my  block

where uzairs roam

I never got around to writing about the last 2 days of the Denmark trip, primarily because I was sick. I had a bad feeling about that tuna sandwich I had on Saturday night, and sure enough I threw it up at about 4AM on Sunday morning. I didn’t feel well at all when I got up in the morning, so I got myself some orange juice and rice porridge (risengrød with strawberry jam — the Danes have great taste!) and just sat in the hostel lounge for a while.

By the time I mustered the energy to head out, it was early afternoon. I had covered everything except Christianshavn/Christiania on Saturday, so there was really little left to do other than head up to Hellerup.

For some reason, I had naively assumed that Hellerup was the train station near our house, so that’s where I made my way to. I really wasn’t feeling well on the train, so I rested for a while at the station before I headed out…and discovered I had no idea where I was. After walking along the street leading away from the station for about 10 minutes, I ducked into a 7-11 for help, where a friendly clerk pulled out a mapbook and photocopied the relevant pages for me. Apparently, the station near our house is Emdrup, for which I had to go down from Hellerup to Ryparken (just 1 stop) and then switch lines. Another half hour on the trains (they run every 20 minutes or so, which isn’t very often compared to London/Chicago), and I was at Emdrup.

It took me a minute to get my bearings, and then I walked across the road to our park (Emdrup søparken on the map). It was just as I remembered it, beautiful and serene; I took a few pictures and sat on a bench for a while soaking it in, the dandelion-filled fields on one side, the lake and its little island on the other. Then I walked over the bridge and along the little path that leads to the alley towards our house. It was amazing how everything was just as I remembered it — the felled logs next to the path, the noise of the highway on the other side of the lake, the ducks paddling along in the water.

In a couple of minutes, I had walked through the alley and crossed the street, and suddenly I was right behind the house, looking at it from an angle I didn’t have a recollection of. I could only see the roof and the windows to WAC and Ammi/Abbu’s room, and then as I came up along it, I could see SAA’s window too. The hedge was massive as I remembered and just as imperfectly manicured. When I turned the corner (and crossed the street so I could get a clear, full view of the house), I was a little surprised: the house looked…small. And tired, though that was clearly subjective. There were some tiles missing from the front step, and the paint on the front door looked dirty. That’s where I had my first sentimental moment of the trip. And it was strangely satisfying to think the house missed us like we miss it. I snapped a few photos (they’re on the way, see below), and made my way up Birkehøj to the main road, and then started walking toward the school.

So, down Tuborgvej, across the highway, left at Bernstorffsvej, 2 blocks down and there I was! And again, small. But otherwise, exactly as it was. The hedge that seemed so high when I was a kid was now low enough that I could lean over and look into the playground, which was … just as it was! Literally, nothing had changed, even the storage trailer (which was put in the playground an eternity ago, presumably when some construction was being done) was still there. I noticed a sign on the boundary that indicated they’re constructing a new building for the International Department, which is to be expected, I guess, given that the current building is so old.

I walked on, to the front of the school. My feet were aching (all the walking the previous day gave me blisters), so I sat down on one of the rocks around the round-about in front of school. I have a vague memory of Abbu dropping us off in the morning at the primary department entrance, when the round-about was packed with cars. It was completely empty when I went (which made sense, given that it was a Sunday in the middle of summer vacation), so I had an unobstructed view of the building. I used to think passing from the primary department to the senior section through the school offices was exciting because of the endless doors you had to open and close to pass from one corridor to the next, but looking at the building, I realised it couldn’t have been a walk of more than 100 feet! My sense of size and length must have been completely skewed as a child…

I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do at the school, given that it was closed, so I put my camera on a stone in the round-about and took a picture of me sitting on the staircase. And then had a sentimental moment. Then I walked round to the church (Sunday, might’ve been open!). Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

I had to walk back to the side of the school to get into the grounds. The gate was unlocked, so I figured no one would mind. Once I rounded the building, I realised things weren’t all as they used to be: the little pathway that led to the Danish Department has been replaced by a small building, apparently for the primary school, and across the grounds is the new gym (which looks horrible — it juts out of nowhere, and although they’ve tried to make it match the rest of the buildings, it’s come out an ugly mustardy yellow). Everything else seemed much the same; I took a picture of the field where we used to have our sports day and then walked down the path between the fields. I was a little disappointed to see that the awesome grove of trees that we used to have so much playing in and climbing has been dug up — there’s literally a massive mound of dirt sitting there — to make room for another small building. I walked down the little path from there to the old gym, and then by the wall of graffiti (which is really peeling off now) and then out the back towards the train station. I noticed a big sign that said ‘hundevakt’ as I passed through the gate — I must’ve gotten lucky! :)

I got a weird sense of deja vu as I got nearer the train station, and then realised that I was at Hellerup station again! Yes, the same station I had walked around a few hours earlier and then taken two trains from to get to Emdrup. Urrrrgh.

I was feeling quite ill at this point, and was really looking forward to getting back to the hostel and sleeping. The bakery next to the station was closed, so I couldn’t get anything to snack on, and just waited for the train. I got a filet-o-fish (grr, more fish…) at Mickey D’s on the way, and then got back to the hostel at about 10PM, and fell asleep almost immediately.

I was determined to try to make the most of the 6 or so hours I had the next day but there wasn’t anything left on my list of things to do, so I walked the walking street again (had another ’soft ice’ cone), and then went down to Christianshavn for a quick look at Christiania. SK had suggested visiting, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. Turns out it’s a commemorative site for some hippie event from 1982 (mildly behind the times, the Danes), and consisted of lots of stalls where tourists could buy t-shirts that read ‘Beware Christiania!’, Jamaican tam caps, and bongs. I stopped for a breather outside a pub and was approached by a guy who swore he had been to Kashmir. I asked him what Christiania was and he answered, “It’s a place where people love life, they love freedom, and they love hash!” Umm, right. Get me out of here. Suddenly the shirtless men walking around with mangy dogs made a little more sense. The dude I was talking to spotted a cop and walked off, apparently to smoke some stuff his friends had bought for him.

Anyway, there wasn’t much time before my flight, so I went back to the town square and walked around a little more. I ducked into Scala, which is now limited to the bar on the ground floor — the rest has been closed for refurbishment. Then I weaved my way around Tivoli to the main train station and went to the airport.

Altogether a good trip, and one I hope to repeat at some point. I think 4 days alone there was stretching it a little, primarily because I didn’t venture outside Copenhagen. If my visa wasn’t dual-entry, I would have liked to cross the bridge into Sweden for half a day or so. The highlight was clearly the trip up to Hellerup, even though being ill dampened my spirits a little.

I don’t think I’m done with Denmark yet.