warm it was!
At lunch we went to the storcenter for a Kon Tiki sandwich and Mars Bar ice-cream, and then sat outside school beside the “pond” listening to the music classes practicing for that night’s “Spring Concert”. The other exchangies (except Michael who wasn’t with us now) do music, so they had to go in and rehearse too, and I followed and then helped set up tables and chairs in the gym. Felt just like Variety Nights at home! You would think I’d had enough of “bumping in” with Mum and Dad, but no here I am volunteering to help!
When we’d done all we could, Mariana and I went back to the storcenter to a new shop that had just opened (and was doing a live radio broadcast – funny how the announcers never look like they sound), where I bought a jumper for $20 and got some free soap and a calendar, and Maz pinched the girl’s pen.
Back to watch the concert which was good of course, then to catch the bus into language school just in time for the break. Porn bought me a chocolate milk in a glass bottle from the vending machine (I only wanted to swap her for change but she paid the whole thing, she’s very nice!), then we went on the computers and I checked my email (we have a new Asian girl in our class, so she was getting most of the attention).
The bus driver remembered me and stopped the bus when I got up to go to the door a little before my stop which was nice of him. I was the only passenger most of the way home, until two got on in Assentoft so maybe we bonded then? There are only a few bus drivers to my route, so I am getting to recognise them and wonder if they know me too…
Went to visit Nicolas in his little apartment opposite the house, to try and get his number for Mariana (she hooked up with him at the school party and decided she quite liked him). We had a nice chat about the busy French (he doesn’t like their attitudes, and commented on how relaxed Knud was in comparison), drinking in school (you’d be in a lot of trouble if you did it there too) and language barriers (he is getting to understand my accent a little better, and wants to work in Australia or the USA sometime in the future), and he invited me to visit again sometime (if only for the English practice!).
05-05
In Drama we discussed each others plays, and dished out criticism where it was needed – I think they liked ours enough and Camilla even complimented me on my old dead guy impression, which was very nice of her. At lunch Maz, April, Dan and I went to McDonalds for McChicken burgers and McFlurries (you could only choose between Smarties and Daim) then back to school for the last and nicest Friday’s Café. Everyone was sitting outside on the grass beside the pond, drinking 5 kroner beer (that’s $1, Happy Hour all day) and listening to the band playing indoors, and it felt just like uni should. At 4 o’clock the free pizza arrived and I managed two pieces before having to go catch the bus home, as we had a birthday party to attend that evening. Cousin Joakim was turning 2 so it was out to Romalt (only 15 minutes away) for a large dinner of something stew-like with mashed potatoes (actually the first time I’ve had mash since I’ve been here I think) and salad, followed by cake, a walk around the block with Annie and a jump on the trampoline with Joakin and Nicolaj (I think his name was anyway. He was calling me Anna and Annie told him off, saying it was Ann-EH. I couldn’t tell the difference…). Then another cake, tea or coffee with chocolates, and a trip down memory-lane with Aunt’s scrapbook from her trip around Australia in 1987.
06-05
Finally, some travellin’! Daniel, Ilse and I were heading out to Skagen, the northernmost tip of Denmark, to see where two oceans meet (don’t ask me which two, coz they don’t seem to tell you that kind of thing in the brochure). Caught the 8 o’clock bus from my house to Randers, picking up Daniel from Assentoft on the way. We then waited 20 minutes for a city bus to come take us to the train station, as it hadn’t occurred to us that the bus we were on went there directly. We covered our faces when passing our bus parked outside the station, bought our tickets from the kiosk (I had to ask which platform it was because Daniel didn’t know how to pronounce the Danish word and didn’t want to look like a tourist!) and waited another half hour for the train to come. Found Ilse and her lollie stash, and settled down for the 2 hour trip out to Fredrikshavn, where we swapped trains for the further half hour to Skagen. On this train we conversed with a sweaty, middle-aged man who spoke Danish to Ilse and a mix of the two to Daniel (despite him answering in Danish), and I just looked out the window. On arrival in the town, with its “Skagen yellow” buildings and that special feeling of beachside living, we headed to the supermarket to buy chips and salad rolls, and then started walking in the direction we hoped “the point” was. After some time Ilse decided we should confirm it with a local (despite Daniel’s conviction that we should go back to the tourist information office to ask), but our instincts were right anyway.
The walk down to the beach was a few kilometres I think, and on the way we stopped at a random tower but didn’t go up because it was going to cost us 10 kroner ($2), and a mini golf course that had closed 10 minutes ago (I rang the buzzer anyway, ignoring Daniel’s fears of someone running out with a baseball bat or something, but nothing happened). It took us maybe an hour to walk (very slowly mind you) to the beach, and Ilse couldn’t handle it and stopped halfway to lie on the grass with her feet in the air coughing. Smile and wave to the people cycling past: “When are you going back to South Africa Ilse?” Anyhow, we made it eventually and in time to catch the “Sand Worm” (a large trailer with seats pulled by a tractor) for a bumpy ride out to the point. Once there we decided to wait and see if the mob of tourists would die down a little bit, so we found an empty space on the sand and had our lunch first (complete with picnic rug and squashed cake). After an hour or three of laying in the sun, on a Danish beach with a South African and a Brazilian (who would have dreamt?) we thought it was probably time to see what we came for, although it wasn’t as good as it should have been. The ever-present wind of Denmark made the sea a little choppy and the line wasn’t really visible (that’s if I was even looking in the right direction), so we just took some random photos of the sea and of each other and caught the next Sand Worm back to the kiosk (as we were leaving we watched three teenage girls trying to change into their bathers behind a towel so that they could run in the water up to their ankles and then run squealing out again, just as I predicted).
Ilse decided there was no way she was walking back into town, so she called a taxi and we were driven back in style (much to Daniel’s amazement but hey, she didn’t let us pay her so no complaints). At the station we got some Germans to take a photo of us and then trusted them when they told us to buy a 6 zone ticket back to Fredrikshavn (although we suspected we only needed 5). Once there we had an hour to wait for our train to Randers, so we went across the road to a church and Ilse read us the juicy articles from her gossip magazine. Ate a hot dog for dinner (despite being full of chips already), swapped trains at Aalborg (there were seagulls waiting at the station to take the next one back to the beach), told really bad jokes (some which didn’t work because I had to explain them) and got off in Randers with Daniel to wait another hour for our bus home. So lots of waiting around and too much walking, but I actually managed to go somewhere in Denmark, which is good! Only every other town left to go!
07-05
Woken at 10am by Birgitte and further disappointed her by forgetting to wash my sheets again and staying inside all day when the sun was shining so nicely. Opened the last of Chris Cook’s “survival pack” which read “A cure for homesickness” (although I wasn’t really, I swear!) and was delighted to find two Tim Tams. Ate one, saved the other for a rainy day.
After dinner I was sent outside to play with the soccer ball and basketball with Jens and Knud. Didn’t make too much of a git of myself, although I didn’t exactly get many goals either. Felt just like in the movies though, “shootin’ hoops” in the backyard! So that was nice.
08-05
Today was the last day of school for the third years, so we were greeted at the entrance by three costumed gangs with water pistols, bombs, buckets and the like. The group of us that had just got off the bus together were walking down the path when we all spotted them waiting at the end. Everyone just stopped dead in their tracks and started backing away, saying “nej nej!” I tried to stay hidden behind one of the girls but ended up being followed by girls pouring bottles of water down my shirt anyway with others squirting me from the sides. Stayed in the lobby with Mariana and April to see how everyone else fared, and pick out the ones with the sense of humour and the others hat just got stroppy. And laugh at the girls stupid enough to wear white pants of course!
Had our last English class for the year, and Mariana did a nice little goodbye speech and got everyone to sign her flag. I also made an impromptu thank-you (in English though, naturally) and we had a little chat with the teacher about the difference between schools and what we had expected of Denmark. Refer to blog: “…I can’t even imagine what it will be like over there, although I do have pictures in my mind” Well considering even the photos I was sent didn’t come close to the people they turned out to be, I guess there was just no way of knowing what was in store for me! No room for regrets but then again I’m not sure I’d recommend Denmark to a wannabe exchangie. Particularly not for just 6 months, as there really is no point in learning the language for that short a time…
In Geography I drew myself a business card on the blackboard because I was jealous of Marian handing out her Rotary-provided plastic-coated ones, and then sorted the country information books the class were using for projects into region, but ran out of time before I could sort them alphabetically. Ah the life of an exchange student. Then again, some of my classmates just sat around watching me so I can’t have been missing out on much!
After school we went to McDonalds again and then to eat our ice-creams in the sun by the river. The chocolate topping on a sundae did actually taste different, more like hot chocolate actually. So it’s a lie that Maccas is the same the world over! And more expensive here I think too, and they don’t put as much in the cup! Although that’s probably a good thing…
09-05
After writing that no one else used my bus stop, as I was waiting there this morning a woman got off on the opposite side and went into the house just beside me. So I guess she’d notice if I moved it…
In the library for the second class as there was no Drama today and I only came because Annie was home (she is doing exams now) and it’s easier to use the computers at school than borrow hers or Charlotte’s. I tried listening in History but we then we got our exam timetables and everyone was distracted for the rest of the class. Not everyone has exams in every subject, in general only the ones they are finishing with, so there were a lot of groans and grumblings, and everyone wished they were me. I did actually get a sheet of paper telling me to do the English exam, and I think it only consists of a translation (which you can use a dictionary for) and then an essay, but it’s all done on computers and ah who can be bothered! So that’s another day off school for me, plus all the classes that are cancelled because we’ve “had too many and the teacher doesn’t get paid for overtime” or just because no one wants to go to a class they don’t have an exam for.
We had Spanish next, with only half a class, and learned a little dance which was fun. I danced with Camilla and we did it in three different languages (one, two three/en, to, tre/un dos tres) and without stepping on each others feet either.
To the storcenter for pasta salad and to send a postcard (in one of those little red post boxes which was cool, although I hoped that there was no difference between the two and I still don’t trust putting a letter through a slot and it getting to the right place), then to Føtex to buy some cheap chicken for Brigitte (it was sold out), home, language school, and the bus stopping exactly opposite our driveway so I didn’t have to walk to far in the dark (which isn’t actually that dark as the sunset is still lingering around at 10:30 now).
10-05
Didn’t have the first class but got to school late anyway because Birgitte told me to clean the bathroom before going (she didn’t trust that I would do it on the weekend) and I wasn’t going to get up any earlier just to be at a class I didn’t participate in. Lucky too, as we were just sitting around by the computer and ended up going early anyway. To the storcenter again, this time with April and Mariana, to get pasta salad again, this time without bacon or dressing because I’m “watching my fi-gure”. Then to the library for another 21 CDs, the music shop for another CD and a DVD, and then McDonalds for dessert (I had a vanilla milkshake, thinking it would be better for me than a McFlurry, but the nutritional information said it wasn’t. I guess it’s pretty pointless pretending to be healthy at McDonalds anyway).
Wednesday had come around again, all too soon, and this time preparations were made early for me to cycle the way. We found me the same bike Anna had used two years ago, dusted it off and pumped up the tyres, and went for a test ride around the yard. Not so good at getting started but I did ok. Birgitte and Jens rode with me on the way down, so that I wouldn’t get too lost, and I only shamed myself when I had to dismount and push to get up the hill. Got to dance a little red in the face (realising why all the little Danish girls wear g-strings - major wedgie!), and not needing any more exercise for the day thank you very much, but the ride home wasn’t too bad and actually felt shorter (although we did get off and push again, why is it I can only find the hills in “flat” Denmark when I’m on a bike or running to the bus stop?). Even went to bed vowing to take up cycling in the future, and dreaming about all the places I could go riding at home, so that’s a good sign indeed!
11-05
Had Danish first class and, after following the rest of the class outside Maz and I stayed there until the teacher came to get us and told us to watch the movie about Hans Christian Anderson with them. Went to Mariana down to the bus stop, where we met Bille and I waved at all the cars (most of them waved back too, or the people in the cars did anyway) until I had embarrassed them enough. Then I practiced singing “The Incy Wincy Spider” in Danish on way to town, and couldn’t remember all the verses to “The Wheels On The Bus” but I don’t think anyone minded. After killing time around the shops until Bille could catch a bus home, we met up with April, bought kebabs and $30 worth of junk food, and went down to the river to wait for the others. They soon arrived and we really hit the chips and biscuits, before we were joined by some passing Danes who brought with them an American football and tried to teach us to throw it. At one point it ended up in the river, and, without hesitation, one of them stripped off to his jocks and socks and jumped in after it! And then, to complete the hilarity, he produced a tea towel from his bag to dry himself off, with the only explanation for its presence as “I spill things often”.
As more Danes arrived, bringing beer of course, we decided it was time to go so that I could make it to language school (and the others presumably had important places to be too). After said school, I walked to Ida’s house (her dad recognised me and said "G'day mate" again) and we had the typical pre-club beer drinking party, followed by a night out at Tante Olga and the like, lots of talk about the fabulous word “froth”, and then a 5:30 cab ride home in the cold.
12-05
‘Twas a lovely “summer” evening (ok, so spring but anyway), so Jens and I cleaned the outside tables and chairs in preparation for my first Danish “barbeque”. The meat (chicken and ox) was cooked on a flat grill, over a wood fire outside. Then potatoes and salad were brought out from indoors and we had the general 3 servings of everything, with bread rolls and red wine to go with. After dinner we made twisters over the pseudo-campfire, which had seats set up around it and sticks designated for that exact purpose. Yes, it’s something they do a lot (in case you don’t know what I’m talking about, twisters are bread dough wrapped around a stick and cooked over the fire). The Frenchman had never done it before coming to Denmark, but didn’t join in tonight because he was still recovering from eating so much food – in France it’s lunch that is the bigger meal so he had yet to adjust to going to bed on an overly full stomach. My twister burnt but so did Birgitte’s and she blamed too much sugar. But it still tasted good and was at least cooked, unlike sometimes at home when I would be so careful to keep it golden brown that the middle would still be doughy…
Then I filmed Annie riding on her horse to sell on the internet (go here, scroll down and click on “Videoklip”), and got to have a quick ride too (I’m in the clip too! Now you have to go watch it!), relived in on the tellie and went to bed.
13-05
After Mum and Dad called in the morning, I made a cake with Charlotte and awaited the arrival of Mariana and Daniel for a day of excitement at my house (as desired by Birgitte actually, who was upset that I hadn’t invited anyone over. I argued that I didn’t like to do that, even at home, but I was told I was “in Denmark now” and so when the opportunity came to remedy my wrong-doing, I grabbed it with both hands). After taking pictures of each other beside my wind turbine, we watched the end of a movie Mariana wanted to see on TV, and ate the left-over junk food from Thursday’s picnic. Then we went for a walk out to the “forest” behind our house, to find that it wasn’t really a forest after all and you couldn’t even go into it. Then Birgitte came out and suggested we have a go on Jen’s go-kart, and Mariana in particular had a ball tearing up the driveway! Daniel was not so sure, and puttered along only once before declaring that he didn’t want to be sent home (our exchange organisations prohibit the driving of any machine with an engine. I promised not to tell but he’d had enough anyway) and electing to take photos instead. Then we stoked up the fire and made twisters again, mine a little less burnt this time, and the Frenchman joined us but couldn’t keep up with the speedy conversation.
Back inside to eat my cake and then walk Maz to the bus stop and give Daniel hazy directions to cycle home, and then another movie (a weird Palestinian one that I had actually seen two years before on SBS) before bed.
14-05
Birgitte got me up a little after 10 and told me that the Frenchman (I guess I should start calling him by his name sometime!) and I were going on a road trip that day, to see some of Denmark together. Two hours later I went down to find him almost ready, so we got in the car, checked the map and set off. First we went to the ports at Århus and took photos of the boats and general industrial goings-on, before heading through Rønde to a sort of ruined fort thing (Birgitte told me what it was called but it was a little too Danish for me to remember) which we had to walk along a rocky path beside the sea to get to. There was a very pretty view of the sea and the green fields and the Danish rooves and such, and it was all quite nice if you ignored the bone-chilling wind that constantly thrashed us as we walked puffing and sniffing up the hill. On the way through to Ebeltoft we stopped at a cute church, a windmill (also saw two like the ones we have in Australia), a hill with a view but no escalator, a rocky beach (and rice bubble muesli bars for lunch) and passed various little towns in between without getting too lost. We talked often about our countries and also Denmark (he agreed that the Danes were not overly friendly, nor did they speak enough English for him to improve as much as he’d hoped), but it was sometimes hard as I had to speak very carefully so he understood. He wanted to know whether we drove French cars, and what our major exports were, how the weather was now, whether we have many forests… he told me they have BBQs in France too, more like ours than Danish ones, and about how too many rich Aussies buying houses in the Alps was pushing the locals out, and agreed that the excessive flying of the Danish flag was a little mystifying (“at least you know you’re still in Denmark!”). He likes France the best, but thinks Sweden is nice and would like to work in the USA, Australia and Poland in the future. He also offered to drive me anywhere if I ever needed, and invited the three of us girls to dinner at his place this Saturday. So who says the French are arrogant and rude?!

18-04
Reluctantly back to school, and after a week of holidays the dedication was just no longer there: in Naturfag we were out of class doing projects, Mariana and I skipped Sport because she didn’t have her clothes, and we wagged English altogether to go drink hot chocolate in our favourite little café and then were enticed to buy an ice-cream by the smell of wafer cones cunningly wafting down the mall and the line of people outside the shop (the ice-cream shops open in April, ready for spring, and it seems the Danes certainly miss it!).
In the evening I had language school again, and the class was 4-people strong until break time when one of them left. It was pretty dodgy as the teacher is not so good at English and couldn’t explain some of the grammar etc, but we learn how to say “I like potatoes. Do you like potatoes?” so that was 3 hours well spent.
The drama for the night was when we were let out 5 minutes early, which meant I could make it to the 9:25 bus instead of hanging out for half an hour with the smelly old men in the waiting room. My luck turned sour 20 minutes into my ride, as I realised we should have been nearing my stop… had I missed the round-a-bout? Surely the zone number displayed beside the time should have changed by now? Were they our windmills out the window, barely visible in the dark? And since when was there a two-storey house there? I’ve not looked into that window before! Perhaps we were taking a late-night detour through the back roads?
I asked a girl sitting in front of me where we were, in my best Danish as she claimed not to speak English although I think she was lying, or perhaps just being modest. I pointed out Slyngborg on the bus timetable and she shook her head despondently and admitted that she didn’t think we were going there. So I pressed the button and ambled up to stand beside the door, but it was a few more minutes before we reached the next bus stop. Here I asked the nice lady driver where the hell we were, and she wrote down “Grund” on a piece of paper for me… I thanked her and got off the bus quickly, before I managed to get even further away from home. Grund was a quiet little town, with my little wooden bus shelter, an old hall and the house opposite the only signs of inhabitation I could see. So I called Birgitte and who promised to come save me soon, and didn’t seem to mind too much, telling me that Anna had done the same thing once when she was here. I guess I’ll just wait that extra half hour at the bus terminal next time...
19-04
Our first class of the day was Naturfag, and it was just like Chemistry used to be: everyone else had their Bunsen burners set up and were heating various chemicals whilst Mariana and I sat on the desks and chatted, with no idea what was going on. Apparently projects or something…
Then in Danish Mariana and I were told off when we brought out a magazine to occupy us whilst the rest of our class were educated – they were apparently beginning a study of the Romantic era and we had to write down what we knew about it (nothing) and what we’d like to know (um, nothing?). After this she proceeded to teach in Danish so I didn’t learn anything much at all, and spent the rest of the lesson fighting with Maria who took great pleasure in writing “Anne er dum” wherever she could…
After school I went to the shops in Randers, for no reason, and saw April, Mariana and some of the girls from dance classes. It’s not safe for me to go out anymore, people know me! At home I had quite a lengthy conversation with Birgitte in Danish, which was pretty cool as long as she doesn’t make me do it too often! I think they have forgotten about the whole “stop with English” thing so I’m happy just to be able to understand more but speak little (I showed a woman in town where the toilet was which made me feel clever, although I only pointed the way and it was by luck that I heard “toilette” at the end of her question. So maybe I’m not so good…)
20-04
Ilse convinced me to go to town for hot chocolate during Danish (that’s right, I’m blaming her!) and as we passed the teacher on the way out I tried to keep my head down and act inconspicuous… naughty me I know. But it was a nice afternoon – Ilse told me about a story she is writing (she likes to talk and I don’t mind listening hehe) and then the other exchange students arrived and we tried to plan when we could see some of the sights of Denmark.
Language school again in the evening: our first time with Thursday’s teacher, who speaks much more English and therefore we were happier. We learnt “I eat…” resulting in a right whinge from April and I about all the Danish food we don’t like (such as marzipan and rye bread and open sandwiches and excess oil), much to the teacher’s amusement.
21-04
We had school “athletics” in the afternoon which turned out actually to be a big volleyball tournament between the first and second years (thirds had their own match apparently). Each class was split into 3 teams and we all played each other which was quite fun although my team won 0 out of 4 games (the fourth was only 10 minutes long because someone lost the ball in the roof, but I think we could have won that one)…The word of the day was “sådan!” meaning “that’s right!” and shouted as loud as possible anytime something good happened. One of my class’s teams made it into the grand final, and dressed in matching Adidas shirts they looked very intimidating and rightly so! They played the winners of last year’s tournament, and sealed their reputation as top dogs by combining their victory at the outdoor athletics earlier in the school year, with a fantastic win again today. I was very proud, and scored a few beer at Friday’s Café for our collective triumph – that’s right, the time had come once again to consume copious amounts of fermented vegetable products within the confines of a school building, whilst being entertained by alpha males attempting to get the end of a string tied around their waist into the bottle below for a free beer… Oh, and eating popcorn too. After managing 3 beers (at $2 each then half-price Happy Hour, hence the “cheaper than water” line) we decided to go to town and get a kebab (cliché!) and then to a café for a muffin and some ice-cream. There we sat for an hour or so chatting and playing with my money, until Ilse took it off us (and forgot to give it back; she rang up that night very apologetic) and we decided we should go home.
(Facts for the day: 1. Billabong is a very popular brand in South Africa. Ilse has a wallet so branded. 2. Brazil can be scary. Two men robbed Mariana’s house a couple of weeks before she left for Denmark, whilst the family and their German exchange student were home, taking their money and the contents of the safe – well the fake one anyway, as this is obviously such a problem that a family would take the precaution of having a safe filled with mock jewellery and papers – and threatening her life… great party story eh?)
22-04
Mum and Dad call for a chat in the morning and let me go just in time to run to the bus stop but still have 2 minutes to spare. First to go shopping and spend all the money Mum just put in my account, and, when the shops shut at 2 leaving me still unfulfilled, I went to Føtex and couldn’t help but buy a Tamagotchi (come on, I’ve wanted one for ages!). So I bought a doner kebab and found some bench seats in the sunshine to eat it and figure out the Danish instructions for my new friend and class-time entertainment. It’s not actually that great because most of the features require use of the new “communication” feature where two pets can talk to each other via infrared, but I don’t know anyone else stupid enough to have one! But anyway, it made me happy for a bit!
