Now Approaching Relaxation

A much needed vacation. I had no trouble getting up with an early alarm. The northern world is dark and cold at that time of day. It's the first I'd been out that early and it was almost mystical. Riding the bus into the city we passed through big intersections, and there were already swarms of biking commuters. I hadn't been back to the airport since arriving. It was pretty amazing how much I'd forgotten.

A sleepy day of travel always seems to take on this hushed sound for me. Dreams cloud my ears and act like a low pass filter. Everything I hear is muffled and distant. In the airport I go autopilot like always to get to the terminal. I walk fast. Once I'm through security I wait, dazed, for boarding time. It's become routine. To pass time I usually admire various ridiculous traveling attire. High-heels usually take the cake.

The ticket said Rome, but it felt like Spain. As we drove through the city, the corner fruit bodegas and fashionable Italians were more like memories than discoveries. I guess the similarities just made me comfortable. For a week it was my home.

My troubles were jettied at about 30,000 feet. My computer went from an overworked calculator on steroids to a radio/movie theater. My heavily socked cold feet burried in clogs turned dirt covered in comfortable sandals. A mind at work became a mind at rest. What were once worries of academics were replaced with creative culinary strategies on a loose schedule. I also went from a comfortable bed to a cold floor, but the accomodation was cheap so I can't complain.


Night Traffic

Damian lives about a 20 minute walk from the Colosseum. Once there the city gets pretty surreal. Especially at night. Everything is just so damn massive. It really is beautiful. But when you get past that, you're brought back to the realities of it all. The city center is a pool of tourists. Everywhere you look there is some tour group with the guide holding up a flag for everyone to follow. Everyone knows tourists have money, so with that comes beggars and street performers. Then top that all off with some pretty bad pollution. Needless to say it takes away from it all. But as long as you're persistent and well hydrated, you can escape that.

We walked, then we'd walk some more. Some days it was more than 7 hours that we'd be exploring the city. I wish I came with an odometer. The farther you walk from the city center, the fewer the tourists, and the more it feels like Italy. For me that's when it really soaks in. It becomes what it's meant to be. Kids playing soccer in the street, and families gathered in the parks just sitting and talking. Something about it is so real and refreshing. To me, traveling is discovering those little places. And sometimes it takes a great effort, but it's always worth it.



Bruschetta

Around mid-afternoon we'd start thinking about food. You know me, I get excited about it. And especially in Italy. A five liter jug of wine for five euros along with the most delicious produce and fresh breads with Italian cheeses and pasta and proscuito and pancetta... I may have overindulged myself a bit. And of course Italian coffee for breakfast and after meals; I normally don't drink that stuff but I was told it helps digestion. What a wonderful way to live. And again, I find myself envying Damian. The young scholar has graduated and is moving on to better things. Yellowstone, Rome, an Ecuadorian lover (or princess as he calls her), and more free time than I've seen in years. This is the way I like to vacation. Visit great friends in great places at great times in their lives.

And I'm Off

The break has finally come. Highly anticipated, much needed. Damian, having graduated, is... well... he's living. A summer in Yellowstone and now a year in Rome. A good friend living in Europe provides the opportunity for a nice vacation with a cheap accomodation. I can't pass that up. I will be cooking, walking, writing, and enjoying. Expect many pictures.

When I arrive the city will sing. Or maybe that's just the way they talk. Whatever the case, goodbye Italians, hello Italy.


Gettin' the Hell Out of Dodge

Psychocybernetics

Last week was not a good week. I should have seen it coming. Or maybe I did. Maybe I wanted it to come. The 10 credit engineering course in Danish finally caught up with me. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't relax, all I could do was worry. I guess a procrastinating engineer turns into a philosopher on occation. It's just that I have certain personal morals when it comes to education, and when they're being broken, it bothers me. I have to ask why and if it's really worth it. Last year, my hard work got me here. This year, my hard work gets me... a piece of paper with my name on it? Obviously there's a lot more to it, but do I really want it and is it right for me? Who knows what it is. Maybe it's just because it's my 5th year and I'm suppose to be done. The 4th year is senioritis. I had plenty of that. So what's the 5th year? Apathy, denial, increased tendancy to throw hissy fits? I suppose I've got that covered as well. But on a more positive note, I still love the idea of grad school. Guess that means I'm all mixed up.

So with the winter coming, I've got to take full advantage of what little sun there is. Thursday a ray of light snuck through my window and it was plenty enough inspiration for a long bike ride around Lyngby. I had a direction in mind, somewhere I hadn't been. The problem is getting there. Not because it's difficult or complicated to actually navigate the way there, simply because there are too many distractions. Five minutes on the road and I see a bike path leading down to a big pond. On an impulse I decide to try that way. I know I could always turn around if I need to, but I also know that I'm more than likely too stubborn to do so. In that sense it gives the whole ride a bit more adventure. I think it deserves to be called that, considering my inability to speak Danish, reliance on a shitty map, and my simple stubborn disposition. Anyways, what a beautiful ride. Once I made it far enough in that certain direction, I stopped to look at my map to see if I could figure out what path I had taken to get there. After riding another five minutes I realized the map had disappeared from my pocket. So that's the end of that. Guess I'm asking for a compass for Christmas.




A Peaceful Peninsula


The clouds stayed away and I rode for a good two and a half hours. On a bike path burried between a lake and expensive houses, I found a bench meant for me and stopped to have a sandwich. In a place like this I know that this is exactly where I'm suppose to be. So I took my time. I stopped and walked out on docks, took far too many pictures, and even went as far as to taste all the fruit on the different bushes I see. So far I'm at a 25% success rate with that. I've tried things that look like grapes, but taste like a very powerful sponge. Then there are bright red ones that look like tomatos wearing skirts. I also found something that looks exactly like yogurt covered raisins. How great that would have been. But no luck. I have found some good blackberries though.



My Shortcut Home

Progress

It's been over a month now. I have come face to face with my idiotic and naive ambitions, and recognizing this and letting ago has been the real achievement so far. First off, Danish, is not an easy language to learn... at all. It's extremely difficult actually, especially when trying to keep up in demanding classes, two of which are in Danish. Somehow, somewhere in the past two years or so, I've mistakingly built up this over confidence in myself and my ability. Where I got that from, I really do not know. I'm the type of person who makes even the most simple tasks difficult, so thinking that I could actually come here and do the things I wanted is beyond me. It's as though for the past month I've been trying to build this strong comfortable foundation for myself, but the only thing I have to build with is cooked spaghetti. Man I'm hungry... but these ideas are what I'm all about. If I can make five of one hundred come true, then I'm doing well. I've just got to learn to recognize when to let go, back off, chill, enjoy what I have and where I am.

So you'll have to be patient with me. I'm adjusting, and slowly realizing this isn't a Spanish vacation in Denmark. And I've also found those wheels I was looking for. Yeah yeah, it may be a lady's bike, but guys ride them out here, and the basket up front and rack in the back make it perfect for groceries. What's important is that it's in good condition, and that I don't ever have to pay for the bus again if I don't want to. The 12 km trek from Copenhagen with no map only took 45 minutes. That includes the time that I was lost. Not bad...


My High School Lover



The Dark Danish Mistress

Lately I've heard grumblings of my Mediterranean containermates concerning the looming Danish winter. Rightly so... It can be a depressing place. Far less sunshine, more rain, snow, and overall the fear of succumbing to the purpose of the container: to contain things. That means less clubbing, less beyond-container-walls drinking, and to many that insinuates less living. We might as well hibernate like bears. I know I enjoy a good nap on occasion. But for me, it usually also means a bit more art. And honestly, if it weren't for engineering, I'd be doing this a heck of a lot more. I've uploaded some new pictures to a new set so check it out. I'm hoping to be working with a new medium soon, instead of the generic photoshop. So with a little luck and a lot of time management, soon, I'll be posting some images that are a bit more interesting. Until then, enjoy.


One Saturday Morning