Met with April, Daniel, Mariana and Michael for the former’s birthday party – bowling (I won the second game but only got one strike the whole time and didn’t match half of Mariana’s first score. Damn that uneven floor!), and pool (Michael convinced us to go to this place which is 10 or so pool tables set up in a room for people to play at, paying by the hour. It was kind of weird, and we were the youngest there of course!), then pizza and drinks at her place. Our original plan was to go into town after dinner, but a few vodkas later and we couldn’t really be bothered so we just stayed in her room, listening to music and eating ice-cream (the brand “Streets,” we have decided, is damn everywhere just with a different name – Australia, Brazil, Denmark, Germany, Thailand… so I want shares in that company!) until 4am.
23-04
I slept over at Mariana’s and spent the day with her, watching Harry Potter and then flicking aimlessly between the Sunday sports channels, broadcasting only car and motorbike racing for the whole afternoon. She then promoted her little country by showing me her photo albums and pretty pictures in books she had brought, making me want to visit of course! (Fact: on your 15th birthday in Brazil some people have a huge party to celebrate. It’s quite similar to our deb balls but all the focus is on you – or you and your twin sister if you are Maz. The girl wears a white dress and a mask, and lots of people are invited to dance and party in a big hall with their good clothes on. There are also 15 close friends chosen of each gender, who wear masks and suits and signify the 15 years thus far, and after that you can go out on the town like a big kid!)
24-04
In English we listened to a radio play the class made last year, then in Geography Mariana fixed my “clicker pencil” for me (retractable pencils, as they're technically called, were always a novelty for me – I had a Harold one, you know the giraffe from the Life Eduction bus we all used to love so much, and I don’t know what happened to it. But here they all use those pencils and Mariana tells me they use them in Brazil too, so when mine was jammed because Ilse put too many leads in it, I decided she would be the expert capable fixing of it and she did. Yay).
Then Ilse and I went into town to the library, to return April’s video and then to get hot chocolate again where the waitress remembered us and knew what we wanted. Uh oh, we’ve become regulars! Afterwards when we were waiting at the ATM to get money out, we overheard two girls speaking English together so Ilse asked them where they were from (one from Mexico “but I’m not Mexican or anything” and the other from Denmark) and we swapped numbers and they asked us to come out with them sometime. Who says it’s hard to meet people?!
After buying a set of walkie talkies from Føtex for a justifiably cheap price (standing at either end of the escalators I had better chance of hearing Ilse if she just talked normally) we played a round of mini golf (she won, but she cheated), ands oon it was time for Ilse to go to music lessons (singing and flute). She convinced me to drop her off, go to the library and then come back and walk with her to the bus and, being the loving friend I am I did this, despite the uphill climb which left me wearing just a t-shirt and jeans – but I’m not complaining! Come on summer!
25-04
In Drama I was given the honourable role of Tove’s murdered husband, which having my face painted white and talcum powder poured liberally into my hair, then being wheeled onto the stage on a chair to sit dead for the last 5 minutes of the play. Finally, my chance to shine! Turned out the performance was that night, so I only had one practice to perfect my character and learn the tricks to concealing my breathing beneath a pillow-made stomach…
I skipped History with Joey to go to the storcenter (hey they have a website!) and eat pasta with chicken and shake my Coke up accidentally so it went everywhere and I had to hold it over the fountain to stop it getting on the floor. Afterwards we went to Tiger, the awesome cheap shop, and bought a Mars Bar ice-cream which was damn delicious.
After school we had to prepare for the performance of our plays (hey, our school has an elevator! For wheelchair access but we went in it when we used it to get my prop-chair), but first to Kon Tiki for huge and messy chicken roll with the girls (6 of us in a car, with Joey in the boot. And in the car park I saw a Volvo with windscreen wipers on the headlights!). Back at school I was made-up again, watched the 1st play and performed 3rd. It was actually quite a disaster! I was told later that everyone forgot their last few lines and Joey tripped over the set and there was certainly a lot of laughing going on – I say “was told” because I kept my eyes shut and stayed dead whilst this catastrophe was playing out – me being the great actor I am! But there’s nothing worse than corpses rising in the middle of the show just because one actor is destroying the furniture…
Straight after our performance I had to quickly grab some paper towel to scrub my face off, and run to the storcenter bus stop to catch the bus to language school – it was raining a little and when I did make it there puffing and panting, we idled for another 3 minutes anyway.
I arrived at language school a little late (which was expected because we had performed at 7:30) and couldn’t find my class. After walking up and down the empty corridors, pausing at the doors straining to hear voices or see any movement within, I gave up and went and had a hot chocolate from the canteen downstairs (and then I had a cold orange tea using the free teabags they had there, so when I burped it tasted like jaffa. Ok, you didn’t really need to know that). On my way out at 9:20 I met one in my class, Porn who comes from Thailand, and she told me they were in a downstairs computer room I didn’t even know existed. Oh well.
Katrine was on the bus on the way home, and also a man sitting opposite us who heard me say I’d been to language school and reminded me to speak Danish – as if I didn’t get enough of that at home! I said “farvel” to him when he got off anyway.
26-04
Went to dance teacher Birgitte’s house for a break-up dinner of lasagne. We then voted for continuing dance lessons anyway.
27-04
On the way to school each day there is a point where the road splits and the bus can either go straight into the city, or detour past our school. It only goes to school a few times on weekdays, but this morning the driver forgot and kept driving into Randers. The cry of “aiiii!”, which is a Danish exclamation, arose from the passengers, and one went up the front to tell our driver of his error. I always wondered if that would ever happen… On the extra detour subsequently made to get back to school we passed a “drive in solcentre” which looked like a shipping container parked outside the petrol station, presumably with a sun-bed or two in it. To me it’s just weird.
We performed our play again in Drama, this time for one of the classes in our year level. We got it right this time! And I only swallowed twice (as inconspicuously as I could)!
April and I brought along some Vegemite to language school that evening, and forced Porn and our teacher (I think her name is Kirsten) to try it. The latter actually liked it, or at least didn’t hate it like most people do. She said it was “really special…” I had one little sachet in the fridge at home and Birgitte was all too happy to let me take it! I still have a couple left for next time I am feeling homesick for that great Australian spread. It’s great stuff really!
28-04
I'd had a cold for the last couple of days and when Birgitte came into my room to ask if I was going to school (I actually had the first class off but forgot to tell her) she decided I could stay home, as I only had Sport anyway. So I watched a movie I had borrowed for the library and drank lots of tea (I never drank tea before coming here but now I do often, and I can’t remember ever saying I liked it! Oh well, I can pretend I’m being healthy for a moment!)
Tonight was the “Spisning” down at the town hall – where the people of Langkastrup get together and eat stew and potatoes (seconds were produced hot from the kitchen, so it mustn’t just be my family that eat a lot!) and drink beer. Oh here’s a sad story: when we arrived at the hall – a full car of my host family, host cousin Mai-Britt, and the Frenchman – everyone got out of the car and the doors where shut and locked before I had a chance to get out too! And no one even noticed! As they didn’t hear me knocking (or swearing), I had to climb into the front seat and unlock the door from the inside, then run to catch up to them, obliviously taking their jackets off in the hall’s foyer. Oh, what it is to be loved!
I was heading to the “gymnasium fest,” the school’s last party for the year, and Annie decided that she should like to come too, so Nicolas was invited also and we caught the bus into town at about 8:30. There we met Mariana, Ilse, April and her classmates all appropriately dressed in the theme of gangster. I was a little slack in the costume department, with no more than a gun borrowed for Jens and an op-shop tie which Annie stole, but Birgitte had not been to enthused when I mentioned the theme and it was too late for Annie to protest that should would have loved to help find me something. Ahh well. But lots of people had gone all out, with suits and cigars, feather boas and fishnet stockings, and there was even a wheelchair-ridden Mafia boss rolling around. There was the usual dancing and drinking (Nicolas bought Breezers for us all night, as I think he wanted to see Annie get sick after she had boasted that it had not happed to her yet), a live band playing swinging music and toasted sandwiches at 12am. The party wrapped up at 2, and there turned out not to be a bus going my way so it was lucky Annie came because she bravely called Knud who came and saved me a taxi fare.
29-04
Spent the day teaching one of our Grease dances to Mai-Britt and Annie, for the confirmation party tomorrow. In the evening we watched the Olsens (old Danish comedy series) whilst eating popcorn (something they seem to do often actually). Then went to bed.
30-04
Cousin Theresa was confirmed today, a big deal here in Denmark for the 13 year old girls who want to wear a white dress and get lots of attention (sounds a bit like our deb balls). We skipped the church bit and went straight to the after-party, 2 hours drive away (closer to 3 on the way down as we missed the turn-off), although of course I don’t know the name of the town or anything like that.
It was held in a big room with two large tables plus one for all the presents she got (a laptop and a mobile phone from Mum and Dad, just for saying she’s still fine with being a Christian. Not to mention all the lovely gifts and 2000kroner notes from the other 40 guests). After a large meal interrupted frequently by “skål” and “hoorah!” and little songs relatives had written for her, we performed our dance, which went without a hitch. Then we had another round of dessert (or two rounds for most people), played Pictionary, and even did some folk dancing (that was a bit of a surprise, when 4 girls decked out in the old clothes appeared and started dancing, then tried to teach the rest of us how to do it. Hrm, I’m not so good at the polka but Knud and I had the “clap-clap-clap, bow and lift” bit down-pat. And I didn’t hit my head on the roof. Nothing like a bit of prancing around to work off multiple desserts).

03-04
Up at 5:15 to be at school at 6:30, and for a very good reason – class trip to Berlin! 11 hours of bus ride, iPod, Danish movie (although there was something wrong there because there was no sound and the picture was a little too fast), Uno, lollies and our first German toilet stop, which cost us 20 Euro each, paid into the china plate at the door which was watched carefully by the toilet door-bitch.
We were staying in a hostel in Charlottenburg, 4 to a room (I was with Camilla, Mette and Katrine) and shared bathrooms on each level (with 2 toilets, 2 curtained showers and a sensor-operated paper towel-dispenser). After choosing beds and putting our clothes in the attractive metal lockers we independently went in search of dinner. We swapped Mette for Mariana and found a cheap Italian restaurant, where Katrine and Camilla shared a pepperoni pizza which turned out to have whole green peppers on it, not the sliced meat they were expecting. We then visited H&M (clothes shop, also found in Denmark), and then bought ice-creams (Camilla ordered in German, but the man was happy to converse in English with we who were not so capable). After hanging out in one of the rooms until 11, finding it harder to concentrate on the Danish conversation, I gave in and went to bed.
04-04
The tap in the shower was one like at some sinks, which you pull up and rotate towards the hot or cold side to regulate the temperature. That was good except I kept bumping the handle and turning the water off. My shower was cut short when the water turned cold for no good reason, but this was probably a good thing because I could have stayed in there all day.
After a free breakfast of bread rolls and chocolate mousse we all met in the “courtyard” (the dirt square between the foyer and the rooms, ornamented with a dumpster and a dead tree) and caught the train into the city together. We visited a church or two, got a little lost but quickly recovered, and then caught another train into Checkpoint Charlie, which wasn’t very exciting. Put one foot each side of the line the Berlin wall ran, which no doubt a million others have done before, and didn’t feel any great stirring within me.
Next to the Museum of Commuciation , which would have been quite interesting if it was in English… nevertheless there were lots of buttons to press, a few couches to rest on and, most importantly, free internet.
We then split off into our own little groups, visited the Sony Centre (Mariana the architect was quite impressed: pretty lights and glass) and had lunch at the Australian restaurant there. Well, most of us had dessert first (something I have always wanted to do): the delectable “Death by Chocolate” – 3 chocolate brownie triangles with chocolate ice-cream and cream. We didn’t need lunch after that. Upon paying the bill we were told that a tip was expected, which made it a little more difficult to work out who owed what, but I think we pulled it off without anyone being too ripped off…
We walked off any excess calories on the way to the “Story of Berlin” museum, accidentally seeing a lot of Berlin by getting lost and arriving finally an hour late. Some of our group had the courage to ask the Germans for directions, although it didn’t help when many of them didn’t know the place existed. It was hidden in a mall, although knowing this probably wouldn’t have helped us anyway.
That night we ate at the restaurant adjacent to the hostel (it’s funny when a Dane is speaking to me in English and then goes to speak to another Dane and they can’t switch back to their own language. This happened a few times on the trip, and on this night Camilla ordered her meal in German she then spoke to me in German too! It took us both a moment to realise, and for her brain to choose which language she should be talking to me in!). After dinner (I chose the Wiener schnitzel; traditional German food plus I just like schnitzel) we went to a ahem with a $20 entrance fee and free drinks until 12. This made for a fun night, to put it one way…
05-04
The day began this time with a cold shower that turned hot… maybe things were looking up? The partier-goers of the previous night were not so enthusiastic about life, as their stomaches and heads tried to teach them a little lesson about alcohol and late nights. We were forced to “walk it off” on the hike through the back alleys of Berlin (Fact: cigarette advertising is common here, huge billboards etc) to the Dokumentationszentrum Berliner Mauer for a freezing “tour” in German (hence I am not sure what it was about) and a view from a tower. We split up again and found our way (eventually) to a mall with a food court, to console ourselves with burgers and fries. Then the train to Deutches Technikimuseum where we were apparently doing projects, but I just amused myself in the Spectrum science centre by pressing all the buttons and trying to read the German explanations.
The evenings entertainment was a stage show by a trio called Blue Man Group. It was amazing. Go to that website and watch the video because there really is no way to describe it! Lights, music, paint, UV, comedy, screens, masses of crepe paper… we were seated in the front row where plastic raincoats had been provided for us. Cautiously we put them on, and throughout the show we hastily checked we were unexposed every time they played with water, or brought out a large hose, or stared menacingly at the audience. But the moment of their use was completely unexpected – a girl was brought out from the audience (one of the men, who were all painted blue of course, climbed over the seats to find her, although we suspect it was set up) and the 4 players sat at a table doing, well, funny things. Then suddenly the suspicious looking hole in the front of the blue men’s shirts started to spray something cold and wet and sticky into the audience… it was mashed banana, nauseatingly smelly and fast becoming glue on our trousers, faces and the floor. It was incredibly gross, and quite cheeky. Needless to say, we were teasing dry banana out of our hair for the rest of the night…
After a stop at the mall toilets, which I neglected to pay for although this time it was real service including the toilet-seat being wiped after every use, it was back to the Aussie restaurant for dinner. We ordered all our food at the same time, main course and dessert, but the waitress brought the ice-cream out first and was a little offended when we asked if she could just put it back in the freezer whilst we ate our lukewarm tomato soup… so to avoid confusion we gave in and ate both courses at the same time… they didn’t get a tip this time…
06-04
Happy birthday to me… no one in my room knew it was actually, so I didn’t get my first “happy birthday” until after my shower, when Michelle and Stine burst in and sang for me. After breakfast I went to try and call home (as Mum had ordered me to, so I bought a phone card by myself the night before. Luckily there was a man in the shop who spoke English, because the employee didn’t… well, we figured out what I wanted eventually), but only got to talk to Kate because no one else was there. Oh well.
We caught the train again (on the way I saw “happy b’day” spray-painted on the underside of a bridge, which I thought was nicely ironic. There is quite a lot of graffiti around, but I guess that’s normal for a big city), to a small town where we had some time to kill before our boat trip down the river Spree (Birgitte and Maria generously decided to speak English for me, and we went to a bakery to have a chocolate muffin which was delicious).
A schnitzel lunch (as I would have done at home, at least for dinner. Many of the Danes didn’t know what it was, so I proudly explained its greatness), 300 photos and 2 verses of “Happy Birthday” later, we were back where we started, with time to catch the train and get a “Turkish pizza” (more like a wrap) before meeting at the Alt Nationalgalerie. We were each given a headphones and an electronic walkman that could explain the meaning of any painting with a number beside its name, and left to wander around in our little worlds looking at art work and getting lost in the labyrinth of rooms.
Back home eventually and to Tuesday’s restaurant to eat again, where we scared a lot of the customers away with three different versions of “Happy Birthday” (two in Danish), and plenty of “Skål!” and “Cheers!” Bought my first beer as an 18 year old, and still didn’t like the taste but was advised to have another anyway because they would be cheaper here than at the clubs. So, red in the face and sucking on my broken lollipop (I had tried to clink another’s beer bottle during one round of “cheers” but didn’t know my own strength and it snapped in half…), I took the 3 red roses Michelle bought me back to my room and we were off to nightclub Q-Dorf: 2000m2, 13 bars, 4 discos. Not all of it was opened though, being a Wednesday night. We had been given a free group pass by the hostel, and managed to snavel another one to sell to a group behind us in the queue. Once in, Michelle, Mariana and I annoyed one barmaid for a while, buying beers and eventually Smirnoffs because I was tired off shuddering after every sip. We met some more Danes, one of whom was also having a birthday, and danced and drank and watched the strippers (sex sells in Germany, by the looks of their billboards). At one point there was a muscly black guy “dancing” on stage, and he pulled out a bottle of sticky pink cocktail and poured it into the mouths of the eager little girls in the front rows. Then he gave it to the crowd, and we politely shared it around which was pretty strange!
We left at 2am and stopping in at Burger King for chips, and then waiting at the station for 25 minutes for a train that never came. We tried at another station but two security guards told us that the next train wasn’t coming until 6am, so we decided to try a night bus instead. We found one of these eventually, but drove right through our town and had to rely on a young German guy with a can of beer who promised us he could help. We waited at the next bus stop in the cold for far too long, and he thought it was hilarious to tell us the bus was coming and watch us scramble out of the shelter only to find he was kidding. Eventually a bus came and took us back to where we should have been, although we still had to walk for half an hour through the deserted streets until we reached our hostel (Maria wearing only stockings on her feet, because charitably gave her shoes to Katrine, who hadn’t betted on needing hiking boots that night). At long last, and to my relief because I am always wary of well-meaning strangers, he bid us goodnight and we were free to go to bed at last…
07-04
Cruelly woken at 8am because we had an early train to catch, but wasn’t feeling too badly so it was ok (although when I was going upstairs to the showers there were two Italian men there and they said “mamma mia” so I guess I didn’t look to good… and then I fell in up the stairs front of them and really embarrassed myself!). We were out at the Sanssouci (Camilla translated this as “no worries”) castle for another fascinating tour in German, although at least this time it was indoors. Mariana and I amused ourselves by watching tourists take photos from outside, and pulling faces through the windows (although there was no way they could see us, as proved when the girl turned to face us and check her hair in her reflection).
Called Mum while we were waiting for the train, and she was home at last. Many of us went to bed when we got back to the hostel, whilst the others went out and spent all their money. I tend not to buy souvenirs, and more just hoard as many free brochures as I can. Thanks for that gene, Dad.
That evening we all had dinner together at an Italian restaurant, although we didn’t exactly fit at one table. There was some money left over from the class’s fund-raising efforts, so both food and drinks were shouted, but unfortunately I found this out afterwards or else I could have ordered the more expensive pizza! Ham and cheese will do fine I think.
A group of us went back to the Australian restaurant for “Death by Chocolate,” as Mariana had given up on her chocolate-free Lent and decided it was time to join in the fun. Only we two could eat the whole thing, plus an extra brownie from some of the weaker Danes…
Whilst waiting for the train to go home we had fun learning a bit of German – “Ich bin doch nicht blöd” meaning something like “I am not stupid.” It was on a billboard and we took great pleasure in chanting it over and over, which must have sounded quite strange to any eavesdropping Germans! (Fact: in German all the nouns have capital letters. Bonus Fact: television shows are quite often dubbed, opposite to Denmark which only does this for children’s animations, and even then you can still find a cinema showing the kid’s movies with just subtitles if you try. But it was sure funny watching South Park in German!)
08-04
Up at 7am to begin the long journey back to cold, wet Denmark (strangely enough it began to rain as we neared the border, just as it had been raining when we crossed it a week previously). In the foyer an Asian couple asked me where I had bought my Volkswagen bag, thinking it must have been in Germany. They were a little disappointed when I told them it was Thai. There were lots of cute Beetles on the streets, both old and new (in one car park there was one of each and both in orange), and plenty of lovely sports cars too…
So then a relatively boring bus ride, in which I shared my iPod with Mariana and ate Pringles… at one point Anders (our English and also the music teacher) brought out his guitar and we sang various Danish, German and English songs (they like the Beatles too I think). It reminded me of primary school, our sing-a-longs in Mr H’s class all those years. Ahh, happy days.
There had obviously been some plotting done in my absence because, when I returned home, the family were speaking mostly Danish to me and Birgitte told me I had to stop speaking English. I think I will just become very, very quiet…
09-04
A family breakfast together, I think it was for my birthday, except Annie was not there because she had misread the bus timetable and couldn’t get home from work (she cleans at the supermarket, and also helps disabled kids ride horses). Aunty Sue called (after much trouble, including a run-in with our answering machine and a confusing dialtone) and talked very fast because we were going out. After a quick lunch we packed into the car and drove to Ebeltoft to see the Fregatten Jylland, a historical boat and museum. We walked around the decks and then looked at a whole lot of paintings of ships, before sitting through a 20 minute movie in first German and then Danish, whilst waiting for the English version to start.
A drive along the coast to a “round tower” (kind of a lighthouse I think) and a longer-than-expected walk to a German lookout from the war, before heading to Århus for dinner at a French restaurant (as Romain is leaving soon). No, we didn’t eat snails. Just a fish starter, ox (I think) and vegetables main course, followed by heavy chocolate cake for dessert. And the waiter didn’t even speak French (much to Knud’s disappointment I think because he wanted to show off what Romain had been teaching him).
10-04
To town in the afternoon (by the way, we have a week’s holiday over Easter) to meet a Brazilian friend of Mariana’s who is on exchange in Denmark too. We picked her up from the train station and went to buy a doner kebab each for lunch, which we took to a little hedged area by the dock to eat. We then went to the supermarket and debated buying beer, but ended up with Coke instead (to my delight). Next we walked across the big steel bridge and sat for a while by the river in the sunshine, which reminded us all of our own warm countries, and then followed the little stars on the brick path to the tourist “hotspots” of Randers. But the church was shut and we got bored, so Mariana’s friend wandered through the shops and Daniel got a little restless (particularly in the jewellery shop, but who can blame him) and we decided it was time to go home to watch TV.
11-04
Got up at 11 and had a toasted sandwich for lunch because only Jens was home to see. Charlotte was off learning how to run the petrol station, where she has recently got a job.
Went to language school at 6:30 for my first real class, which wasn’t as good as I’d hoped. Our class consisted of April (who has been going since she arrived but her class was just split into two and she was put with me in the lower level), a professional football player from Brazil (Mariana told me later she had met him before in a sports store, when she heard him speaking Portuguese and went over to talk to him. He doesn’t speak English and our teacher thinks he speaks Spanish so that makes it difficult to explain things! She’s not so good at English either I think), and 3 older girls (from Thailand and two other places I didn’t catch). We did the “where do you come from” and “how old are you” thing before moving to the computers and matching pictures to phrases. We finished at 9:20 but my bus didn’t leave until 10:06 so I had to wait at the bus terminal by myself (with my iPod at least). And then it rained on the walk home, but weak drizzling Danish rain that isn’t very wet…
12-04
At 12:30 I went into Randers to buy some new (bigger) jeans. In the change room there was a little sign saying something like “you are welcome to use this room but…” and I couldn’t make out the rest. The meaning became apparent when the girls who worked there kept walking through to get to their storeroom, first “knocking” at the curtain and asking to come in so I just had to say “ja” and hope that was the right answer! I didn’t buy anything there anyway.
Finished with a jumper, a pair of 50% off pants from H&M and a pair of jeans that were too long but the only option. Went to the same kebab shop as Monday, and the guy was speaking English and asked where I was from. Went down to the dock again, where I sat on a plastic bag on the wet seat (that lovely weather from Monday was a one-off, crazy Danish spring) to eat.
Next to the library (on the “adult” computers now which means I can stay for two hours!), but only managed to write one line of blog because there were people on MSN (I am actually writing this a week later). Talked to Daria who is in Spain, and she sounds like she’s having a good time and not homesick either which is a relief for us after such foreboding threats from Southern Cross… perhaps I should say “yet” for her because she still has 8 months to go! I don’t think I mind going home after only 6, although I feel bad whenever anybody asks why! I think April thinks I’m chicken… ha, maybe I am but I’d just rather be here not long enough than too long… I can always come back (ex-Bay-Smidt Anna is coming to visit, but the day after I go which I don’t mind because I don’t think it would be a good idea to have both of us there at the same time, that would be a little weird!)
13-04
To Mormor and Morfar’s (grandparents) apartment in Randers for a 3 course Easter lunch, served with homemade red and white wine and then a beer afterwards. Damn this being 18 (no seriously, I didn’t finish any of them). The afternoon’s entertainment was a trip down memory lane with 20 years worth of family photos and then the exhibition of the fruits of their hobbies: polished rock jewellery, quilts and rugs. I was very interested.
In the evening I attended Hornslet’s Easter “ball” with Annie, Romain and 3 girls from Annie’s school. First we sat around the table at home drinking (of course), eating popcorn and learning how to pronounce Romain’s name (of course they had been saying it wrong the whole time he had been there, which makes me laugh because they do that to me too – I am “Anna” because in Danish they pronounce the “e.” This makes it very difficult to distinguish between myself (Ann-EH) and the last Aussie, Ann-UH). Then it was off to the Hornslet gym which was decked out with the usual moving lights and smoke machines, with plenty of kids grooving and breaking beer bottles on the dance floor. We were all “relaxed” enough to dance until the party finished at 3, so we had a good time...
14-04
Up at 12 for a lazy morning spent reading and pretending to nap. I baked a chocolate and orange cake for that evening’s dinner party with two of my host-parent’s friends. One of them had of course been to Australia back in 1984, and working in Berri and hitchhiking across the Nullarbor. So we had a chat about that. Knowing a bit more Danish means it’s possible to eavesdrop on the conversations, especially when they talk about me (“does she understand much Danish” “yes, but she doesn’t speak it”). After dinner we kiddies watched “Pirates of the Caribbean” and then tried to be social for as long as it seemed polite before gratefully falling into bed.
15-04
Spent the day recovering. At dinner time Romain’s replacement arrived, and it was sweet that they could speak French together when everyone else was speaking Danish (and I was sitting in the middle getting quite confused! But Romain was pretty happy, especially since the night before they had been teasing him by speaking Danish they couldn’t understand. He even told the new guy, Nicolas, about the way they say his name and they had a good laugh).
That night Charlotte, the Frenchmen and I went to another Easter ball, this time at Allingåbro. It was a bit quieter and harder to start dancing (firstly because there were less on the floor but also because I only had one beer all night), but I met one of the girls from Thursday night and had a chat to her for a while. We danced eventually, with Charlotte’s friends some of whom I knew from dance, and the Frenchmen danced as well, both alone.
16-04
Caught the bus to April’s house (her parents were gone for the weekend) at 12 o’clock without so much as remembering that it was in fact Easter Sunday… at home everyone was doing their own thing, and Birgitte was cleaning out the basement so if there were any eggs to be had they didn’t come out until I’d left. I got off at the right stop after some confusing directions via mobile phone, and we spent the afternoon eating (although our original intention was to make some healthy smoothies we ended up eating pizza and hot dogs and biscuits and lollies and plenty of other junk) and watching reality TV (so much for the “M” in MTV). Their living room was decked out in small chickens and brightly coloured eggs so I guess my family are just not the Easter-kind (Daniel’s host-mum reacted with “it’s been Easter all week” when he wished her a happy one on Sunday, but then Ilse’s host-family had an egg hunt and all! Some people are just lucky I guess).
After eating ourselves sick and testing out April’s new Polish shot glasses (bought on her study tour – she also bought some beer but it tasted just as bad as beer from any other part of the world), we went to bed and fell asleep watching Shrek 2.
17-04
Woke at 6:30 not feeling very happy about it all, but by the time we found the bus timetable it was 10:27 and I had 3 minutes to run to the bus stop to catch the only one for the next 4 hours. I hate public holiday buses. April ran with me some of the way but then decided I could carry on alone, which unfortunately meant I took the wrong turning and ended up at a different bus stop altogether, hopelessly out of breath. The next bus came after half an hour, although it was heading the wrong way I figured all roads lead to Randers eventually… I asked the bus driver and he agreed, although he warned was going to drive up to the end of the road and then come back down anyway. As it was raining, I opted to sit on the warm bus for the extra 20 minutes. When we reached the end of the road there was only me and the driver left on the bus, and we stopped at a small shed for 15 minutes, as the schedule required. He asked me where I was from and was astonished and amused to learn how far I had come. In times like these I tend to feel the same…
So a quarter of an hour later and we were passing that fateful bus stop once again, this time safe in the knowledge that I was heading in the right direction. I arrived in Randers with 45 minutes until my next bus home but then Mariana messaged me and invited me to join her and Daniel in meeting a few exchange students who were visiting from Århus, and who would arrive on the train in 3 hours. To save going all the way home, I rang Birgitte and excused myself from the family brunch being held that morning, trusting I would not be too missed, and asked Maz what time she would be able to meet me in town. 2 o’clock, says she. Hrm, it’s 12 now… so how does one occupy one’s self for two hours on a public holiday morning in the grey city of Randers? Good question.
First I went to the supermarket and spent too long looking at the lunch boxes and the bargain rack and trying to read the birthday cards. When I had bored myself enough there I decided just to try walking in one direction and see what I could find. I started following a woman in red who had been in the supermarket, turned in the opposite direction so as not to freak her out, but then met up with her again a block later. Hope she wasn't too paranoid! I hadn’t seen anything of the town before and it was nice just to look at all the apartments and suburban houses, the quiet streets and the green parks, all the flagpoles and the old churches… I found a soccer field where apparently a match was being played that day, and a park with a rose garden, and a few cute Danish signs (like one warning of cyclists, in which the rider seemed to be wearing a hat and suit). It rained a bit, and I was only wearing my jumper, but it just added to the fun!
At around 2 I began to get messages from Mariana saying things like “where the hell are you,” and so it was time to figure out the answer. I began to head in the direction I thought the city might be, and came across a very familiar bus stop – the very one I had been twice already that morning! From here I tried walking straight, which didn’t help as the bus I had been on followed its own route through the smaller streets, and found a round-a-bout. Taking a chance I turned right and saw the Thor (beer brand) tower in the distance, and my direction was confirmed when I stopped to look at a pretty church and caught a great view of the city. It wasn’t until I got into the middle of it all that I began to get lost, as all the streets lead into one another forming a very confusing web that could easily have trapped me for hours. I was distracted by some interesting architecture and put myself of course at one point – there is one really ugly piece of “art” which I passed going one way, and worried that some idiot had decided to make two when I approached it again from the other direction! Daniel, who was with Mariana by then and both waiting for me at the bus terminal, offered to send a helicopter out to get me, (which I would have appreciated if only to save my blistered feet), but finally I successfully navigated my way back, and prepared to meet our soon-arriving visitors. Well it wouldn’t do to have something go as planned today, so they turned up an hour later than expected and at the train station instead. There were 5, from a few different countries but all preferring to speak Spanish and thereby rendering me a little quiet. They did speak to me a bit though, if only to ask me if I knew a couple of Australian friends they had (it will be very funny when I do actually know one of them – perhaps no one realises how many people we actually have in our country?) and ask my favourite football team (they don’t know about AFL either; I should have brought some video or something because I’m not the best person to explain a national sport I don’t even follow). And the Brazilian girl said she liked the way we Aussies say “no” which is something Daniel brings up often by imitating it, although I always think he’s picking on me. “No no, it’s nice!”
We went and had pizza (my first food for the day actually), watched them climb on our statues and then went to a sports bar to drink Slushies and eat Kinder Surprises (the toys aren’t what they used to be) whilst they downed a couple of huge beers each. Mariana and I went into the gambling room, where we put 5 kroner ($1) into a machine and pushed a few buttons. Before we had a chance to win a million kroner, one of the men who were wandering between machines feeding in money and pressing “auto play” growled that it was actually his machine and his money in there… whoops! It was only lucky we didn’t win anything; then there would have been trouble!
My favourite moment was when Daniel and Mariana, for a reason I can’t remember, were excitedly trying to explain for me something they have in Brazil: first you take a container and some special powder and heat it up, well no you add it to water first, no no you put the water on the fire, and then you add this special powder, and then you put it in the refrigerator for some time and the molecules rearrange and it’s all wobbly!! Can you guess? It was jelly. Yes, we have that too…

22-03
Nothing achieved at school. In Geography Marina and I went to the storcenter and I bought toothpaste and deodorant. Took me a little bit of convincing to fork out the money for these necessities; perhaps face wash is just as expensive at home but I’ve never had to notice! Plus then I had to pay for the plastic bag too…
It’s funny to see some of the different figures of speech used in Danish, compared to English. The ones I have come across so far are: “speak of the sun and it shines” when we would say “speak of the devil,” “stick a finger in the earth” which is the equivalent to “test the water” or “suss it out,” and my personal favourite, “have you dropped the cookies??” meaning “have you lost the plot??”
23-03
Instead of Naturfag today a fella in a wheelchair came to talk to us about the dangers of speeding etc, although I didn’t get too much of it (there got a few laughs during his hour, but Daniel told me many of them were puns so he didn’t get them). I think he had been going 155km/hour when he crashed, so there’s your first lesson. There was also a 15 minute film to go with it, about a group of teens who had died in a car crash and how the ones left behind felt. So some things are just universal I guess. Here, from what I understand, they get the equivalent to your learner’s at 16 and then have to pass a theory and practical test (which costs a fair amount) to get their full license at 18. I’m not sure about L-plates, but I have not seen any and know for a fact that they don’t have Ps. Stine has told me a story (twice actually) about a friend of hers who failed the theory test 8 times and the practical 4, but finally got her license last week… I don’t think I will be letting her drive me anywhere! You have to admire her dedication though!
In the middle of our last class (during the time which the teacher was trying to set up the TV and VCR; another worldwide issue is that teachers have no idea how to work such devices. Someone should run a seminar on that…) a man came in and announced that he needed some girls, which made them all giggle flirtatiously. Turned out it was for a TV documentary about abortions, the statistic was apparently that 1 in 40 girls our age had had one and we were going to get out 15 minutes of fame to demonstrate this. He gathered the appropriate number of us from our year level and directed us outside (in the freezing cold, mind you), where we were asked to stand in a group on the lawn (I had never been on this side of the school before and it was rather nice, with tables and a frozen pond and a view of the basketball courts. Mariana told me that it was quite a popular spot in the summer, so I look forward to that, and to getting out of the classroom at lunch time!). With our backs to the camera we simultaneously walked out of shot, leaving the one lucky girl in the middle of the group who had been chosen as the 1 in 40 (what a privilege!). No one seemed to know when this documentary would air, or on which channel, but that night we watched the news and something about abortions was forecast during the introduction. However, Knud changed the channel before it came to play but no one said anything about it the next morning… not that I would have understood true. But anyway, I can boast that I have been a Danish TV actress, if only for 10 seconds!
In the afternoon Birgitte and I made orange and cinnamon “scones” (I write that in inverted commas because we squished them flat and cut them into triangles before baking, when I have previously only come across them as muffin shaped. Plus Birgitte pronounced it to rhyme with cones. That’s a Goodies moment…) which turned out ok although she wasn’t overly excited. They are for Charlotte’s birthday brunch on Saturday morning, for which tonnes of homemade bread of many shapes and sizes have begun to fill the freezer, meaning we had to have ice-cream for desert to make room. No complaints from me, plus the house smelt like a bakery for a few hours…
24-03
Rose 15 minutes earlier today (at 6:30) so that we could breakfast together for Charlotte’s birthday, apparently a family tradition. We woke her with a round of “Happy Birthday,” although it was only a three-man choir as Knud was busy trying to fix the hot water service (it had broken once before but at least this time Birgitte warned me before I tried to have a shower…) and Annie was down at the horses. We then had hot chocolate and halved bread rolls (of course. They are quite a novelty here which makes me laugh because for the last 4 years at least I had one for lunch every day…) with jam, Nutella, “put on chocolate,” ham (including the Smiley-face type), or cheese (normal or Philadelphia). Beats cornflakes anyday. Charlotte then opened her presents, which had a skin care theme, plus a necklace from Anna and nothing from me. I was going to ask about that but forgot. My bad.
The flag was flying high in Charlotte’s honour – the Danes become very patriotic on their birthdays and decorate the table with flag-covered serviettes and plates and cups and stickers and then strings of them hanging from the walls like fairy lights. I guess it’s nice to be proud of your country but I find it a little disconcerting to count 41 flagpoles on the 15 minute drive to school.
After an unproductive day of education I went across to the store-centre to buy an eraser from the $2 shop (10 kroner shop, rather) and came out with a hole puncher, a packet of pretzels, a bathroom clock, a miniature frying pan that makes your pancakes star-shaped (I didn’t think about the logistics of it all at the time, but it seems it is impossible to flip them over) and many other useless but cheap toys. I think I will go back there again.
Caught the bus into Randers and went to the language school to play on the computers, and a couple of the older women who have obviously immigrated to Denmark and needed to learn the language, gave me friendly pats on the back and asked where I was from and did it snow there. In Danish, of course, but we understood each other ok.
To the library, to the bank, to the post office, to the supermarket to try and find muesli bars (my latest craving, and they’re just not the same here. Someone send me some Black and Gold choc-chip muesli bars, instead of these chubby ones I’ve found in the health food section with raisins and rice bubbles and chocolate and a nutritional information table that makes pretzels look like a wholesome alternative).
In the evening I went to watch Jens play soccer, and activity I am sure will be much more pleasant when it warms up a little… one poor kid was crying because his hands were so cold, and the blanket Birgitte had thoughtfully provided was for sitting on so we didn’t get chilblains on our bums, but no thought was given to my frozen knees… and there’s Jens taking his beanie off! At least it wasn’t snowing…
25-03
Up at about 7:30 to start preparations for Charlotte’s birthday brunch. We had 22 guests coming, so there was plenty of food to make (I helped with a meatloaf and an omelette with 20 eggs in it… they looked pretty cool floating in the bowl together and when I used the electric mixer to churn them up, one was stuck in the middle of the whisk and just keep going round and round…) and tables to set. We had a course of bread rolls (naturally) then the omelette, a meat course with lamb and a cous cous salad, then pancakes with fruit. Needless to say, we all rolled out of our chairs at the end of that one.
In the evening (after a brief lie-down to recover), I met Ilse on the bus and together we went to Daniel’s birthday party, at his house in Assentoft. Despite plenty of Danes to socialise with, we exchange students had seemingly chosen to keep ourselves separate and stayed his in bedroom, which was adjacent to the “rumpus room” his classmates occupied. Had a fun night, didn’t drink very much, ate some of Ilse’s lemon meringue which she had baked for her host-family but they didn’t like, listened to everyone taking turns on Daniel’s guitar… he was looking very patriotic with Brazilian flags on his t-shirt, thongs, guitar and one over his piano, but this was nicely complimented by the Danish flag on top plus a hat and various other presents. True integration of cultures…
Speaking of cultures, we are repeatedly told not to only mingle with the other exchange students but to get out and learn about the Danish way of life, which is apparently what we came here to do. But the other exchange students tell me that they prefer each other. Plus I am learning about more cultures at the same time: in South Africa Ilse’s family eats pancakes when it is raining, often during the afternoon. Daniel, on the other hand, had never eaten pancakes before and certainly not with ice-cream like they often do here. Mariana tells me that in Brazil their ice-cream man drives around on a bike with a sidecar-type freezer, and Ilse says he doesn’t play Greensleves to warn of his approach... South Africa sounds a lot like Australia and we have promised to go visit each other, as we all do, so here’s hoping I will someday learn many more little facts about these countries! Ah here’s another, in Denmark and Brazil you have both your mother and father’s surnames (in that order). Upon marriage you drop your mother’s and your father’s moves to first and you take on your husband’s surname. The kids have the same name as their mother (i.e grandad’s and dad’s), but dad doesn’t change. Phew! In South Africa it is the same as Aus, as Ilse put it “no one likes their middle name, it’s always something embarrassing.” I told her the Mgertrude story.
Ilse’s host-dad came and picked us up at about 1am, and dropped me home (after passing our street and slowly reversing 500 metres up the luckily empty highway), and I listened to them speaking simplified Danish to each other and could understand a lot of it. Some of the friendly (read: drunk) Danes at the party had talked to me in Danish and I could usually manage to get the gist, after a minute of racking my brain for a translation anyway!
26-03
An uneventful day of sleep, eating leftovers (I accidentally microwaved the cous cous salad, which was meant to be served cold, so the feta cheese melted, much to Birgitte’s amusement. But I reckon it tasted better anyway) and then dance from 6 til 8 (extra rehearsals because the concert is soon. Apparently we will do it a couple more times, which means I will get to perform too eventually, but that means I will have to buy some new, bigger jeans…).
27-03
Got to school today to find that the whole year level was doing an English exam all day, thanks for telling me guys. I could have slept in. I went and had a look, and the gym full of tables looked pretty impressive, especially as many of them had computers on them and Ida had even brought her printer from home to hook up… not sure exactly what the exam entailed but then I didn’t even know it was on…
It was raining (first time since I have been here), and very foggy so I spent a couple of hours on the Internet and then tried, unsuccessfully, to burn some CDs. I then gave up and caught the bus home, to burn the CDs on Annie’s computer.
Oh, I saw a gecko today. Down in the basement, crawling in semi-slow-motion like a miniature crocodile. He was heading towards my room, so I kindly helped him back into the cold outside.
28-03
The six of us foreigners were commissioned to talk to the 1st year classes about “making an exchange program,” as Daniel puts it. We were supposed to convince them to go overseas, but I’m not sure how well that went… we ended up telling them a little too often that they were “cold” and uncaring, and that they drank a lot (they were quite flattered by that one though I think). Our History teacher, Kirsten, was the supervisor for one of the 3 talks today, and she was very keen to get us all to advise the school on how they could better receive exchange students, to integrate us a little easier and make us feel more welcome. A few of the kids asked if it was a problem not being able to understand what is happening in class, and we agreed that is was but there’s not a great deal we could do about it and we understand that we only get in the way when everyone else is trying to learn and prepare for exams. Perhaps it would be different if we understood the language. But that’s just an added “challenge” (I once thought I liked a challenge, back in year 9 when I chose to do Italian, and then didn’t do any homework all year… I should have learnt my lesson).
It was interesting for all of us to learn about each others’ culture too, as we talked about our school systems and the difference in some aspects of life compared to Denmark. In Italy the people at Michael’s school are very superficial; cool people don’t talk to those wearing the wrong brands and the way you look can be controlled by your strict parents. Teachers give exams to random students on any given day, and the mark you get was important so you had to study every night just in case it was your unlucky day. Ilse attends a sort of boarding school where you have to open the door for your seniors and wait for them to give you permission to walk through. In Brazil all the students do the same 10 or 11 subjects for 3 years, so you have to prepare for your specific university course (which is a bit rough because the entrance exam is very hard). Even April’s school system was different and she’s from Queensland!
I used the phrase “doll yourself up” and then had to explain it for them which was funny. I was saying how I find it weird how they all put on heaps on makeup to go out, even some of them to come to school, but then maybe people do that in Australia too and it’s just me who doesn’t! We also spoke about Vegemite, the way they wash their dishes and how annoying it is that they don’t use two pieces of bread to make a sandwich…
After we had finished we went off to a café and drank hot chocolate, and then to the Føtex (supermarket) diner and ate cake. It was raining on my walk home, so I opened my one-day-old umbrella and the wind blew it inside out. It’s in the bin now.
29-03
We had two more 1st year classes to speak to but we had unfortunately forgotten what we had said yesterday, so our presentation was 15 minutes shorter and not as interesting. I saw Cecil (whom I made costumes with for the play) down at the bus stop afterwards and she said it made her want to “be one of you” and thanked me for it, which was nice although she did mention that it was good to get out of doing that day’s classwork…
I met Annika and Simone from dance in Randers after school, and we went to the op shops to buy jackets for our costumes ($4 for a denim jacket was ok, I might have to go back there one day…). Then Simone went home, we met Heidi at the bus stop, Annika went home and Heidi and I walked around town for an hour or two (I thought we were supposed to be doing something but it turned out we were just “hanging out”). We went to McDonalds (my first time in Denmark actually), took some free postcards (one which Heidi wrote on in Danish and gave to me that night – I could read most of it with a dictionary too, but maybe they were just little words) and wondered if you could choose a fish from the tank in the middle of the room when you ordered a fish fillet burger.
30-03
In English we had to translate an old poem into modern English which was difficult because it had to be in such a way that the Danes would understand too. Listening to them dramatise it was fun though.
To Randers after school with Ilse and her friend Sabina (who had just come from the solcentre and was slightly “sunburnt” – it’s very odd how many people use these solariums, but you can tell the ones that go too often because they are unnaturally orange…) to look for t-shirts with Danish slogans. We found a small shop run by a Thai woman, and had a nice chat with her (she moved her with her husband, and yes it was a bit cold here) but the shirts were mainly in English and a little crude. We went to our new favourite café to have hot chocolate (a jug of 5 cups for 30 kroner beats one cup for 16. And it was 24 for one at the store-centre!), where a man playing the guitar gave the place a “hyggelig” atmosphere although he kept interrupting us to show Ilse what song he was playing (she was very sweet to him).
After a quick visit to a cheap shop to buy lollies (hence the weight issue) it was time to walk home in the rain (ahh spring in Denmark. Although this rain is kind of “weak” – it just dribbles endlessly, instead of pelting down and getting it all out at once. I guess you don’t really get that wet though, which is helpful as I don’t have an umbrella anymore…)
31-03
Took the day off (we only had Sport, so I rebelled and slept in) so I made myself pancakes (no one was home, I’m so sneaky). They weren’t quite right, a little bit heavy I think, but it felt good anyway. I used about a fifth of the grease in a Danish pancake too (and they were twice as thick). Caught the bus into Randers at 12 o’clock, and bought some trousers from the 75% off rack in H&M (here they write “÷75%” on the signs which is a little weird. They also write “3,5” instead of “3.5” and, consequently, pressing the dot on the numerical keyboard comes out as a comma. They use the dot when writing thousands instead. Strange Danes, eh. Makes Maths a little confusing for me anyway!). Depressingly I am now a size 42 (and jeans are measured in size and then length, although the 42s don’t come short enough for my little legs! Perhaps they don’t have any short fat people here, or they just tuck the ends into their cowboy boots anyway).
Met the other exchange students and went to a café (crowded and smoky – I much prefer the “no smoking in public places” of home as I constantly have to hang my shirts over the window to air them out!), where we had nachos and hot chocolate or coffee. We then went to have a look at St. Martin’s church, said goodbye to April who was going shoe shopping and Michael who wanted to go to the pub, and continued on to the bowling alley. It was $20 to rent a lane for the hour, and then shoe hire on top of that. After the hour was up the computer just turned off (it automatically counted how many pins where left too, although that meant I couldn’t cheat and claim that I’d actually knocked some down – I swear there was a bump at the end of the lane because every ball started out perfectly straight and repeatedly veered to the left at the end! Rigged!) and we had to stop. Opposite the lanes was a bar, and there were many people drinking beer and having a nice, if not loud, afternoon.
Farewelled Mariana, who had to catch a bus, and the remaining three of us decided to try another café (posh-looking, with pictures of Paris on the walls) for the day’s second hot chocolate (I’m not going to count how many in the week).
Arrived home eventually to be lectured on not showing with the other girls after sport (Birgitte was very over-dramatic and convinced that Australian teachers must be positively gasping for fresh air after we returned from Sport), and then subjected to an exhibition of various family photos and wedding albums (Knud and Birgitte married after having children, as had another uncle apparently. Not sure if that’s the norm for Danes, or just our scandalous family). Now I really would like to have an exchange student live with us at home, just to see how my own family would act towards them... Just to see it from the other perspective would be interesting I think…
01-04
Mum and Dad rang in the morning, and it’s times like those I wish I was the one with the different language so that I could tell secrets on the phone!
At 3pm, Joey called me and asked if I could come to school and help them with their play (or our play I suppose). It was too short notice to walk down to catch the first bus, and Birgitte was baking (Anzacs actually) and drive me to the stop, so I had to wait another half an hour for the next bus. When I got into town I had to wait another 45 minutes for the town bus to take me out to school, so it was 5 o’clock by the time I actually got there. We practiced the play for an hour more (my job was to press play on the sound effects, and take the props off the stage) and then managed a ride home with Joey. Oh well, got me out of my room for a while anyway!
02-04
Had to clean the bathroom again. And I’m not getting any better at it.
Birgitte told me it was my turn to make Anzacs (I have said that I can’t cook, but she assured me that it was “easy.” Ha.), although she watched over my shoulder so they were quite unlike at home. A couple of the ingredients were unavailable (they don’t have golden syrup for a start, I feel sorry for them!) and I didn’t dare put more butter in like I do at home to make them huge and chewy. We had Uncle and Aunt over for dinner (for my birthday, because I didn’t have any friends, in particular none Danish, much to Birgitte’s disappointment) and I don’t think he liked my biscuits because he asked if there was any sugar in them (in Danish, but I understood) and only had one. He used to be a baker, but no pressure. I didn’t like them much either! We had the traditional Danish dessert of “rød gule med fløde” which was some kind of cherry mush with cream, and a favourite of theirs because no one else in the world can pronounce the name. They think it’s funny anyway.

23-02
By this time the snow was coming and going; it had all melted when we arrived back from Thailand but fell again the next morning and was gone by lunchtime. This made it very hard to know what shoes to wear.
The most exciting thing that happened today was in Danish (as in the subject), where we sang a song and did a little dance in a circle. The only bit I could sing along with was the chorus: “ha-ha-ha-ha, so-so-so-so.” There is no doubt some deeper meaning in that… Pity I missed it.
24-02
Today was my first “Friday Café.” We finished classes at 12 (as we now do every Friday) and Mariana and I walked down to the storcenter to buy beer and chocolate; she assured me that Heineken was the best and so I bought one can and we drank them on the way back to school. That’s weird. Of course, it wasn’t very nice so I gave her the rest. For some reason we had to stand out the front and finish our cans because we weren’t allowed to drink inside yet… even though not half and hour later we would be buying cup of “øl” from other students and watching each other get drunk. The day’s activity was to make a mask and then take turns in hitting a wooden piñata, one for boys and one for girls, until they broke and we dived in to get the lollies (Danish lollies aren’t very nice actually, they are mainly gummy ones or liquorice and sour…). There was music and boys breaking cups of beer over everything, and not a teacher in sight. However, not much exciting was happening otherwise so I left at about 4 with Anna, to catch the bus into Randers, and she taught me some Danish swearwords on the way. A vital lesson for every new Dane. I was to meet Joey in “the city” but she wasn’t ready yet and I had a couple of hours to kill so Anna took me on a tour of the mall and showed me where all the clubs were. Also vital knowledge. She then left me to catch a bus home so I went and bought 2 CDs and had a look in all the shops (where it was nice and warm at least) and then decided that I had to go to the toilet. I had seen one earlier outside the clubs, but it was going to cost me 2 kroner and I’m too stingy for that, so I decided to find another. Eventually I made it into the indoor shopping centre, without many shops actually just a bar, a mini golf arcade and a solarium, where I found the toilets but they were also going to cost me! I searched frantically in my wallet (by that time I was getting desperate) and finally found the money I needed to open the door, which led to two toilets (if only I had someone with me, it would have halved the price) and all the “free” soap I could use. And I thought I’d left Thailand!
Soon it was time for me to meet Joey at the bus terminal, whereupon we went to “Jenson’s Bøfhus” (beef house) for the cheap lunch menu that had finished an hour ago. Tanya was our waitress, and Camilla had just finished dining there, so it was obviously a hot spot to be (yes, the teenagers here have jobs in supermarkets and restaurants and the like. Same as at home, but not in France I have been told, where they only have jobs in the holidays because they go to school for so long and then do lots of homework, so they have no energy to do anything else).
We then walked to Joey’s brother’s apartment (where she often stays. Hey, on the way we passed an op-shop, that answers one question!) to choke down a warm beer and learn a couple of drinking games that were meant to make it easier. All the girls make themselves up quite heavily to go out, so I submitted to the peer pressure and let Joey have some fun (she was delighted by my trusting attitude, which was perhaps ill-founded…). We then picked up Mariana at the bus terminal and together walked to the other side of the city, to the apartment of Michael and Morton, to drink vodka mixes and play the drinking game I had watched at the last school party. Good fun, especially as there was no beer involved! I also had my first tequila shot which, despite the warning that if I didn’t get to the lemon fast enough I would be sick, went down ok. We listened to music, and I discovered how well-known Savage Garden are. One of the boys had family in Melbourne, and also had a bit of a fascination for Delta Goodrem.
At 2am we made our way to “Tante Olgas,” a club Anna had shown me and was also in that night was Tanya and some of the other kids from my class. Despite my underage status I made it in without a hassle (not that I had any Danish ID anyway, they would just have to make sense of my Aussie driver’s license), and was bought more drinks and played a bit of table soccer (or “football” to the Danes) against Morten (I managed six goals for him and one for myself, and that was the final score…). At 4am we went to a pizzeria for the biggest slice of pizza each I have ever seen (no one ate a whole one), and then to find a taxi that would take five people in four seats. (By the way, this blog will never be published because I’m leaving out all the juicy bits. Is that intriguing enough for ya…? Mwahaha!). Anyhow, stole Morten’s bed and left him on the sofa, and would have been rudely awoken at 6am by his alarm clock if I had been asleep.
25-02
Up at 10am to catch the bus home, snow at 2pm and to Bedstemor and Bedstefar’s new “sommerhos” (grandparent’s summerhouse) to move in their furniture and put up the curtains so they could spend the warmer months with a sea view.
26-02
Today Birgitte suggested I take advantage of the nice weather (yesterday’s snow had melted quickly, the sky was blue and, most importantly, the wind was not blowing) and venture to the local library. I found a map, located the right street, checked the opening times and bus times and (after I had helped Jens clean out the guinea pig cage) off I went. The boy I had been following since he got off the bus turned down the street I suspected the library to be on, but I didn’t want to look like a stalker so I kept walking. Well, the place wasn’t open yet anyway and I didn’t want to stand around outside looking like an idiot (instead I chose to walk around town looking like a lost tourist). Anyhow, I bought a Coke and some postcards so time wasn’t completely wasted.
The library was extremely nice, with a “basement” of foreign language books, plenty of CDs for me to illegally copy and a number of computers that patrons could book for up to an hour (you had to log in to use one, and then it would count down how much time you had left). I found a nice lady to speak English to me, and take me on a guided tour (she was also very interested in if their library was the same as in Australia, which I think it was), and a man in the children’s section to find some books appropriate for me to practice my basic Danish plus a dictionary to translate them. To borrow out books, you place your card (either a special library card or the general citizen one that everyone has, including me) in a slot on one of several booths, and then scan each of the items yourself, whereupon a receipt is spat out at you. To return them, you scan the items at a different booth and they are collected by a machine behind a glass wall and presumably sorted for the librarians to put back on the shelves. Impressive! And the toilet was free…
27-02
First class of the day was English, were we converted sentences into the past tense and we exchange students had to join in which became challenging when first the phrase had to be translated from Danish to English. This added complication earned me a “shame on you, native English speaker” when I failed to use the right word in a sentence I couldn’t understand!
That afternoon I had to go to the bank, to pay for our school trip to Berlin, which turned into rather an adventure. On the way to school I had taken note of the bus stops in Assentoft, and estimated that the correct time to press the “standser” button was somewhere near a sign that had a crown on it. No worries. Of course, I was paranoid that I would miss it so I pressed the button a little earlier, and managed to get off at about the right spot. But where was the bank? I casually wandered in what I hoped was the right direction, looking down all the streets and into the windows for anything I recognised. Before I had gone too far I crossed the street, so as not to look stupid by walking back up the same side, and decided to first go into the supermarket/ office to send my calculator home to Kate, and ask there. The lady told me there was a bank in both directions, so I decided to try going back the way I had came (hoping that anyone who was looking the first time was now busy doing something else and wouldn’t notice a lost Australian). Finally I spotted the ATM I had used on my first days in Denmark, and cross the street again only to discover that the sign with the crown I had noticed that morning was in fact the bank and the bus stop beside it was where I had disembarked not half an hour earlier. If only I had looked the other way the moment I had arrived, and I could have saved myself this bother and then not had to wait another half hour after completing my transaction because I missed the first bus. The transaction itself proved difficult too, as my first attempt at withdrawing money from my Commonwealth account yielded a “service unavailable” message which the woman could not see any way to fix. To my relief, it unexplainably worked on the second attempt. I watched the bus I was supposed to catch driving past so had to go to the supermarket again to kill some time, and bought a bread roll and some chocolate milk in a can, and sat on a bench seat in the freezing cold to eat them. The first bus to come was not going my way, the next was except drove straight past me (the driver of this one looks like Dracula actually), but the third and final option stopped and I was able to finally get home and do my English homework (translation of an essay, which is one of the exam tasks although the other kids don’t get dictionaries).
28-02
Every second Tuesday we start school at 10, so I delight in an extra hour and a half sleep in which still means getting up at 8:30. Whilst checking the bus times at the stop, Bus 214 crept up on me and as soon as I saw it I automatically stuck out my hand and the driver saw me and stopped a little further up the road. This turned out to be the wrong bus anyway, which went straight into town instead of via the school, but it was easily remedied by catching a city bus (almost missed this one too, and had to knock on the door so he’d let me in). As it was school was a waste of time: in History the kids has assignments so I took the opportunity to blog, and in Spanish, after enduring an hour, I went to the library and blogged some more. Actually, not so much a waste of time, just not what I was meant to be doing.
In Drama we are in groups and each putting on a play, and I have been made sound FX man and researcher (I am with Lise and Joey from my class, and Henrietta from another) which means spending more time on the internet. After a read-through of our play we went down to the basement and rummaged through the costumes to find skirts and shawls appropriate to the era (as well as various shopping trolleys and monkey outfits used in the past) and apparently I have to wear a costume too, to take a bow at the end because my role in production has been so important…
01-03
Another late morning (although only for me because the rest of the class were in German) and managed to catch the right bus this time. Naught exciting to report from school…
In the evening I went to dance with Charlotte again: we are performing Grease dances with short scenes to link them and I was given two lines (although it turns out the first performance is whilst I am in Berlin) one of them “wassup, Danny” and the other an obscenity that would be extremely controversial in a primary school at home but not thought of twice here. Our teacher asked again if I had danced before, and told me I was an “easy learner.” Left, right, left, right, turn, repeat.
02-03
Today we were split into groups a couple of times, and they generously spoke English for me to follow. In Danish we interpreted the visual devices in a painting, and in English we discussed Darwin’s theory of evolution (Christian Birgitte – common name – was not buying, but Ida was certain she could convince her eventually!). At lunch time Joey, Lise and I hurried to the storcenter to buy “pølsemix” (slightly plastic sliced sausages with chips) which seems like a popular thing to do and sure beats ham on bread.
03-03
In the afternoon Romain and I went to Charlotte’s school to tell them about France and Australia, respectively. The first class we were scheduled to talk to decided they would rather have German, so we had to waste time in Charlotte’s maths class and a couple of her friends took us on a tour of the school. The kids start at about 5 and stay until the “9th class” when they have the option of either going to another school to do the 10th class (which Annie has done) or going to a gymnasium such as mine. There are two classes in Charlotte’s year level (the 8th) and they have their own room but different teachers for each subject. 3 meals could be bought from the cafeteria (they changed each day), and we scored a few bowl of pasta which we ate in a dining area apparently meant to accommodate the whole school although I think it would be quite a squeeze.
The questions were not too hard, mostly about whether I liked Denmark and why I chose it (easy to make up answer for), and what the schools were like. Charlotte asked if the nightlife was the same, which I found difficult to judge having not experienced too much of it in my time, and one girl (who goes to dance with us) delighted in asking if we rode kangaroos but wouldn’t believe me when I said yes. Other tricky ones were what my favourite Danish food was and what kind of music I like (that always gets me). It was also interesting to hear about France, where the school system is quite similar although apparently there is more work and less respect and kids don’t have part-time jobs because they are too worn out from school (which finishes at 5) and homework.
When I got home Annie convinced me to go riding with her, so we brushed down and saddled up two of her three horses and braved the cold for an hour (my chin was so frozen that I couldn’t speak properly). I am very awkward on a horse, especially when Annie let hers go a little faster and mine decided to follow with me bouncing out of control on top. Apparently the pain will go with practice.
After this it was time to clean the bathroom again, which is always fun. At 6 o’clock I caught the bus into Randers, where I met Ida outside the library and we went to buy beer (4 for 30 kroner, $6) and headed to her place. Here we met Katrine, Michelle (who has just recently left our class), Maria, Emilia and her boyfriend (the latter two not from school, and he a silverchair fan) to drink beer in Ida’s room and listen to music. Her dad said “hey, mate” to me when he found out I was Aussie and her mum agreed that I was going to learn a lot of Danish “culture” tonight. Everyone spoke lots of English for me, but still amused themselves by making me say “øl” in a variety of different tones.
Three beers later we caught a taxi to the gymnasium, which was packed with kids from other schools as well as our own, dancing in the smoke and coloured lights. The 1st year kids were running a cloakroom: for a fee of 10 kroner they would put your coat with a number in a classroom and hopefully be able to find it for you later. We danced and drank and I was introduced to Ida’s friends as “Anne from Australia.” There was a band, Xantom, playing in the gym, who apparently used to go to our school and were becoming quite famous.
In the time when I went up to talk to Ilse and Meda in the cloakroom, Ida and Michelle went to town without me so, after a few phone calls and smses it was revealed that I should make my own way there and hopefully meet up with them somewhere… after calling a taxi to come get me, I saw that some had been commissioned to kids home after the party, so I found one going to Randers and paid the driver the exorbitant fare which was hopefully cheaper than the taxi would have been. I found Anna and Tanya in town, and followed them to Tante Olga’s where Ida was not and nor was anyone else who was going to socialise with me. After some time, and some food from one of many take-away shops open for the hungry drunks (the man serving spoke English to me straight away so there must have been something in the way I pronounced “chicken nuggets”), I headed towards a bar that live music and mainly older people that I could hide in for 2 hours until the bus came at 5am. I succeeded for some time, just sitting and watching people play pool and avoiding eye contact, until a man came over and starting talking to me (unfortunately he was not deterred by my English). He asked where my husband was (!), told me that he was 38 (he was not put off by my age either, although he had guessed it was 10 years higher) and gave me his number (at first I told him I would remember it and he went away, but he came back soon with it written down for me). Finally he left me in peace, believing my name to be Emily (sorry Flem!), whereupon the long white-haired singer from the band came over and asked me where I was from and how old I was. It seems I had been the mysterious girl in the bar, but he had nothing further to say and left, so I decided that it was time to leave before anyone else tried to talk to me. When I got down to the bus terminal it dawned on me (that could be a pun) that it was now Saturday, not Friday, so the first bus wasn’t until 8:05… so I called a taxi and rushed to the petrol station to get some money out before it comes, only to find they don’t offer that service and the ATM on the corner is broken. The taxi driver was very nice and took me to a different one and we had a friendly chat on the way home that didn’t result in anything that would make the news headlines (I sat in the back seat though, I’m so paranoid!). We found the driveway ok and, despite my hints to park a bit further up so that we wouldn’t wake the rest of the household, he drove up to the door. I went in through the lower door that leads straight to my room, instead of the main lounge, and it was lucky I had my keys because it was locked and I didn’t fancy spending the rest of the night (or morning really) on the snow-covered porch. Nevertheless, I was in bed by 5:40 and giggled myself to sleep.
04-03
In the morning there was no comment about my journey home, nor whether anyone had been woken by my arrival. Everyone was excited because we were having bread rolls for lunch (called something fancy of course), although we still cut them in half and put ham on top. I guess you get two serves in one… Birgitte and I read some of the children’s books Charlotte had borrowed from her school library, about a vampire hunt and a dog show and a boy who put his tooth in a glass of cola to see if it would dissolve. That afternoon, feeling quite independent, I took up a pair of my trousers and did a damn fine job too! We watched Brokeback Mountain after tea, which had been bought in Thailand and had English subtitles that too often didn’t match what they were saying indicating a non-English interpreter... but that’s what you get for $4 I guess!
05-03
Went to watch Charlotte and Jens play handball in the afternoon, where I also saw Camilla and two boys from my class, so it’s quite the social hub. Camilla’s sister had been one of my audience at the school talks on Friday, and had gone home excited to say she’s met me. “It’s a small world,” remarked Camilla.
06-03
It was snowing heavily in the morning, making the bus slow and filling everyone’s hair with white fluff. Many of the Danes say they hate the snow, and would rather be in Australia (well I guess when you have to bicycle to school 30 minutes in it, like Birgitte had, you wouldn’t really look forward the winter). Newly fallen snow is nice though; so white and smooth that you can’t focus you eyes when looking directly at it and so bright that you can’t look anywhere else.
That evening we watch two French movies with Danish subtitles, which required a bit of concentration and I can only guess what they were actually about… but ahhh, so cultured!
07-03
If there is a theme-tune to the last 2 months it would unfortunately have to be “My Humps” by the Black Eyed Peas. It’s always on the radio, the girls were singing it in the showers, and this morning one of those annoying people who have their music up too loud so all the bus can hear (at least the tinny bass even if we can’t make out the words) had it playing on their mp3 player. I think I am quite sick of that song now.
In Naturfag we watched an English documentary about Einstein, which made me think of Emily who has been learning about the same man on the other side of the world. Although she tells me everything he said was wrong, so who knows which of us is being lied to.
For Sport we combine with another class and then split up into two again, one group of kids who enjoy sport and the other, which I am in and is all girls, would prefer not to be there. Four girls conducted the warm-up and then we spent the rest of the time dancing a sort of Tango in partners. I went with one of the Sarahs (there are four in our class) which was good because I hadn’t spoken to her much before and we had fun together, although we didn’t dance too well.
At lunch Ida directed a game of Hangman, in English for me, and then we played a game where you have to sing a song with a certain word in it. My team lost.
08-03
I followed a girl to school who was wearing pointy high-heels that left holes in the snow like a malnourished peg leg. There are plenty of high-heels around, and cowboy boots, and the girls like to tuck their tight-legged jeans into them which I guess means they don’t get soggy ankles...
It was our dance teacher Birgitte’s birthday so we all put in and bought her a gift, and sang happy birthday, first in Danish and then in English. I am getting on well with a few of the kids at dance too, they’re very funny! The girl who showed me around their school had lived in Budapest so she could speak flawless English, and I convinced another that she shouldn’t be scared of talking to me because I would rather she had bad grammar than be ignored! She is one of my fellow “men” in Grease, and has told Charlotte that she likes my sense of humour, so that’s another friend, yay!
09-03
For Danish we were going on a class trip to the art gallery in Århus, and all other classes had been cancelled for the day so we were to make our own way there. I was going to meet Mariana at the terminal but she slept in so I was left to find the right bus by myself. At first I thought Christian was taking the same one, but after I got on he was standing outside the waiting room with another boy from my class, Nikolaj, so I could only hope that I was going in the right direction. To my relief, 5 other girls I knew boarded at later stops so I relaxed and trusted that they knew also the way once we arrived. We walked to the gallery, meeting others along the way, and then ate chocolate croissants whilst waiting for the rest of the class. The gallery was pretty impressive, with a level for each era and an exhibition of a Dane called Michael Kvium, who must be quite a strange individual… the class had questions to answer on a number of paintings, and Camilla helped me translate them although I let her do the interpreting. We were the last out, to the annoyance of the two waiting for us to catch the same bus. The ride home was uneventful, and I was alone again by the time I got to Randers, and hungry also so I went and bought a burger and fries meal, which was huge and delicious. Before catching the bus home I went to the library, to borrow some more CDs and exploit their free toilet facilities (bugger paying 2 kroner!).
10-03
Today’s weather forecast was -1°C, but due to the “wind chill factor” it would feel closer to -15…
Friday classes finish at 12 so, as there was no bus straight home from school, I first went to the storcenter and then into the mall to do some shopping. I bought plenty, from shirts to CD-Rs to a pair of gloves that I only owned for about an hour before losing them somewhere… shopping is quite a chore here actually because every time you want to try something on you have to take all your layers off, and in the mall even walking into the shop means you have to take your scarf off and roll up your coat sleeves.
My plans for the night included going to Ida’s house at about 7 and then out to the city, but this changed to Michelle’s house at 9:30 which complicated matters as I would have to flag down a bus in the dark (and the snow, it turned out) and if I were to miss it, the next would not come for another hour. And then how to get to the party itself… after much discussion between all individuals involved, it was decided that Michelle would pick Mariana and I up at the bus stop and drive us to her place, where Ida would meet us at 10 when she had finished work (at a Mexican restaurant, so she brought nachos with her). We kicked off the evening by stopping in at the local service station to buy some beers, and then played the usual card games to help us drink them. By midnight we were down at the Slynborg karaoke bar, but Ida and I fled before the other two got up the courage to sing “Barbie Girl.” We went to Café Von Hatten, an underground club with live band and plenty of Chuck Taylors, where we played a game of table soccer with a couple of guys and I suffered a terrible loss again, much to Ida’s amusement and no doubt the disappointment of my team-mate. Next onto Tante Olgas, then a club with a cloakroom (although I lost my ticket so I was fortunate the bouncer believed me and gave back my jacket when I left: “mange tak!”), and finally Café 38 where we found Joey (and also my admirer from last week but I keep my face turned!), and ate chicken nuggets and chips we had bought on the way. We soon walked home to Ida’s in the softly falling snow, managed to climb her practically vertical stairs, and fell into bed at 5:30.
11-03
Up at 8:30 to catch the bus home, feeling sorry to wake the delicately snoring Ida, who surprisingly sprang out of bed to farewell me at the door. Discovered Joey at the bus terminal, quite worse for wear and half asleep, waiting for her mum to pick her up.
Once home, Mum rang from Adelaide (for her birthday, she had to call me!) and I spoke to parents and aunties before the time came to leave for Ebeltoft, as planned, to visit the European Film College’s open day. After an introduction in Danish we were separated into groups and us English-speaking few were taken on a tour by a guy from Belgium, who strongly recommended enrolling, and stressed that he didn’t usually wear jackets this small, it was actually a girl’s size but he had to have a red one like all the other guides… The school offers basic courses in all aspects of film production and boasts an impressive selection of equipment and editing facilities for their 150 students, who live on campus in self-contained two-person rooms. The kids (aged 19 and up) also have cleaning responsibilities, and help to run the small cinema that is open to the public twice a week, besides organising their own parties in the small bar and watching movies from the rich DVD library. It really made me want to come back to Denmark for another 8 months as an “international student,” but telling Dad this made him hint at how nice Swinburne might be, despite the past year’s warnings that he would disown me if I went to Melbourne.
After a free lunch, we attended a lecture on “The Godfather,” which was in English as all classes would be, but left before the ending as we had next to travel to Århus for a family birthday party. Not too much excitement, although it should be noted that Charlotte has been playing the Grease soundtrack a little too often – Mariana told me that the Danes are obsessed with the musical, but I think dancing to it every Wednesday night is enough for me (since then April has been singing it at school and I have heard one of the songs on the bus radio…).
12-03
To handball in the afternoon to watch Jens and Charlotte, and then three of the boys from my class play a much more exciting game (Birgitte noted that I followed it much more intensely, perhaps not noticing that there were a couple of cute guys on the team… no really, it was a much faster and edge-of-your-seat kind of match!). Much like home football, in that the teams bear the names of the towns and all the kids eat lollies and chips whilst their parents gossip. It’s fun to watch all the people get hurt anyway; 3 in Charlotte’s team went down in the course of 40 minutes, and the spectators clapped when they eventually stopped crying and got up again. It was a little less enjoyable in the boys’ game, where they just hobbled off the court after a spectacular dive that ended not so well.
In the evening, Charlotte and I made a peach tart thing (well, I read out the first line of the Danish recipe and then gave up on the hard words and just supervised) and then I watched “Dogville,” a ´Dane-directed movie with Nicole Kidman which was unique in its concept, although Knud was sure the director was just crazy…
13-03
Started the morning with a spelling test in English, and I got one out of ten wrong (it was “curiosity”, for curiosity’s sake). Then we practiced our pronunciation and, after I had read, the teacher asked the class “what words demonstrate that she is Australian?” And of course they could all pick them out, and told me that I say “hopeful” and “globe” wrong! Well, differently…
That night Annie and I loaded the video from Thailand onto her computer, and started trimming the fat, although it might take a while… We then had a meal for two of chicken nuggets and chips and peas, which Annie cooked for us, because everyone else was out (although we didn’t know where…). It was “hyggelig” – a cute little Danish word for “cosy” and enjoyable…
14-03
A very uneducational (apparently that’s not a word…) day spent at school: no Drama because one of the three actresses was absent, but I would have spent the time on the computer anyway, small group discussions in History, from which I was excluded on the basis of language, and then I skipped Spanish to blog. The most I learnt today was when watching that night’s French movie, and looking up some of the repeated words afterwards...
15-03
Watched the family’s Christmas home movie in the afternoon; first the cutting of the tree and then its decoration with candles and tinsel, followed by a huge Danish meal and the extensive unwrapping of presents and hugs of gratitude. The only real difference from our home Christmas, other than the snow obviously, was the dancing around the tree holding hands and singing Danish Christmas carols. At one point the long chain of relatives was led around the house by Charlotte, laughing and chanting a repetitive song about “jule” being here again, until the older folk couldn’t keep up any longer.
16-03
I skipped Drama and went into Randers at 2:30, for a 3 o’clock meeting with a woman called Britt (who I actually thought was a man, because I’m sure it was a man who called to arrange the appointment…) about when I would start language school. I, of course, had no idea where to find the building but was assured that it could be easily located by walking along the highway and turning right into the appropriate street… after walking for 20 minutes I was sure I had gone too far (as seems to be a habit of mine, that I will blame on the unnoticeable and ill-placed street signs) and I could not reach Britt’s office to notify that I would be late and could someone please give me directions. I found a little take-away shop off the road, accidentally choosing the one run by a smoking, possibly Turkish man who kindly led me to his car and offered to drive me there. After some hesitation, those fearful news headlines running through my mind as usual, I decided that he wasn’t going to kidnap me and got in the car. He didn’t speak much English but he managed to ask where I was from (he too had family in Melbourne), where I was living and why. We drove almost all the way back to where I had started, and delivered me, unharmed, to the red building slightly off the highway but directly opposite the huge dome-shaped monuments (which I have been told are some kind of rainforest glasshouse) which would have so easily marked my turn-off. Next time… Anyhow, found the right door (after asking another person if I was in the right building, but she spoken English this time), met Britt and discovered that class would not start until April but I could use the computers anytime I liked, tomorrow say. Walked back up the highway to the mall, taking note of all landmarks, bought my gloves again (the ones I lost on the bus last Friday), and Blackadder the Third for just $10. Turns out the menus are in Danish, but for a saving of at least $30 I think I’ll go back for the others…
17-03
No school due to some teacher seminar (at least that’s how I understood it, all I really needed to know was “no school”). Took the bus into town at 10:30 and went to the library first to borrow more CDs and then managed to find the language school in less than 3 minutes by taking the route through the mall. There I learned the “face” words on page one of their computer program, and borrowed out a few books and dictionaries to practice at home. Lunch time was drawing near, so I went back to the takeaway shop of last Thursday and had the same burger and fries. Good stuff. Caught the bus to Daniel’s house in Assentoft, where we exchange students we supposed to me having a meeting about the presentation we will be doing in a couple of weeks to the 1st year students about being in Denmark etc, but only Ilse and I went, and she was adamant that we should “speak from the heart” so we watched Saw 2 instead and then looked at Daniel’s photos. A nice afternoon anyway.
18-03
‘Twas Birgitte’s birthday today, and she had taught me the night before how to say “happy birthday” in Danish (“tillykke med føselsdagen” which actually translates closer to “congratulations with the birthday”) but I had forgotten by morning and only got it half right.
Most of the day was spent cleaning (the bathroom again, and the doors, because I was sitting around doing nothing but only because I am still paranoid about seeming antisocial by staying in my room too long…) and cooking (I was supervisor again). We decorated the two long tables with candles wrapped with beads, and of course a Danish flag (but resisted the full table-cloth and matching napkins with that cherished banner) and awaited the arrival of our guests at 6pm.
As I was going to miss out on Christmas, we had the full yuletide spread of “brown potatoes” (potatoes, bought in jars, covered in a caramel sauce of sugar and butter. That’s not good for you…), normal potatoes, roast duck, red cabbage, gravy and another roast meat, probably pork but I can’t always tell. For dessert we had a sort of porridge made of rice, vanilla, cream and almonds (which I had helped Charlotte to shell, but managed to lose half of them when they slipped out of my hand and onto the floor) and topped with cherry sauce. And then ice-cream, of course. Needless to say, I put on a kilo just having dinner! (I am obsessed with weight again, and digital scales are great for precision! And it’s ok; I had magically lost almost 2 kilos again by the morning).
Annie, Romain and I sat around the table for a while talking (Annie did most of the talking, until she convinced Romain to tell us a story, although she made him do it in English when I had offered to listen to it just in French – he started and it was funny but she preferred to understand it), and then we retired to the lounge with the adults to drink “housewife petrol” (i.e spirits. Under encouragement, but it was only one don’t worry) and eat bread rolls and chocolates. One aunty had been hitchhiking in Australia back in 1987, so we talked for a little about it but I was otherwise ignored.
Eventually the guests left and the kids went to bed, and I impressed one set of grandparents by thanking Birgitte for the “julemad” (Christmas food) and wishing her a happy birthday, correctly this time. Good on me.
19-03
After a late morning, and another French film, we went to the Rotary “family briefing” (minus Jens who we left at home playing Xbox over the internet) for Annie’s exchange to Australia which begins mid-July. This went from 1:30 until 5, and was of course in Danish so I was quite bored after a while. Then again, most of the people around me looked almost asleep too. I spent much of the time reading some ex-exchange students’ tips on going to Australia which was interesting even if I only understood half the words. Their main issues were our school uniforms and plastic Christmas trees (they seem to think it is almost sacrilegious not to have a real one, although to me cutting down a million fir trees for a week’s festivities is more of a crime). During the break we all visited the basement corridor, decorated with artwork by the innumerable exchange students from many countries who have spent time here in the past and left their mark. There was everything from native animals to maps, from beer bottles to skulls with American flags and depressing captions, and the Bay-Smidts reminisced at Anna’s painting (their last Aussie). We found a couple of blank places for me to decorate when the time comes (I’ll have to get in quick if I want a good one though, as there are six of us to fight over them). So any ideas people?
20-03
A slightly miserable day for exchange students, as when one is in a bad mood the others can’t help but sympathise. Mariana was bored out of her mind, frustrated at still being in school doing nothing, and April was being her usual homesick self (she cried in class apparently so now all her classmates are being very nice to her…). I wasn’t so affected, but took the last two classes off (German and Drama) and went home to watch a DVD and eat a satisfying lunch of left-over rice with curry soup sauce. I like left-overs now, I didn’t at home. Unfortunately, despite being relatively “healthy” food, you can guarantee that it has been cooked in excess oil or salt which will probably annul any good points the food may have otherwise had.
Tried unsuccessfully to have a nap, watched Heartbeat for the first time in many years, ate tea, watched more TV, went to bed again. Riveting.
21-03
Played volleyball in sport, which was fun although this time it was a mixed team with some of the kids from the other class, of slightly more elite athlete-types, but they were very understanding of our inabilities and told us all “good try” when we missed the ball or failed to even go for it. I am proud to say there were worse on the team than I, and a couple of times I actually managed to participate in winning a point. We didn’t win though…
In English we played we modified version of Jeopardy, to learn some of the bigger words in a text about the Berlin wall (I am learning more history here than I did in an Australian school actually). Our team won, luckily as they were counting on their natural English-speaking secret weapon (not so secret perhaps) and I again thought of how much better at the language they were than us at home! Their biggest trouble is grammatical, as the order of words and use of past tense etc is much different in Danish, but if they had more practice they would actually surpass many students of their age in Australia. Pronunciation is also a problem, but the teacher tells them “put the stress on the second syllable” and they work it out! Plus they all speak another two languages at least. You can imagine their shock when they learn that I only studied Italian, for no obvious reason, and stopped by year 10. I guess we just don’t leave our little country, and everyone speaks English for us anyway…
Got our jumpers for the Berlin trip today too, well some people got t-shirts etc too and all different colours so they obviously aren't for keeping track of us easily. I got Michelle's (who quit school recently) because I was in Thailand when they sent in the order and no one remembered me… means my signature isn't on the back either but oh well, such is life.

13-02
Left the resort and drove into town, where Annie bought another memory card for her camera and we visited “my” war museum (it was Australian-run apparently) where we wandered through various displays and artefacts and had hot dogs in the café (who also offered Vegemite on toast).
We then drove to Hua Hin, which was a fairly touristy area by the sea, where on one side of the road you would see a luxury hotel with large windows and tiled pillars, and on the other a run down shack with dogs sleeping in the shade and children running around with no shoes a woman doing the washing in a bucket. And the TV on full volume of course. We were staying in a “bungalow,” which was really just a bigger hotel room with not enough beds or sheets or chairs, but two toilets at least. In the evening we took a tuk-tuk to the market down the road, where I failed to spend any money for the simple fact that I didn’t actually have any (none of their “funny-money” at least), and then went to the supermarket to stock up on biscuits and chocolate. We watched some Thai-boxing on TV, which delighted Jens but disgusted me – the basic concept is thus: put 8 or so burly blokes in a boxing ring and watch them theatrically thump each other and spontaneously pile up on a randomly chosen victim, until there is only one mulleted moron left and then give him a trophy and a clap and repeat. Naturally they all have to wear lycra, although preferably not much. What a show. Also found ABC Asia-Pacific and caught up on the news in Australia, and realised how… amateurish… or something, our news sounds with our accent! It just doesn’t sound very intellectual!
For dessert Annie and I had “fried banana” which turned out to actually be those mini-bananas deep-fried and served with ice-cream and one of the weirdest things I have eaten. Such is experience.
14-02
During breakfast we watched a group of ants (what’s the collective noun there?) pulling a dead dragonfly up a 3 foot brick all. It was excruciating and incredible! They managed to haul it half way when it suddenly fell and they had to start all over again! And by the time they got up to the top, a million little ants had to communicate wordlessly to try and manoeuvre it over the edge, which they just couldn’t do! They would pull it one way but the wings had it balanced so it couldn’t come over the corner without falling, so they had to retreat and try another spot along the wall, and try to draw it up sideways but it was tipping, so they moved back down and there were single ants running to and fro evaluating the situations, and it was just so frustrating! Then to my disappointment I was pulled away by the family, so we will never know if the ants accomplished their impossible task. It’s funny to watch ants and you think, they have no idea what is in front of them or around them or where they are or what lies ahead… to them a blade of grass is a million miles tall and they have to concentrate on making it over that one before tackling the next and they don’t even know what direction they are going! But then we’re just like that aren’t we… unaware of the world around us and the obstacles that lie in our path, waiting for us to accomplish one task only to be faced with the next. Perhaps there’s some ugly git watching us too. Let’s hope they don’t have a magnifying glass…
Spent 9:30 until 4 at the hotel pool, watching (from beneath my umbrella) all the white Europeans smother themselves in sunscreen so they could lie in the sun for hours, slowly turning red. Why can’t you just sit in the shade?? Perhaps they haven’t heard of skin cancer. Tsk tsk, I’m just too responsible.
The pool was just beside the beach, so we could pretend we were at the sea whilst enjoying chlorinated water and free orange towels. We eventually ventured out to the ocean, and jumped the waves for a bit (something I haven’t done for years), and the water was warmer than in the pool.
That evening we visited the night markets (no one’s getting presents by the way, I thought I should warn you. You should know how I feel about buying gifts…) and saw plenty of Billabong and Roxy clothes (all the different brands and designs were printed on exactly the same style shirts, so it was a little too obvious that they were fake. But then, that’s what you expect). Donated a lot of blood to the Thai mosquitos, which resulted in itchy legs and a sleepless night.
15-02
After rising at the ungodly time of 6:30 (we are on holidays people!), we were picked up and taken to an island an hour away. Here we climbed a mountain (430m of rock steps, in my thongs) to a small cave which was ruined by a shrine the king liked to visit. He had graciously allowed his staff to carve his emblem into the rocks, as had one of his successors, so that was good of him. All the boulders that small sticks wedged under them, and I will not believe that it was to keep them upright. Maybe it’s some ancient Thai method of defying gravity – 60 small bits of tree will keep up 3 tonnes of rock. It’s all about the angles, I’m sure.
After a big Thai lunch we spent the next couple of hours on the beach pretending to sleep. Got a little burnt whilst in the (incredibly salty) sea, and saw a little jellyfish floating past. Eek.
Fact: there doesn't seem to be a Coke vs. Pepsi war here, most restaurants over both and put the posters up next to each other. And it seems that all soft drinks, big and small, come in glass bottles, with rub marks on the waist and bottom from being trucked so far in close-fitting crates.
16-02
Come the afternoon, we filled our wallets with baht and headed to a outdoor shopping complex half an hour’s drive away, in Cha-an. I was all ready to spend some money but everything I tried on was too small so the only thing I bought was a chocolate waffle with ice-cream and Kit-Kat pieces. The shops ranged from Esprit to Nike, from sports to surf, from shoes to Warner Bros merchandise (i.e. normal clothes with Tweety Bird stamped on them). Annie and Charlotte both bought Roxy boardshorts from a shop that sold Australian brands, but the prices were the same as at home so I wasn’t going to bother stocking up (not that they would have fit me anyway…) There was also a shop called XOXO, which prompted the Bay-Smidts asked me why Australians always ended their emails with this curious stamp. After the initial confusion, I realised that they didn’t know that this meant “kiss hug” and all correspondence from their last exchange student finished in this way, and they had no idea why! Possibly they still thought it odd after I had explained it…
In the evening we went to the markets, and I bought a watch that I had seen and wanted 3 days ago but hadn’t had any money, and a Superman t-shirt (despite Annie’s bemusement). Knud bought some wonderful paintings from a man, after haggling with him over the price and nearly making him cry (a technique he used often at the market, always keen to get a bargain). We left him to mull over our offers, and went and had tea in a restaurant that had too many mirrors on the wall and wet towels for “refreshing” ourselves after eating, then returned to haggle some more. After sitting for an hour, making light conversation and some confusing deals (Knud wanted to give him half baht and half kroner…), they eventually agreed on a price, Knud paid a deposit and arranged to meet him the next day in our hotel’s foyer to with the packaged artwork. We could only hope this man was genuine…
17-02
Spent the morning at the pool reading German and Danish magazines (I wasn’t being pretentious, there just weren’t any English ones). We had ice-cream first at lunch (which confused me very much, although I wasn’t going to complain!), eating it with forks because there weren’t enough spoons in our dodgy room. In the afternoon Annie and I went horse riding along the beach – she was ecstatic because she hadn’t been on a horse for 3 weeks and I was just being a good sport… Not quite the gallop through the breaking waves like in the movies, but I think my horse was struggling enough under my weight anyway (and I think my stirrups were too short… of course, Annie didn’t even use hers…)
We found some guys offering a ride on an inflatable rocket-thing, towed by a jet ski, much like biscuiting only with up to 5 people on at a time (and if you fall off you will be carried out to sea and never return and probably drink a lot of saltwater in the process). After waiting so long for Knud to come back with some money that we thought we were going to have to break it gently to the guys that we couldn’t go, us 4 kids eventually saddled up and prepared to hold on tight. It was terrifying. I seriously believed that I was going to be thrown off and left to drown in the ocean by the grinning Thai man, who would no doubt be cackling insanely. Everyone else was screaming, occasionally with glee but often with fear, but I just concentrated on clinging to the vessel with every muscle I had. We reached the mountain, with a standing Buddha watching over the sailors and giving them his blessing (I hoped he was looking after me too), and without warning we turned the corner sharply and I was sure I was about to see a quick montage of the exciting bits of my last 17 years (shouldn’t take too long), but when we had finished sucking in seawater it turned out we were no deeper than our waists. Stop laughing, Thaiboy, you’re lucky we’re alive. We headed back to where we started, where Jens gave up and got off, and we changed positions so that I was no longer at the front where I could see the waves coming and brace myself, making the ride all the more frightening. This time when we rounded the corner and all fell off Annie and I landed on Charlotte so she wasn’t very happy. They called the whole experience something that loosely translated to “the devil’s ride” and I would have to agree.
That night’s entertainment was the Sagi outdoor theatre show, with Thai set menu, traditional music and dance and costumes, and a bit of fighting thrown in for good measure. My favourite dance was one with bamboo poles, with men at either end snapping them together to the beat whilst the ladies danced through them expertly. Hard to explain in words, but it looked pretty impressive. Of course, audience participation is always a winner, and the big American tourists had a ball joining in (plus no one got hurt and sued the company so that was good).
18-02
Our chauffer returned to drive us the two and a half hours to Bangkok, which was still as dirty and noisy as we left it. It took some impressive manoeuvring, to get the van in and out of the driveway of the New Road Guesthouse, our lodgings for the next couple of days, as it was discreetly hidden off the highway and featured minimal parking. The “resort” itself was a bit of a dump, included in the travel package as a type of insurance, apparently, and filled with Danes who had bought the same deal. Charlotte’s face when we entered the room was the funniest thing I had seen for days - her horror the prospect of staying in this stunted room with a bathroom so small that the sink had to be outside and having a shower got the toilet paper wet was classic! Personally, I liked feeling like a Danish backpacker! We had booked the usual 3 rooms, although Charlotte and I had to this time share a bed, but this was comparable to the bathroom door being slightly too transparent... At least we had 10 minutes free internet each day…
We were given coupons for a “free drink” down at the hotel’s “bar,” where the Bay-Smidts got talking to some other Danes and I read a Lonely Planet guide to Australia, and learnt a lot about our history actually. I looked up Mildura (as you do) and discovered that it was so out of date that our cinema was still the Twin and the Red Brick Café was listed as a top place to eat (this used to be my favourite place to go on “my day” in the holidays, for the customary bowl of chips luncheon). Red Cliffs featured as a nice place to go to see an old tractor, so that made me proud.
We went to the markets along the highway that evening, although I still believed we were going to see the Thai boxing and was told off for not listening when this was being discussed (in Danish…). Bought a Coke t-shirt, written in Thai, which I had been looking for and was happy to pay $7 even though Annie was sure this was too much. She insisted I get her to haggle for me the next time I wanted to make a purchase, so when we came to the DVD stall where I had been told to buy Saw for Kate, I graciously allowed her to lie to and belittle the vendor into giving her a cheaper price. 100 baht, or $3.30, seemed reasonable to me, and I was happy to believe the man when he said they were the same price everywhere. Annie did not feel the same, and he was not ready to accept her lower price, so we were forced to leave empty handed. So much for the power of haggling! I just paid 100 baht at a different shop…
Oh, and had McDonalds for tea. Huuuuuuuge Coke and chips. And the pictures of Ronald etc were different to home, more cartoon-like and younger perhaps (?). Oh, and you can ring up and order your food to be home delivered, how incredible is that?! Good on McDonalds, don’t you think?
19-02
Another day, another palace. This one was the “Grand Palace,” so I guess that means it was important. The amount of shiny things was certainly in agreement with this assumption; mirrors and gold trimming on every building and stature, multiplying the already harsh Thai sun by a million times. Tourists walked around with their bilingual brochures shading their eyes, cursing such a religion that demands long trousers or skirts in temples. As it turned out, thongs were acceptable so there was no need to suffocate my feet in socks and shoes, but no one tells you these things beforehand. Another set of identical photos later, including one of all of us with the unsmiling statue of a guard (akin to Buckingham’s) whose eye I kept trying to catch so I could laugh at him, or at least show that I felt sorry for him, but he had no doubt had plenty of practice with idiot tourists and stared resolutely into the distance. There’s another
Next to see the “Reclining Buddha,” a 46 metre statue which, once inside the grounds of the temple, took us 25 minutes to find. One wouldn’t think it should be that hard. Perhaps look for a really long building? We had to ask directions. We finally found it and walked around in awe, although the intricate paintings on the wall (being restored, as were the ones at the Grand Palace. I would have liked to have been on a tour there because the closest I could get to understanding what was going on in the pictures was to linger beside a group of tourists and overhear their guide telling each story) and the detailed pearl doors were more interesting to me. Along the wall opposite the statue’s back was a row of bowls, into which tourists exchanged their money for small 1 baht coins and dropped one into each silver basin, the tinkling sound of religious superstition echoing through the hall. I could have easily made off with a few extra coins in my pocket, but I wasn’t sure if Buddha was a vengeful deity (or whatever he is anyway) so I left them for the government to collect.
We had wanted to go to the Chinatown markets that day, but the traffic from where we were prohibited it (I wondered if there were many cases of road rage here, as vehicles were constantly weaving between each other and cutting others off, but I think it has become something they just accept and live with. Quite amazing actually, they must all be pretty good drivers just to still be alive! I would be terrified to drive in that kind of traffic! One cool thing they have though is a huge LED sign counting down until the next lights change, so that the motorists can judge how long they will have to idle and how late they are going to be. Bonus fact: In Denmark the lights change yellow to red, and then yellow to green. On your marks…), so we went to the shopping centre instead. There we ate lunch at a fast-food looking place called Chester’s which served chicken and rice, and a salad with spicy bits that make you cry. They warm you up anyway! Mr Woody got our subtle hints and bought us kiddies dessert – the girls had waffles, and Jens and I had a chocolate milkshake each, the best I have ever had. It was like drinking cake. Mmmm… To while away the hours I played a game called “Smile at the unsuspecting person,” which I had been doing at the Grand Palace. The premise is simple and pretty much given away by the title – smile at whoever catches your eye and see if they smile back. So far I had got two returns, but then it seemed that most people didn’t look directly at others so that made it difficult. Whilst waiting for lunch I was staring at a girl with a Volkswagen bag and she smiled at me first, totally throwing me off guard and beating me at my own game! 10 points to her…
Anyway, then we went shopping, or everyone else did really. I saw my Coke t-shirt for only $3.30 and hoped that Annie didn’t. Found a Chuck Taylor shop but none jumped out at me and I wasn’t quick enough to do the math and work out they were so cheap it shouldn’t matter what colour they were. Oh well. There were a lot of these shoes in Thailand; at every temple there were at least 3 pairs by the door and 5 other kids walking past wearing them. They were abundant in the shopping centre too, every 4th person had a pair on. Of course, I was never sure if it was a Thai or an Asian tourist, but someone out there must be selling them by the truckload! Mr Woody had noticed that I was wearing them, and dragged us into one shop that sold them, which I thought was sweet!
We all waited patiently whilst Jens looked at all the mp3 players (iPods were only about $40 cheaper, but then you have to buy power adapters etc so I couldn’t be enticed), me trying to inconspicuously watch the Mr. Bean episode playing on the TV. Had to pay 3 baht to go to the toilet, but that’s ok – a sign proclaimed that toilet paper, soap and hand driers were included in the price. I’m amazed they didn’t write “seats” as well. Ah, the little things we take for granted.
Took the “sky train” out to the tailors’ shop (“emporium,” rather), where everyone tried on their suits etc and chose materials for shirts and ties. Free drinks, so that was good, and toilet paper to wipe the rain off our shopping (yes, it rained again. “…Always take the weather with you”).
Back to the shops to buy that mp3 player (which was such a subtle counterfeit that it had “iPod” stamped on the front), and for Charlotte to have a haircut. To while away the hours us three remaining girls had another Thai message, this time lined up in leather chairs with a masseuse each and a big window at the front so that the other shoppers could see how relaxed we were and want one too.
As a last minute need to spend some money, and the good fortune to come across a shop where I could be happily persuaded to do so, I bought a small “Oreo”-themed bag and a Volkswagen one just like that of the smiling girl. This shop also sold Emily the Strange and Happy Tree Friends, but I wasn’t sure that a bag with “Candy kills” and a mangled furry creature would have made a good impression on my new family. And the t-shirts were too small of course.
For dinner we went to an Australian restaurant, with novel artwork and paraphernalia lining the walls and the hugest knives ever, which actually made it near impossible to cut the food. I resisted the imported steak, which was of course also the most expensive, and settled on chicken with gravy and Aussie chips, although the gravy was white and the “Aussie chips” were just chips. Still good though. We ordered a dessert with “sinful” in the title, and were advised to only share 2 between the 6 of us. It turned out to be a tower of ice-cream, with chocolate topping and coconut, and was pretty good, although I’m unsure of the Australian connection…
20, 21-02
Our flight home left at midnight so, after collecting our new clothes from the tailors (were they told us everything could go in the suitcase except the suit. No one else seemed to find that funny) we were taxied out to the airport and hoped we were at the right terminal. We had KFC for tea (I realised I didn’t feel at all sorry of the Danes not having this crime against fast-food in their country), and I attempted to reconvert my baht to kroner but was unsuccessful and ended up changing half to euro and having more coins than I started with. And then came the flight…
The first warning we got was the welcome announcement: “…Malev airlines, flying to Mumbai (*gasp*) and Budapest (*sigh of relief*).” After some confusion over seats (Annie and I first were in the wrong place, and then swapped seats with a lady, a vegetarian for interest’s sake. No, I’m not an excellent judge of character, the stewardess tried to serve Annie the specially ordered meal until we worked out what had happened). Anyhow, flew into Mumbai but the view consisted mainly of lights so it could have been any city. We had to stay in the plane, as this was to be a short stopover for our little plane to refill its little fuel tank. 25 minutes turned into an hour, then another, and passengers began whispering to each other, spreading rumours that they couldn’t get clearance for us to leave the airport so we were stuck there for a little longer. The stewardesses wouldn’t say anything. Three hours and two angry Italians later, an announcement was broadcast, first in Hungarian and then in English, that we would be taking off very shortly but, um, we would be stopping in
Dubai first. Much cheering ensued. Countless hours later, as I had lost track of the real time when changing from Thai to Danish to Indian (Mumbai) to Australian, the massive red desert and square concrete houses of Dubai, in the United Arab Emirates, came into view. Here we were let off the plane at last and sampled the local chicken sandwiches from the airport deli and spent the rest of our precious time on the ground queuing for the toilets (despite all having just come from Thailand, only one in 30 women was prepared to squat…). We were given passes for a speedy transfer to the next flight, but still not to Budapest I’m afraid – this round-the-world tour was next stopping in Istanbul, Turkey! If only I had got a stamp in my passport for every airport we landed in; my little blue book would be full! This flight was the most picturesque, over the mountains of what was possibly Iran, where you could never quite tell where the clouds ended and the snow began, and whether the people in between knew we were watching them.
During the journey, Knud commissioned me to write a short letter (on the back of the dinner box lids. Wow, I have had a lot of aeroplane meals now) to pass around to all the passengers, which asked them to write the destination they would most like to go so that “our friendly pilot can work out the most convenient fuelling stopover” and we would all get to see the world. Most of the people liked the idea, although many of them didn’t understand what it was about! We thought it was funny anyway…
Finally we were in Budapest, even if it was 12 hours late. The man at the door wasn’t too happy about my passport, and wanted to know where I was going and could he please see my ticket? Of course, Knud had it in the briefcase for safekeeping, and they had all already passed through the soundproof doors, so security decided to believe me and let me through. Phew.
Malev was feeling apologetic (those two upset Italians especially had given them trouble, called “bravo!” each time the next delay was announced) and gave us each a free return flight and a free meal credit at the Budapest airport. So we all filled up on spaghetti bolognaise and chips and coke and a muffin and a muffin for later, and then sat around waiting for the next plane to be ready (and watching illegal DVDs on the portable player until too many little kids invited themselves over and there was no room for us). We also were given some free international phone cards, so I called Mum (who had tried to call me at home apparently) but the connection was pretty bad, echoing and delayed, and the card ran out soon anyway.
For our last flight (hopefully) we were upgraded to VIP class, which meant a little more legroom and not having the person in front on your lap when they selfishly decided to reline. We could practically recited the takeoff guidelines by that time, although perhaps not the Hungarian version quite yet, and we finally felt like we were heading in the right direction. The most beautiful sunset I have ever seen made the whole thing worthwhile: the red of the horizon faded into the usual yellow and orange but, before transforming into the ink-blue and then pitch-black sky above, there was a green that I have never seen there before, completing the rainbow and making me wish I was a poet. Everything looks different from 30000 feet I guess.
Touched down in Copenhagen at about 8pm local time (bringing our total airborne hours to 12), to freeze once again whilst waiting for the train to come. Three hours later, and a few Zs snatched on the way, then home for tea and Danish pastries (not the “traditional” kind, just pastries that have been made in Denmark and I don’t know the name of), showing off of purchases and, finally, the long-awaited euphoria of sleep.
22-02
Woke at a reasonable hour and wondered when the polite hour to get up was. We all relocated our clothes from suitcase to laundry, and dealt out the souvenir brochures for each individual scrapbook. We spent the day reliving the last two weeks, viewing the video and photos Annie had taken and then the DVDs we had bought. Mum and Dad called, missing me too much. I did think of them often enough, and our family holidays. So I have come to realise what a great place Australia really is, holiday-wise. We have so much to see and do and such a variety of nature and history and experiences in general that I feel sorry for the people who never get to see any of it. And you can do it on so many levels, small trips to the places close to home or the full-scale expedition to the other side of the continent and be just as satisfied. That is my advice to you: get out and see it however you can. After having been once I would like to go again as a “young adult” sometime in the near future, and then take my own (possible) kids because every time you would experience it on a different level… We went at a perfect age, about 9 and 7; we still had imaginations but we could also understand the science behind what we saw; old enough to appreciate it but young enough to have fun by ourselves. Thailand had some of the same kind of nature, with the mountains and beaches and stuff (we didn’t visit any of those Getaway-type beaches with pure blue water and white sand, but I wouldn’t have know what to do with myself if we did), but Australia has all that and more. Takes a trip outside to realise what you have at home!

03-02
Took the day off school (well, I didn’t have to go to German, and we couldn’t do Sport or Drama because of the play rehearsals), and spent the day cleaning the bathroom, blogging and talking to Mum and Dad (who called because they missed me so much). I had Vegemite for lunch and felt very Australian – it really is great stuff! I called my school to tell them that I would be away for the next two weeks and this proved more difficult than expected because their “calling” tone sounds just like our “engaged” tone so I kept hanging up thinking that the line was busy! Got through eventually when the secretary picked up on the second ring, which was lucky, but she didn’t really care that I wasn’t coming to school anyway.
Night eventually fell and, after a large meal of frikadeller (meat patty things) and a triple helping of potatoes, Birgitte, Annie, Romain (spelling? That’s the Frenchman) and I set off for the schoolfest. And, wow. Too much talent for one little school such as this! All-singing, all-dancing, Madonna-mikes and lights and projection and live band and everything! The play (go here and click on "Skoleforestilling 2006") was about two girls who were on a road trip and, although I didn’t understand too much of it, it was still awesome. Many of the kids in my class had starring roles because they are mainly Drama students. The best part was obviously the black cloaks I had sewn for the cult scene, in which there was also a lot of chanting and green lights and Ilse was drowned by the priest… comically of course! The play was based on a TV show and I have found someone who can lend me the DVD so I might get to watch it with subtitles and get the jokes!
Next came the beer. The kids were selling a good-sized plastic cupful for 15 kroner, which is about $3! I bought one and decided that I really didn’t like the stuff and could I please have a Bacardi Breezer instead. Tables were set up in the caf, which was decorated with streamers and candles and had a live band playing in the corner. Upstairs, each class had set up their classroom in the theme of their school camp destination and were selling food of that country. There was German (that’s us), Polish, Italian and French. Camilla had made the best brownies in the world, although they weren’t actually German, and so I was more than happy to hang around our stall for a while. April wanted pizza, so I bought a German sausage with sausage and something crunchy (which I have since learnt was some kind of onion) and we went and sat in the Italian room (which was her classroom). There was also a small band playing in the common room and many tables set up for kids and parents alike to place their beers while they got their balance… yes there were a few drunks. It was good though because alcohol tends to make anybody friendly! Spent some time in the caf with another Bacardi (I broke my own drinking record again: 4! Good on me…) and shouted conversation with some new friends and suddenly it was quarter to 1 and time to go. Birgitte had arranged to call and pick us up at that time, as she was adamant that an early night was very important before a long trip (which was still two days always), and so I hastily said my farewells (or farvels…) and tried not to look too tipsy on the way home. Fell into bed and didn’t even notice the dripping of the pipes and the roar of the heater that so often keeps me awake at night in my little Danish bedroom…
04-02
A day of cleaning, playing catch and “500” (a card game) with Jens, watching handball on TV, and seeing various Danish things burning on the news. And here’s me thinking Denmark is a small, quiet kind of place that wouldn’t be any problem in these “interesting times…”
05, 06-02
Snowing again in the morning, which was not nice when you are wearing as little winter clothes as you can because there will be no room for them in a lovely warm place like Thailand. We drove down to the train station in Randers, for a 4 hour trip into Copenhagen airport. After much complication over which seats were which, we uneventfully flew to Budapest (1 hour and a half) and then onto Bangkok (8 or so hours). The only entertainment was one movie projected onto the wall 6 rows in front of me, and a tinny radio with 12 channels and none playing good music. I did hear Pete Murray at one point, which was nice. Otherwise, I stuck to using the iPod and praying that the battery wouldn’t run out.
When we arrived in Bangkok, and had made it through passport control (there was a little Thai man who was enjoying his authority a little too much and making sure everyone was standing behind the line… he tried to get me to “move down, move down” to the next line but there was no way I was going to be separated from the group!), we loaded our many bags onto two trolleys and waited to be picked up by the two Thai businessmen who were the real reason for this trip – Knud sells balers and the like to them and we were there to make a good impression and form a lasting business relationship. After much confusion we finally met and managed to shove our suitcases in their car (or two cars rather, these people didn’t count on us bringing so much stuff) to begin the 2 hour drive to their town (of which I don’t know the name, I’m sorry, it’s just I tend not to know what is going on most of the time). We excitedly took in the foreign city, with so many huge building and signs and trucks that overtook and changed lanes without warning, haphazardly dodging the motorcyclists and utes with 10 people in the back. Annie moved from window to window taking photos, but soon we were exhausted and silence fell as the rice fields and brown rivers sped past and we fought off sleep, some more successfully than others. The sun was red as it hovered above the horizon, at the normal time of 6:30 instead of it being pitch-black already, like in Denmark. Finally we arrived at our destination, and we were first taken to tea in a roadside restaurant that I can’t work out how to describe… it was more of a shed, with concreted floors and cooking space outside, with a small air-conditioned room for we apparently important guests. Food was brought out, but we had yet to learn the customs of Thailand – first problem was the cutlery, which consisted merely of a fork and spoon, the latter to be used as a knife. Serving was difficult, especially as they invited us to take the food first so we had no example to follow, but we managed! After filling up on the first course of deep-fried chicken with vegetable stuffing (Fact: Denmark doesn’t have KFC) , another plate of food was presented, and then another, and then another! One round included hot chilli that made Knud’s eyes water, and the Thais laugh, and another was a whole fish which we tried with some trepidation but turned out to be beautiful. Confusion also arose often due to language issues, particularly when pronouncing dishes such as fried rice and shrimp. I came in handy a couple of times, as the only one present who had English as a first language, so I felt that I earned my board there. The two men, Mr Woody and Mr Nipong, were very interested in our countries and asked many questions and made many jokes (some of which were lost in translation).
Our glasses of Pepsi were refilled every time they became half empty (or half full?) and so pretty soon it was time for our first Thai toilet experience… what first appeared an ordinary toilet turned out, on closer inspection, not to have a flush. Instead a tub of water, filled from the small tiled tank in the corner, was to be thrown down it hard enough to push everything down the cistern, and this turned out to be the norm across the less tourist-infested parts of Thailand. Our next issue, and a common problem too, was the lack of toilet paper and we had to surreptitiously take the little pink serviettes from the table, which were half the size and thickness of proper serviettes and a poor substitute but better than the alternative…
Eventually we were allowed to go to our hotel, where I shared one of three rooms with Charlotte, and this time it was the roar of the air-conditioner that would not keep me from sleeping at last.
07-02
After more language barriers were overcome, this time with the hotel staff, we breakfasted in the small gazebo on the lawns (although don’t for a moment think that any of this was picturesque, far from it. “Lawn” is a very general term in this case and actually means “dead grass and rocks beside gravel and concrete”). Many rounds of toast were brought, all cold by the time they made it to us, served with marmalade and butter (which turned out to be Australian made actually), and a poached egg each. We were then taken to a business meeting, where we were invited to sample a large variety fruit and other interesting-looking foods, and generously offered more Pepsi than was acceptable so early in the morning. Soon we were getting restless, so Mr Woody offered to take us kids and Birgitte to an aquarium in town, whilst Nipong and Knud were to stay behind and continue talking tractors. Knud was most upset by this and, after some careful hints, managed to be invited along as well. It took about an hour to get to the aquarium so we all had to go to the toilet again, and this time it was a little more interesting: squat. As “experienced” travellers, as the Bay-Smidts claim to be, I could only be brave and, well, careful… I don’t think I shall go into much detail. This time, at least, there was toilet paper, although we had to buy it at the door. As a reward Jens and I had ice-creams, which cost 7.50 baht each, that’s roughly 25 cents! That is why people holiday in Thailand.
The fish were huge and incredibly ugly and kept in quite small tanks, and this was followed by crocodiles, and a river where disgusting fish lingered just beneath the surface so that they could easily catch the food that tourists eagerly threw down. Mr Nipong bought us each a packet, and we spent some time devising interesting ways to throw the pellets so that the fish would ripple across the water in fascinatingly revolting patterns.
We then visited a garden, and saw many strange fruits, some that were so long they reached the ground, and others that had been grown in boxes and so had then taken on a square shape. Then to a zoo, if I could call it that because it was mainly dirt and wire cages, and boasted animals such as chickens and emus and only a couple of lions in painfully small enclosures. We had passed many trucks carrying sugar cane that day, so we decided to follow them to the mill where we discovered rows upon rows of these huge lorries were waiting to deliver their loads, some decorated with sunsets and birds others just dusty from the long roads they had travelled, and drivers sleeping in hammocks strung between them.
Next to the company’s damn, where we watched the sun disappear behind the mountains and Jens played with the “bug zapper” shaped like a tennis racquet that Nipong had given him, which electrocutes anything it touches, so quite a few leaves and, of course, mosquitos, fried at his hands. Then a large dinner again, with Thai, Japanese and Danish businessmen, which was quite amusing. Our hosts could not understand why we were not eating as much as on our first night, but we had learnt that “eat while you can because you never know where your next meal is coming from” did not apply here and you had to go very slow and only take a little because there was surely more food coming! Of course, we never knew what had been ordered so the only thing to do was to be brave (or just stick to the French fries that had been so generously provided for us Europeans).
As the night wore on, the men became a little drunker and a little noisier, and enjoyed swapping information about their countries and cultures. Nipong, who loved his drink, was sure that “dam hash” was an English phrase for “cheers” so, although none of us had heard of it and were sure he didn’t know what he was talking about, it became the salutation of the evening and a running joke. He had been begging Knud (“Mr Kahnoo”, he found the name difficult and I can sympathise!) to come out drinking with him since our first night and finally won him over, so it was arranged for him to take us kiddies home and then they would go out on the town. Charlotte was terrified at the prospect of being driven home by a happy little Thai-man, quite certainly over the legal limit, although we were assured he was quite safe! In fact, said Mr Woody, when there are other people in the car he drives like a turtle! This was little comfort as we had been in his car all day and experienced some white-knuckle moments overtaking 4 sugar cane trucks (having to dive back halfway because there was a car coming), and flying over bumps in the road that were taken far too fast. So, after some persuasion and meaningful looks at each other, we managed to convince Woody to drive us back to the hotel instead, and arrived safe and sound to watch incredibly tacky Thai soapies and sleeeeeeeep.
08-02
Wednesday saw a lengthy drive (as per usual) out to the old capital of Thailand, Ayutthaya (don't ask me to pronounce that). Here we visited a temple, housing one of Thailand's many Buddha statues. Despite its spiritual significance and its huge draw of tourists, the temple's beautiful (read: extravagant and garish, like so many of the Thai buildings) exterior was deceiving and joining Buddha in his shrine were various sofas, photocopiers and somebody's office. A questioned why we should have to take our shoes of to walk around a bunch of tables and antique electrical equipment, but anyhow I was as respectful as I ought to be. It amazes me to see the devotion of the Thais to both their religion and their monarchs, as this is a mind frame that just isn't common in Australia, where our most fanatical people are football supporters... A sign out the front of this temple, explaining its history, told of the day the king let it be known to the people that to pay their respects to Buddha they sticking gold leaf to it was quite acceptable. And no doubt they did what this. By the way, the statue wasn't of the fat Buddha that we Westerners associate with the name, that's apparently Hotei, or the Laughing Buddha.Mind you I didn't learn that in Thailand, I just looked it up on the Internet then. You can do the same, so I don't fill up these 10 pages with religious education... Perhaps the fat one is just Buddha after starting an enormously popular religion with plenty of sparkly temples...
We also visited the ruins of a palace, or something, climbing massive stone steps in the blazing sun and laughing at tourists having their photo taken by the guide in the same place as millions before them. I didn't take many photos the whole time, leaving the job to Annie, because they would just be identical to everyone else's before me and I could find better ones on the Internet anyway! Speaking of photos, as we left the temple a group of Thais wanted to have their picture taken with us Europeans, and we of course obliged them. "And these are the sweaty white people we met..."
On Charlotte's to-do list was elephant riding, and just around the corner was a place offering such activities. She and I shared an elephant, which was adorned with red and gold tasselling and "driven" by a cocky boy who sang for us and kept looking around to see if he amused us. We walked down the street, past the ruins and then down the road, side by side with buses and motorbikes and "tuk-tuks" (the little three wheeled taxis, "unique to Thailand"). Not too keen on the “plod-plod, plod-plod” kind of way of moving but at least the cars get out of your way!
Soon it was lunch time, and we were taken to a river-side restaurant and served the usual multiple dishes on a small open-air boat. Annie liked the fish mobiles that were hanging from the roof, and the staff told her they were from a shop just down the road, so we walked there and filled a box full of cardboard fish to give the kids' bedrooms that "I've been to Thailand" kind of feel.
Back to the office for an hour, a tour of the warehouse and all the tractors (very exciting; Knud assured Woody and Nipong that his family "loved" tractors and were quite happy, nay, fascinated and willing, to sit and listen to them talk business! Sure…), dinner in a concrete roadhouse (where we confused Woody by not wanting to sit in the air-conditioned room but rather outside to soak up the "atmosphere"), and bed at last.
09-02
Packed up our staff and were chauffeured 2 and a half hours to the Pung-Waan resort on the river Kwai, the upper-class side of Thailand they show on Getaway without the skinny dogs and rubbish and people trying to sell you something everywhere you looked. We unpacked our bathers and headed straight for the pool. Afterwards, despite Birgitte's solemn vow that we would "order Thai food when the time comes to do it ourselves" we had a European lunch of Club sandwiches and burgers and ice-cream, and then headed back to the pool to get burnt (or tanned, if you are Danish. They do like their sun, when they can get it, and this family has holidayed often enough to be brown which puts my freckled white skin to shame).
That night was European dinner in the resort restaurant (as with subsequent every night, which suited me fine), then cards back in our room (3 rooms between us again) and Annie went a little crazy, Jens got upset and I was taught a little Danish (fruitlessly of course, it doesn't sink in very well yet!)
10-02
After a buffet breakfast with hot toast (finally), we went on a speedboat trip up the river only slowing down every time someone spotted some kind of interesting wildlife (like the strange birds that reside around here, or a big fat lizard, lounging in the sun *shudder* makes me think of Katherine gorge, all those crocodiles…). After an hour we came to the “Death Railway,” built in the World War 2 by many POWs (including Australians) who subsequently died of exhaustion and malnutrition etc. The train we were to catch was not coming for two hours, a ploy I think as there was a street (well, a line in the dirt) of shops for us to browse and buy Gucci sunglasses and Mickey Mouse watches and shiny wood furniture (if you can fit a table in your suitcase), and a million different t-shirts with elephants on them. Annie bought a massive fan to put on her wall, and managed to save 200 baht in our first try at haggling (which was quite easy in this case: “I only have 600” “Ok, for you!”). The train finally arrived before we bought too much, and we travelled down to the next town where we had lunch (which included French fries again), and then were met by the “European expat” (they try so hard so have signs in English but sometimes it just doesn’t work! For example, one tour boasted an “English-speaking guid” and a restaurant later on served “vanila” ice-cream for “desert.” Oh, and don’t forget the “luxuly” apartments for rent!) who drove us back to the resort. When Knud told him where I was from he said, “Yeah, she looks like an Australian, now you come to mention it…” So good on me! Perhaps it was because I was the only one wearing a t-shirt and hat – Birgitte commented once on my being “all covered up” but I call it “sun smart!” Amazing how well that was drilled into me… or perhaps it’s just a fear of getting more freckles! And showing too much skin…
That night when I ordered fish for tea with tartar sauce, everyone looked at me horrified and Knud asked whether my insurance covered such a condiment… I was baffled and couldn’t reassure them that tartar sauce was not dangerous in anyway, at least not where I came from! When my food arrived (much later than everyone else’s as the minimal-English-speaking waitress had not actually taken my order) all became clear: they understood “tartar” to mean a kind of raw meat dish served (I think it was) it Germany, not mayonnaise with green bits in it. Phew, eh?
11-02
Our “European expat” (what do you call a man from Belgium? That’s not a joke, I actually don’t know…) drove us into town where we saddled up the elephants again but this time rode through the bush, amongst butterflies and a mountain-view, and low-hanging branches that can steal your hat (I was wearing the elephant hat that Knud had bought for fun at Ayutthaya but was too small for him, and I wasn’t going to get burnt, damnit. A branch knocked it off my head, and the boy on the elephant behind us had to jump down and pick it up for me, so I felt silly…). It felt a lot less touristy so that was good too. (Fact: Cross country in Denmark is a 5km run. The big kids go 8. Makes us look a little weak!)
Next we drove to the river, where a bamboo raft was waiting to take us back to the hotel. We were warned to walk crab-like along the raft, so as you not to fall down the slits between the bamboo sticks and get stuck, so of course I walked straight forwards and lost my foot… Sure, I listened! Knud joked that you had to say “no worries, mate” at the end of every sentence to get a point across to an Australian. Anyway, managed to get my foot out and we began our swift journey, down the River Kwai. The current was very strong, but we were encouraged by our young Thai captain to jump off the side and float alongside the raft – encouraged, by that is, by being splashed with his oar until we gave up and got in the water. He once got Annie to stand at the front of the raft, arms-out like in Titanic, and then pushed her in! So yeah, he had fun with us…
12-02
Much to my horror, today’s activities involved an uphill bike ride to a waterfall and, as predicted, I nearly died. I brought up the rear most of the way, of course, puffing and panting and wishing that the Thai boy would come back and push me again. Luckily we were allowed to get in the water, and bathe our jelly-legs and throbbing feet, or I am sure I would have over-heated! “You change colour!” remarked Mr Belgium. “You look like a tomato,” said Birgitte. “Kill me now,” thought I.
Jens had not ridden with us, as he was sick (they are sure it was too much air conditioning and asked if I ever got sick because of it at home… I don’t think so… I once got a cold in the middle of summer because I left the fan on all night, but that’s as close as it gets!), but he had been driven to meet us and he had fun splashing everyone and floating in one of the tyre tubes provided, in his clothes of course so he was completely soaked. I’m sure that was good for him…
Soon it was time to mount again, and after riding along the highway (eek) we were led back to the beaten track and assured that it was “downhill from here.” It certainly was, and that was fun at least – “wheeeeeee! I’m going to diiiiiiie!” I didn’t crash, thank God, because that is something that would happen to me. We crossed an old suspension bridge, reserved for bikes and motorbikes only because of the huge cracks and missing boards that one could so easily fall down. If that was the Death Railway down the river then this was certainly the Death Suspension Bridge. At least I knew that was nothing in the water to eat me but I didn’t fancy a swim as it was actually raining at that time (unusual for the season, we were told, but then each year is never quite the same). So I held my bike tight and watched where I walked, and tried not to wish bad things upon the boy shaking the bridge, as hilarious as I’m sure that was. There’s always one!
Made it back alive to the resort where we were rewarded with a Thai massage. Mind you, this was nothing like the brochures, which showed young, beautiful, half naked lady being gently rubbed by and equally beautiful Thai – I was prodded and kneaded and squeezed and pressed and shaken and thumped (yes, I realised later that’s where the bruises on my legs came from…) by a big Thai woman with warm hands who didn’t think twice about becoming quite intimate with me… Not really my idea of “relaxation.” I felt quite light-headed when I emerged and this could have been why I accidentally dropped one of the glass bottles of water from our fridge, and it shattered across the floor and I had to call room service to clean it up but they didn’t really understand what had happened and so it was still there the next day and so yeah I don’t like Thai massage.

Disclaimer: The author takes no responsibility for any eye strain, headaches, numbness of limbs, joint stiffening, spinal damage, loss of social skills, or chronic boredom caused by the following entry. You have been warned.

21-01
Watched some of the christening of “our” Danish prince, although I could barely make a word of it but I’m not too devastated. At 1:30 (or 1330 rather, they speak in 24-hour time), we began the drive to the top end of the country, which took the whole of 2 hours, to visit Birgitte’s brother for his birthday. A full family gathering was in store, complete with Danish flags on the napkins (apparently this is a normal thing to do here). I was included a few times, the girls translating jokes etc for me, and we played a few rounds of Chinese Whispers which was very funny with a non-Dane in the line to change each phrase into something completely different. After dinner (Annie seemed to tell me we had reindeer meat as a starter but she wasn’t sure… if so, that’s different!), we watched Madagascar, and talked to one uncle about Australia (he wanted to know how to throw a boomerang… which I don’t think I have ever even done).
Oh, point of interest, the soft drink cans are all 330mL (as opposed to our 375) and they don’t have “diet” versions, but “light”.
22-01
Sunday was fairly uneventful, drove home and counted about 106 wind turbines on the way. We have four outside our house, but they don’t give us electricity so I have no idea what they are for… I have seen a few places that look like power stations, with huge billows of smoke coming out of them that look quite toxic, so I can’t decide if Denmark is an environmentally sound country or not!
23-01
First day of school! After rising at 6:30am, I followed Charlotte and Jens up the 500m road to the highway, and then further along to the bus stop. Halfway there Charlotte decided that we were going to be late so we had to run through the snow (not as easy as it sounds!), with just moments to spare before the bus came into sight and we had to wave our arms frantically so it would stop (I have to do this every morning now).
Made it to school on time and was shown to my class by a random man in the office (the headmaster was late as the roads were blocked), and shook hands and exchanged names with the girls there. We are in the same room all day, with teachers coming to us, and everyone keeps their bags and coats behind them (which is annoying because you always have to step over things). There are no bells between classes (that depends on the school apparently), and each one is 90 minutes with a 15 minute break and half and hour for lunch, which the kids spend either hanging around the classroom or in the common room that joins each year level. There are 3 grades in the school, with kids starting at around 15 and graduating at about 20, depending. Most school days finish at 2:15, except maybe one day a week which goes until 3:30, and timetables alternate weekly.
English was the first class of the day; they all speak perfectly, although I felt special being asked to read over something they had written. It is just like English Literature at home (I should know, I did it for 2 weeks), and they are just completing a study of Sherlock Holmes stories. After the break we watched a movie in German (which I now don’t have to attend, as an exchange student benefit), and, after spending lunch on the computer with mum telling me to “go make friends,” I bludged through History and then trundled off to Drama. We were split into three groups, each with a costume organised (ours was blue garbage bag dresses and aluminium foil on our heads), and went off to “act”. First we were a bird, and then cavemen, and then rappers, and then Indians… at first I thought we were improvising but they have apparently been rehearsing for sometime and today was the performance! Once we had our yelling and falling perfected, we trouped back into the drama room (a temporary one, as renovations are happening in the school. This room used to be the “smoking room” until such activities were banned at the start of the year. Oh, so many smokers! It’s not nice…). The other acts were very interesting, very “arthouse”, especially as I couldn’t understand what they were saying!
Managed to pronounce where I lived to the bus driver, and pressed the “stop” button in time. Very proud of myself. Had to walk up the highway (with the cars going the wrong way… I was most confused when I first arrived, to look at the cars and see no one in the driver’s seat! I saw one man sitting on the left who was sleeping and that scared me, until I realised the driver was quite awake but on the other side!), and didn’t get hit by a truck which was nice.
24-01
Tuesday morning I was completely paranoid about missing the bus, which meant I left too early and was waiting alone at the stop for 10 minutes. No worries, but it was quite cold. Thanks to Sheridan for her thermals and gloves! I have also borrowed a jacket and boots from my host family (the boots are “KangarROOS” which could be a coincidence I’m not sure) so the only problem was my icicle of a nose. Is it not odd that your nose runs when it’s cold? At what temperature does mucus freeze?). Made a goit of myself by waving at all the trucks because I thought they were the bus (since then I have spent many a morning devising plans to improve this system, which involve neon lights and computer programmed bus routes and microchips in our wrists), but managed to flag down the right vehicle eventually.
Naturfag was first, but no chance to find out what exactly it was because they were having a test and I didn’t have to do it. Of course. Mariana (my Brazilian exchange-student buddy, who is allocated the seat next to mine) and I went down the computers and just wasted time.
Sport next, playing volleyball. Afterwards came the dreaded showers: in Denmark they like to have showers after sport which I had been warned about but not until I was in the country and it was too late to run away! After many heated discussions with myself on the subject, I discovered that Mariana shared the same feelings as I and had so far managed to avoid the group “activity.” Phew, eh.
Met the other exchange students, who had been here 6 months already: Daniel, also from Brazil, and Michael, from Italy. They all speak Danish well (plus 3 or 4 other languages between them) so there is some hope for me in my short stay (although I am told it is possible to understand people when they talk to you, but when it is two Danes in conversation it’s a whole other story!).
25-01
It was snowing as I walked to the bus stop at 7:35am, and I almost became stuck when I stepped in one pile of snow that was deeper than I had estimated… tried my best to look in control of the situation as the cars and trucks sped past me endlessly on the highway I follow each morning and evening. The school buses are very luxurious, with carpeted seats and ceilings like the coaches for long journeys at home. The only difference is the randomly placed “stop” buttons, which I never manage to sit close enough to get at gracefully…
School was incredibly boring as we had History all day and I still had no password to get onto the computers. The rest of the class were doing their assignments and I was given no guidance, so I took to wandering the school and reading whatever English books I could find in the library. Learned some interesting things about Nursery Rhymes…
After tea that night, my area representative, Jesper, (whom I am supposed to call on when I am feeling terribly depressed about the whole thing) called round for tea and cake (which I was supposed to make but, um, forgot) and a revision of the rules and my “expectations.” Apparently I have to now take up volleyball, film school, acting, rowing, cycling and many other activities so that I can meet new people and never have time to sleep. I am his only charge so I think I am going to be looked after well…
26-01
Spanish all day. Learnt a lot... Birgitte found me some Disney books on tape, so I can read along with the Lion King and hopefully pick up some Danish here or there. They speak incredibly fast, and often don’t leave gaps between words so I’m never sure which line the reader is up to!
Went to see Charlotte’s handball team training (she is the goalie), and it’s a pretty exciting sport to watch, although far too much running for me. That night I caught my first glimpse of Orion in the night sky, the right way up! It was too cold for stargazing though, so hopefully I will get another opportunity to take it all in a little later.
Spoke to some of the girls in my class today, Tanya and Anna, and am told that they have McLeod’s Daughters, Round the Twist and Genie From Down Under. Top quality Australian TV!
27-01
After school, we exchange students went to the storcenter and then caught the bus to Michael’s house for pasta and Lord Of The Rings (although we only watched half). On the way home the bus pulled off the street without warning, and our driver got off to get some change from another bus parked opposite. I laughed out loud and some girls looked at me funny… managed to find my stop ok, which was lucky because it was dark and foggy and the next stop was 2km up, and walked back up our driveway feeling very proud of myself. Arrived just in time for a second dinner, which was a huge roast pork and potatoes… dinner is my favourite meal and most of the family have second helpings which is very handy when I don’t have much lunch (I miss our white bread! And peanut butter!).
28-01
Finally it was the weekend, but nevertheless I was out of bed and at the bus stop by 9 to go to school for rehearsal and preparation of the play that is on next Friday night. I was invited by Tanya and Anna, who promised that something could be found for me to do, and was thrown into costuming. After an hour of going through the Danish script and writing a list of what props were needed (or sitting and staring blankly, if you happened to not understand a word of what was being said), two of the girls and I walked down to the storcenter and shopped for masks and stockings and the like. They spoke English to me the whole time, which was great as I was included! We went to the hardware store first, where you take a clipboard and write down the serial number of the items you want. The clipboard is then taken out the back by the staff who put your requested items in a plastic basket which arrives by conveyor belt to the registers for you to collect and pay. Oh, and the whole shop was yellow.
The rest of the day was spent sewing black cloaks for some sort of chanting scene in the play, but by 9pm the South African exchange student from the year below me, Ilse, and I were getting distracted and making mobile phone pouches and witch outfits for Barbie dolls. And drinking lots of hot chocolate from the coffee machine in the cafeteria. Mmmm.
Many of the kids slept over at the school, including myself, although there wasn’t too much sleeping done by our group, who set up camp in the basement area and stayed up until 3am drinking beer. It’s ok Mum, I still don’t like the stuff. Talked to some more Danes about Australia, swapping names of celebrities and bands, and went and played in the gym for a while which was set up for the play and the band. Apparently the teachers were not around, so everyone was happy to play whatever instrument took their fancy and make as much noise as they could. It was most odd to be up so late in a school, surrounded by drunk kids and no rules. Friday night will be much the same after the play, as the presence of teachers makes no difference to these people and classes are encouraged to set up stalls to sell beer etc. Ilse and I compared notes on the difference between our countries and Denmark, and came up with much the same points regarding the relaxed attitude in school. Students wander in and out of classes, chew gum and make phone calls, and teachers are called by their first names. And they certainly like their beer…
29-01
Woke at 10am the next morning, to the cry of “for satans!” (you can guess what that means). Without no further way to contribute to the project, I left school to find a bus to catch. The streets were fairly dead, and it was a beautiful day which was lucky because I had a fair time to wait. Caught a “city bus” into the Randers bus terminal, thinking I had plenty of time to make the 11:15 bus home, but we first drove around the streets of Paderup (Pala-oop, where the school is situated), and idled outside some random shed for 10 minutes for no reason I could see. Next we sat outside the storcenter for 5 minutes, where the bus driver tried to speak to me (as I was the only passenger by now) until I told him I “don’t speak Danish, sorry.” I did manage to ask if we were ever going to get to the terminal, and he assured me it would only be a matter of minutes. After forever and a day, and a suddenly full bus, I arrived at my destination to find that the next buses were not for an hour. Text messaged Annie frantically, who told me I could take number 213, which was only half an hour away so I went to the service station to buy a Mars bar for brunch (which was not cold enough, strangely. I should have put it in the snow for a bit). Finally arrived home 2 hours after I had left school, where nothing exciting was happening anyway…
30-01
A foggy morning, which meant it was even harder to see the bus and my frantic waving was a tad delayed. I thought I had missed the bus altogether, as it drove past me, but it managed to stop a little further up so had to run through the snow to get to the door. The bus driver told me off, but as she was speaking Danish I could only guess this, and when she said “okay?” I said okay too… Sorry… This marked the start of a bad morning, as the dark cloud was still over my head and I left my wallet on the seat… I received a phone call when I was in class, from an unknown number, but when the end of the day came I had needed money to get home, I checked my voicemail, delighted to hear that my wallet had been handed in and would I like to come get it now. Had to take a city bus into the terminal, and get directions to what I assume was some kind of bus service headquarters… So I had to walk over the bridge, map in hand so that I looked like a lost tourist, and up a long highway. Of course, the street I had to go down was barely there, so I walked past it and had to turn around again. I spotted some yellow buses parked off the road, and walked over dirt and snow to get to a small, unmarked, grey building in the middle of practically nowhere. I was told to go to the first floor, which was fair enough because (what now I assume was) the ground floor was nothing but a door to the toilet and a stairwell. So up the stairs I went, in this small, seemingly deserted building, and tried the first door I came across. It led to a small room filled with tables and chairs… so I tried the door opposite next, this time finding two women at desks with computers and printers… I meekly enquired as to whether I was in the “place to get, like, lost property and stuff” and was welcomed in, given my wallet and a piece of paper to sign, and bid farewell. Or “farvel” rather. I left, reprimanding myself for being so careless, but also patting myself on the back for resolving the problem, and also for putting that little piece of paper with my name and phone number in my wallet (which I had only done two days ago, how lucky can I be??).
Well, the actual plan for my afternoon was to go to the storcenter and take out some more money, so I messaged Birgitte to tell her I was going to be a little later than expected (it was 3:40 by now). She called me and told me to come straight home, not to worry about the money, but I had some time to spare before my next bus so I vowed to find an ATM and make up for my mistake. I wandered around the mall behind the terminal, which I could have easily got lost in as each cobblestone road forked off into several more with bakeries and shoe stores randomly placed along the way, for as long as I dared, and I had just given up when I found my money dispenser and lined my wallet until it bulged with as much Danish kroner as I was allowed for the day. Bought myself a Smarties ice-cream as a reward (I like to justify food. Come on, I’d just walked kilometre upon kilometre, up and down a busy highway, surely I deserved this! Well, it was delicious anyway, if not expensive), and caught the bus home. I sat next to a girl from my class, Stine, who had fun making me pronounce Danish words and taught me how to say shoe and scarf and nose, among other things, but I haven’t got the hang of actually remembering any of them yet…
31-01
Danish all day (as in the subject, obviously), and I received the most attention from a teacher as yet. She took Mariana and I aside and explained what was going on and left us to translate the day’s work, which was a set of questions to answer about a movie we were about to watch. In the first class 3 of us, (Ida, Maria and I) were drove down to the storcenter in Maria’s car to buy bread rolls (which they called “round pieces” in English), butter and what Ida could only describe as “put on chocolate” – thin slices of chocolate that you put on bread, for the my favourite Danish experience yet. Good stuff.
The snow has begun to melt, flecked with black and growing clumps of dirt and grass, making the landscape most unattractive. And it feels the coldest yet, the chilled wind whipping at my face as I walk home after school, can’t beat my Eskimo impression - scarf wrapped tightly around my nose and hood pulled over my ears, gloves, handknitted socks (courtesy of Bedstemor i.e Grandma) over my thermals, over my knees… my favourite place on these days is the bus, which wraps you up in a blanket of heat and thaws out your face and fingers once again. Sad to have to get off really.
01-02
A nice bus driver makes all the difference to a day. I think there are about 5 drivers that take the 214 and today I was greeted with “god morgen” and thanked when I showed her my new bus pass (which all the kids have, it allows you to catch any bus for a fee charged at the start of the month, otherwise each ride costs me 23 kroner, which is a bit less than $5). On the 10 minute journey to school I didn’t even think about my plans for improving the bus system!
My first class of Geography, and was totally ignored by the teacher who didn’t introduce himself or anything, just got straight into teaching. He handed out some sheets to the class, so I spent the lesson translating it with Mariana’s dictionary, and learnt a lot of interesting thing about “damp air” and its behaviour when going up and down mountains. I think.
At lunch time I met the other Australian exchange student, April (yes, her birthday is in April too), who had arrived on Saturday but only started school today. I had seen her in the office that morning, when enquiring about buying tickets to the Schoolfest (the play/concert/party on Friday) and noticed her looking at me funny. She told me that at first she didn’t click that she was listening to English, and then she was even further amazed at the Australian accent! I agree, it is odd to hear someone else talking the same as me, instead of in Danish, or the slightly American English everyone else speaks. Of course, now I am worried that she will learn the language faster and better than me, and that she will be the cool Aussie! I already have enough to worry about with the two Aussies who have just left! Everyone likes to tell us about what they were like, on my first day the English/Music teacher asked me if I knew one of them, Bronte, but I am told she was from Perth so I find it quite unlikely…
That night Charlotte had dance class at school, which I tagged along to. It was pretty fun, jumping around to Grease music with a bunch of 14/15 year olds, and Charlotte and I did our routine together so well that we had to demonstrate for the class. It was pretty casual, with a break in the middle for the kids to swing on the ropes hanging from the gym ceiling, but I have been invited to join their performance (not sure when or what or anything yet), and the teacher told me I was good hehe. So that’s Wednesday nights settled…
02-02
Not a very exciting day: a quick trip to the storcenter during German with April and Mariana (when we get back from Thailand I am going to buy some peanut butter, I finally found it!), practice of some German songs in English (go figure. Our class is setting up a German stall at the Schoolfest and I think we must be performing at some point…) Oh, all this German is important at the moment because our class is going on a week excursion to Berlin in April, over my birthday. Yay, another country! Aspect has organised a trip to Paris in May for their exchange students too so I am looking forward to that, although it’s not for very long and most of the time is spent on the bus…


Going to Thailand on Sunday, so I will have another two weeks worth of blogging to catch up on when I get back! Great…

Hej (don't I just sound so cultured? This is "hello" although it sounds just like "hi" so I can cheat and pretend I'm speaking Danish...).
Well, I’m here. Not sure if it still even feels real! I am at school now, which is quite boring because they teach in Danish and give no special treatment to us foreigners. We have History all day today (not the norm), and the class are doing assignments and I don’t have to do it. This is happening for 3 weeks so I should have plenty of time to blog. This is good because I have a lot to say, and to satiate your need for me as quickly as possible, I will do it in instalments…
18-01
After spending two days hanging around Melbourne with Dad, whilst Mum and Kate were at a dance workshop, it was time to do the last suitcase rearrangement and make our way down to the airport. We checked in and then had an hour to kill before we had to meet at the gate and say our goodbyes. No tears in our family (from what I saw anyway), but there were some elsewhere. Perhaps more later…
So I was standing in the line with all the other little travellers, (what for I’m not sure, I just do as I’m told) wondering who was leaving and who was going home, when my phone started to ring! Ahh, my mum was missing me already! They were calling from the lounge, just wondering what it was like on the other side of the wall. Unfortunately it was not very interesting. Anyhow, made it through the metal detector (although one girl was pulled aside and apparently asked if she was a terrorist... or something like that anyway) and past all the duty free shopping without spending any money (not that it was any cheaper than normal shopping anyway, more expensive in fact). We just piled our baggage on the seats when it was time to board the plane. After talking about the slim chances of getting a window seat (2 seats out of 9 per row), I was all too lucky and was able to watch Melbourne airport fading into the distance, with the all-too Australian dry dirt and trees as my last glimpse of home. After that it was paddocks and mountains and sea and clouds and then the Corpse Bride and other such movies. Window seats just aren’t that wonderful in the dark. Until we got to Singapore. Oh, the lights… pretty special. Do they have a square in Singapore with scrolling boards and TVs and stuff? Yeah, I think I saw that.
19-01
So 9 hours later (I think it’s about Thursday by now but who can tell?) we touched down in Singapore, played on the “Travelators” (moving walkways), and wondered where the nearest McDonalds was. Oh, so cultured. We only found a Burger King and a 7-11 (which stocked the largest range of Twisties I have ever seen. Like, 7 flavours! Phew! This is what travelling is all about!). Also met up with Darja again, who had already done the rounds of the airport, told us where the free internet was, and was all ready to board her own plane to Spain (does anyone else find it odd that Spain is cold? Apparently). After sitting and waiting on the floor in various places around the airport, it was time to board again. 12 hours of music and movies and vain attempts to sleep later, and it was Copenhagen airport coming in to view (or it would have been except this time I didn’t have the window seat). We wandered around for a while trying to find out where to catch our next plane, and hoping that our baggage had indeed been swapped to the next flight as promised in Melbourne. Found which gate I was to be boarding my Århus (pronounced Aw-hoos) plane from, and decided it was time to make my way there (I was the only one on that flight). First I could not find how to get into “Departures,” and the first people I asked were not English. Duh. When I finally found the right passage there was no one around, as I was a little early. I tried to look cool sitting at the tables, but I was so terrified of missing the plane that I couldn’t sit still and decided to go back. This time there were more people heading in my direction, always a good sign. The gate had been changed from A27 to A28 but that was ok, they were pretty close to each other. I made myself comfortable in the cushy chairs and relaxed, but when I next looked up my gate had been changed to A27 again. The same thing happened a third time so I decided that it would be safer to sit in the space between the two lounges, which harboured the TV screen displaying this information. As I was waiting, trying to look inconspicuous and composed, an announcement came over the speaker. All I caught was my name and, “to Terminal 1 please.” Oh dear (or something a little stronger anyway). I picked up my stuff and walked, and then sprinted, up the escalator and past the travelator, looking for someone who could help me find said terminal. I spotted a man in one room, who turned out to be a cleaner who (lucky) spoke “a little” English. He told me how to get to Terminal 1, and it turned out to be exactly the way I had just come. In fact, I was already in Terminal 1. Damn. I ran back, terrified that I was being called over because my flight was leaving, even though it shouldn’t be for another 10 minutes. I asked a woman who told me that if I was in the right place then just to sit down and wait. Ok, I can do that. I was just getting my breath back when the announcement came over again. I calmly rose (although my heart was in my throat), and went to see another woman who was standing idle at the gate I should be leaving from. “Yes, that’s me… A phone call? Hello? Oh…” It was the woman from Aspect (the Danish branch of Southern Cross) telling me that we were supposed to meet her in the main area before heading off to our flights, and was I where I was meant to be? Well, I thought so… But no one else in our group knew about meeting her there (at least I hope, they certainly didn’t say anything) so I can only wonder if there were more little Australians wandering around or whether I was the only naughty one. Oh well.
Finally we boarded the plane, from gate A26 mind you, and I was able to enjoy the incredible chill of Denmark: -2 degrees. It was refreshing, I can say that at least. Had to decide whether 18D was an aisle seat or a window one, and accidentally sat in 19D anyway. And so I had my first taste of not understanding a word anyone said, and looking frantically for an English-speaking translator, who took the form of a nicely dressed steward. He told me to stay where I was and not to worry. Hrm, bit late for reassurance. Oh well (that has become my motto I think). After a short flight (about half an hour I think, yet they served coffee and sandwiches anyway), a breath-taking view of the white landscape that was to become my home for the next six months, with its snow covered rooves and trees and beaches (snow next to the sea is odd…) we were welcomed to Århus and left to our own devices. To my relief my bag had made it too, and I was able to spot Birgitte (pronounced Bee-gee-dah), Knud (Nood) and the Frenchman, who smiled and waved from the other side of the glass. When I walked out of the airport it was snowing, which was pretty awesome. I had to tell the Frenchman that we did indeed have snow in Australia, although I had never been, and also tell Knud that we had kilometres etc (I don’t think he believed me). Drove the 20 minutes home, rubber-necking the whole way trying to take it all in, called Dad when I got there, had lunch (the famous Danish “open sandwiches”), went to check in is a temporary citizen, met the kids (Danes shake hands to say hello), went to bed. Ahh, sleep…
20-01
Because there was ice on the snow, which made it hard for the cars to drive on the road, school was cancelled. Mine was not though, so at 10o’clock Birgitte and I went to meet the headmaster and find out when I would start. I was put into class 2A, which is the second level in the three year “gymnasium”. We study English (which I like because I understand what’s going on!), German (which I don’t have to do, as it gets quite confusing when I can’t tell if they’re speaking German or Danish), History, “Naturfag” (they explained it as Nature, but more on that later), Sport, Drama, Spanish, Danish, and Geography.
After a tour of the school, Birgitte and I went shopping. In what I assume was a hardware store, you take a clipboard and fill in what you want, and then they bring it to you on a conveyor belt. Next was the pet shop to buy food for their enormous dog (who is practically a bear, and is apparently going to get bigger), and then to the shopping centre which is a lot like the plaza. The trolleys, which were kept outside, all had snow on the handles and in them, and dripped all over the floor. We bought food (found some XXXX in the foreign beer shelf), socks and a scarf, and then a couple of little kids books so that I could learn how to pronounce 3-letter words. It’s hard. All these made up letters, Æ Ø Å, are difficult to say (and confuse me when I’m trying to type because the keyboard is rearranged to accommodate them), and sometimes you don’t say the last letter…. But we’re still trying! Apparently there’s a language school that I can go to, but we haven’t heard anything about when it starts…
That afternoon Charlotte (She-lotta), Jens (Yens) and I ran around in the snow for a bit, throwing snowballs at the icicles hanging from the roof, and seeing who could prise the biggest sheet of ice off the tractors and various objects scattered around their shed. Had an impromptu snowball fight with Jens - finding the biggest lumps of snow and hurling them at each other was lots of fun! Got very wet and cold though, but it is always warm enough in the house (my room is usually about 22 degrees)and there's a nifty little cupboard with a heater in it for drying out our clothes. This comes in handy because long jeans have a tendency to soak up the snow... Mmmm, wet ankles...

To be continued...

I’ve just revisited November 23rd’s entry to find: “…I’ll get malaria or typhoid or Hep B or something instead…” Very ironic, as Thursday I was indeed vaccinated against these very diseases, so that I can go to Thailand. Typhoid in the left, hepatitis (unfortunately it was A, not B, so my story’s not quite as good) in the right, malaria tablets to take when I get there. Oh, have I mentioned this yet? I’m going to Thailand for 2 weeks, merely 3 weeks after I arrive in Denmark! My “family” are holidaying there in February, and gave me the choice of coming with them or staying at home with the grandparents… ahhhhh I think I’ll come! I just had a look at the website of the resort we will be staying at for 5 days, and there’s so much to do there (massages, pools, waterslides, gyms, “mini-mart”) that I doubt I will even have to venture outside the gates for entertainment! So I’ve packed an extra pair of shorts, endured the appropriate injections and let’s just hope “medium McNugget meal” is pronounced the same in Thaliand…
I do wonder what it will be like without me here. I’m sure you all will survive, but the linen cupboard will definitely suffer (I take it upon myself to every few months straighten up the piles of towels and sheets as no one else seems to respect order around here), as will the clothesline (my new system invovles all the pegs being hooked on, so to speak, by their largest hole, so to speak, so that they slide along the line easily to the needed position. Dad doesn’t approve, nor will he allow me to take the pegs off and put them into a bag, and we care very much despite the fact that neither of us does the washing very often…). I don’t really contribute much else actually… But it’s very odd to think that I won’t be doing any of it soon. And I can’t even imagine what it will be like over there, although I do have pictures in my mind… haven’t dreamt about it as yet, which is probably a good thing. My subconsious mustn’t be too worried.
I’ve packed all my clothes, which has become annoying because everytime I want to wear something I have to dig it out. My suitcase weighs 18kg so far, and I’m told the limit is 20. Not bad, but I dread to think how it will be coming back; I may have to donate some authentic Aussie clothes to the Danish op-shops. Hey, do they have op-shops? It’s all these little things that I’m looking forward to learning; the small things that make a culture. And I’m hoping that, as the Bay-Smidts have had an Aussie exchange student before, I won’t be expected to be too much of an embassador (as was suggested at my interview). I’m not sure I know all that much about here…
On Wednesday we went to Narnia (the movie obviously, my cupboard doesn’t lead anywhere unless you have a big axe and chop through to the next room), after having pizza in the park (it’s very difficult to order pizza these days: everytime you ask for something they give you two choices! Pan-fried or thick crust? Supreme or Super Supreme? Who cares?? I just want pizza! Plus they only offer “regular” and “large” in some kind of psychological mind-game to make you think you’re getting lots of food. In the end, Frankie made them all large so we had a whole one left over). And I wasn’t too disappointed in the movie either (except perhaps the witch), so I left feeling quite relieved. But if they plan to make all 7 books, then I hope we won’t see too much of a quality decrease. At least it’s not always the same children (apparently, I havent actually read the others but now I think I’d like to), so we won’t see another Harry Potter dilemma. Damn these growing teenagers.
After the movie we went to McDonalds (I think I should talk to them about a sponsorship deal) and Tennille and I stared at people through the lattice-work (not really sure what you actually call it but anyhow), trying to weird them out. We were doing fine (i.e. even 7-year-olds were shooting us looks of distain), until one chick tried to beat us at our own game by staring back and we had to accept defeat. When Josh knocked off at 10 we all went for a drive down “Rowers” with the hoons (of which there was a disappointing lack of) and stood around trying to look like we were cool. I think we pulled it off…
Saturday was a farewell BBQ at MacWilliams’ place for Josh, his mate Pete, and I. It was a great night (they will be reading this, hello!), and I don’t think I’ve had so many hugs in one night, making me feel very loved indeed.
We were all thoroughly entertained by Joseph and Joel as per usual. Although I did have to console Ethan at one point, because Joel decided that we should find a Beatle’s song for each letter of the alphabet, and he only knew sports trivia. We decided that this was ok, and they were all geeks anyway.
Spent Sunday afternoon til night at Simon’s with Bianca, Joel and Joseph watching funny stuff and haven’t done too much else since. I talked to a record number of people for a holiday weekday: 4 on the internet, 1 on the phone, 1 smsing and 3 came round. Phew! Can I go back to being antisocial now?
Oh, and welcome any newcomers to my life in written format. This blog will now serve as a mass communication medium for all those who would rather be emailed. But I’m too lazy for that. My only advice to the world is don’t look into the past, as I didn’t know you were coming here. Ah well, you knew I was a git already. Now “leave a comment”!

Well, well. Happy New Year, and all that guff. A quaint phrase, much like “Have a nice day” or “How are you?” No one really means it. This happiness was wished upon me by many people at work on Saturday, so hopefully the cumulative force of their good-will and compassion (why is negativity a word but positivity not?? Sorry, that’s just the word I was going to use there) will indeed bring me luck in 2006. Pity it’s only a formality. Nevertheless, in the hope of making a fresh, untainted start to the next chapter of my “life” I took down the peacock feather that I’ve had on my pinboard since about August, because apparently they bring bad luck. If it works, I think I’ll become superstitious. Until then I’ll just keep wearing my lucky jocks and try not to walk under any ladders.
I’ve been looking at some other people’s blogs, recounting highlights of the year, and so attempted to do the same myself. I got out the calendar and tried to find one exciting thing or turning point for each month and all I could come up with included no more than “hair cut” and “last week of school.” So I’m not sure if I changed, or if 2005 was a year that I will look back on and remember fondly from the future. I remember the first day of school, and I do feel like I was different, but I can’t work out how. So instead of delving into the terrifying abyss that I call my “mind,” I think I’ll just write about my week. You didn’t expect anything more, did you?
This year was Christmas with Mum’s side of the family, which consists of the four of us, and her parents. Kate and I slept til about 9:30, a visit from Santa failing to bring the excitement it used to, and we were eventually forced out of bed because the croissants were burning. Ate too many and began to suffer the “traditional mix of good food and violent stomach cramp” that come with the season. We then opened presents, and Mum seemed quite pleased with the fact that her loving daughters had managed gifts this year, even if her husband hadn’t. Kate found an awesome bubble making machine for Dad, which we immediately ran outside to play with it. Unfortunately we then had to sit for 20 minutes while Dad took it apart to find out why it wouldn’t work (the plastic tubing had sealed itself shut inside and the fluid couldn’t get through). Imagine the millions of scenes across the country, nay the world, as little Timmy opens his fantastic present only to find that it doesn’t work, and Dad can’t fix it, and Mum’s yelling, and Kmart’s closed, and Timmy cries, and Christmas is ruined again…
Anyway, Mr Fix-it got it working with the help of his sonic screwdriver and Kate’s bobby-pin, and we went on to produce some on the most amazing bubbles since Dopey swallowed a cake of soap in “Snow White”. They were heeee-uge! It was a significantly unpleasant day in Adelaide, but the ever-present wind was lifting the bubbles up and blowing them further than we could see, without popping them. And the extreme bubbles which were too big to even assume spherical shape were split into lots of smaller ones and carried away into the neighbour’s washing. Sheer delight. And if you held the contraption at waist height and walked backwards so the wind was blowing the bubbles out in a long tube, you could pretend you were in “Donny Darko”…
I should explain that bubbles are a tradition of ours, dating way back to when we were little and cute enough to wear homemade red Christmas dresses and watch Dad blow bubbles using wire and dishwashing liquid. Now I’m wondering if this was more for his benefit than ours…
After the traditional lunch of “meat and 3 vege” (which the immediate family complains about when we get home but I rather like because it means I actually get to eat something instead of being served a special meal of ham and cheese because everyone else is having garlic prawns and broccoli-stuffed asparagus, or something equally as unfathomable), we were all exhausted and come 2o’clock we up and left the grandparents to their newspapers and electronic Tetris and quietly snuck off to bed. Night was so uneventful that I can’t even remember what we had for tea.
The next day we drove about an hour to the other side of the family, for stress release and more bubbles. This time they were also enjoyed by the two year old cousin, so we had a proper excuse to get excited. Apparently I have another cousin on the way, which is fine and dandy except it’s not fair!! All Kate and I ever wanted was cousins when we were younger, as we were the only children on both sides of the family for 16 years. And soon we will have 3 ankle-biters to entertain and, what’s more, they all have cousins on the other side too! All I ever wanted was a friend…
So more presents (money, in my case, to be redeemed later for a digital camera to take to Denmark), more food, more boredom. The mother and aunties went off for a walk late afternoon, so the rest of us stayed on the couch, watching Monty Python and eating Mars Bars. I screened “Friday” and my year 12 movie for the family, which they enjoyed (or pretended to, which was sufficient) before grudgingly biding them all goodbye (tearfully, in one hormonal auntie’s case as she realised she won’t see me again before I leave for Denmark), and returning to Mum’s parents. Bed, sleep.
Tuesday brought the revelation that we had chosen to spend one day to many in the house, as we hadn’t actually been anywhere or done anything with them for the duration of our stay. We all went to bed again, this time leaving Mum to play Scrabble with her parents (something we were scolded for later), and eventually Dad and I escaped to go for a walk up to the supermarket. We did a lap of the outside of the shopping complex, and were walking around the back where no self-respecting citizen would be found, when we spotted a grey rabbit making a dash for the shipping container. We snuck up to try and cut it off, but it had disappeared underneath. Disappointed we walked away, but suddenly noticed several more bunnies running wild across the path. Sighting a nice fluffy black one which we hoped was half-tame, we chased it up and down the grassy hill yelling and shouting, in our half-crazed bid to rid ourselves of 4 days claustrophobia. We were soon both out of breath, and it began to rain so we abandoned our assault but decided it was still too early to go back and went for a walk around their suburbia to salvage a few more precious minutes of freedom. When we did leave on Wednesday morning, I don’t think anyone was regretful. Oh now that’s not nice… ha.
I’ll move on to New Years now, because I wouldn’t want to bore you… I know, I know, I should have blogged before. I tend to save it all up into one biiiiiiiiig blog. Just come back tomorrow and read the second half, if it makes you feel any better. Remember, you may be tested on this.
Saturday, as you will no doubt remember, was one of the hottest days I think we’ve had around here. In the whole of forever, I reckon. It was 44˚C at 3pm, and still 40 at 9. Surely the obvious thing to do was to be down the river… but after a biscuit ride with Rhys which resulted in my being hit in the head twice and seeing flashes before my eyes, I soon had a headache and a nauseous stomach and went home to throw up and sit under the cold shower (which was actually warm because the water tank was in the sun). Ahh, summer. And to think that it’s –10˚C in Denmark.
When I was feeling better after watching the best of “The Two Ronnies” with a wet flannel on my stomach, it was time to set out for the Fords’ house, which was donated as an alternative venue when we realised the Mansells’ paddleboat would be far too hot to welcome the new year in. This year’s Scandinavian theme inspired the wearing of braces and garlands, high socks and little hats, tennis outfits and reindeer ears. Emily arrived just in time to watch our parents dance around the Maypole which must have been quite an welcome for her! I did warn her… We then played the popular game of “Whoop-bang” which always proves popular and the newcomers caught on quite quickly, and then ate dessert and were kicked outside before we split anything on the sofas. We were handed party poppers and whistles a little too early, and made a lot of noise before it was time, but then made a lot more noise afterwards to make up for it. A verse of “Old acquaintance be forgot,” to which very few knew all the words, some hand holding, some hugging and lots more noise… then it was time to devise a “cunning plan” to escape the idolising clutches of the “little boys” so that we teens could go and be adult somewhere else. Adult, in our case, means glow sticks and cards of course. We managed to sneak off to the Cooks’ house, where we played “Balderdash” and three rounds of Scumbags and Warlords (which I managed to come second last in twice, and then last. Go me), until the numbers began to dwindle and we realised we’d need a powernap if we were going to make it back to the boat for sunrise. We chose a couch each, set the alarm on my (new) phone for 5:45 and managed an unbelievable half hour’s sleep. I was impressed. We woke feeling revitalised, dropped Joseph off at the Fords’ (I’m having trouble with the apostrophe here, I know you don’t care but I do, and I can’t work out where to put it…) to pick up his car, and then fanged it down to Karadoc in plenty of time to watch the first dawn of the new year. Pity about the trees, but anyway. We breakfasted and then some went for a ski – the cold rushing air ripping out my eyeballs certainly helped to get me awake at least. By 8 it was really starting to warm up so we piled back in the car, leaving the Mansells on their boat, and I was home at 8:30 to find the door locked and Mum blearily groping for the switch to turn the door sensor off (which buzzes annoyingly loud whenever anything passes the front gate, including shadows or leaves) and let me in. Got to bed not ready for sleep, so I hooked up the laptop and watched a couple of episodes of “Spaced.” Realised I probably was a tiny bit tired, and then managed 4 hours sleep before it got too hot to be in the room. It all caught up with me at 5 that evening, so I went back to bed and didn’t get up until 12:30 the next day. I was very proud of myself.
So there you have it. In other news, I have been in correspondence with my Danish host family, and they seem very nice, and a Brisbane girl called Anna who lived with them last year for 10 months called me on Thursday to give me the goss. So now I’ve got “Happy Hour” at school on a Friday with beer and live music to look forward to, along with more beer, clubbing, and plenty of public transport. Oh, and getting really fat (she put on 20kg in the year. Blimey. I think I might not take too many clothes, as none will fit me by the end of this!). The scary thing is there’s only 14 days until I leave the country. “Eek.”