No Rest

2015 gives me great pangs of anxiety before it has even begun. This is perhaps not the right way to start a new year, but what is a new year? Just a change of a date, not the clean slate most purport it to be. Little rays of sunshine in the form of Skype sessions with friends and family interrupt the permanent sensation of panic (that is, in part at least, self-inflicted through my procrastination and weak prioritisation, which goes a bit like this: hmm, we should read those texts. Ja. Let's bake cookies instead and iron the clothes that have been gathering over weeks. Smart move.).

Yesterday I spoke with two friends, both currently in Pretoria, both complaining about the heat and the mosquitoes, both in summery clothes. Then there was me, heater turned up, with a cup of peppermint tea in one hand and an enormous sweater wrapped around my body. We talked as though distance did not exist about the trivial things, the everyday embarrassments and tiny bits of gossip. My one friend was knitting and laughing as I told him about a series of cringe-worthy events from the past week. It was wonderful.

High Hopes

“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”

― Miriam Adeney

After 6 years of friendship and living on two different continents for most of those years, my friend has finally managed to visit me (usually I would manage to win a trip to Paris and see her). We spent three days in Flensburg just catching up and testing how long we could lounge around on the couch before we headed to Copenhagen for three days.

It is the most silent city, like a ghost town. Even the swarms of furiously pedaling cyclists make no sound. Very strange. I don't know if it is the climate or because we were there during the week, but the noiselessness was astonishing.

The first day we arrived, booked into our hostel and walked to the Tietgenkollegiet near the University of Copenhagen. It is a residence that looks as though the architect was playing a game of Jenga. There we also saw the Konserthuset (concert hall) before finding our way back to the main shopping street Strøget to eat something (which turned out to be Burger King because it was the cheapest). 

That evening we found the only source of sound in the entire city: our hostel. Monday nights were apparently acoustic night or something and there was a band playing below us (our room was directly above the bar/check-in) til well into the night.

Hello Copenhagen.

Tietgenkollegiet, or playing Jenga. 

The next day we made our way to a bakery because we thought we'd always grab some Danish pastry for breakfast, but sadly the store had disappeared. We found another though and then walked past Nyhavn to the Amalienborg castle to see the changing of the guard.

Like in John Irving's Til I Find You. 

Changing of the very young guards.

Then we jumped on a canal tour and saw the city from the water. We were extremely lucky with the weather during our entire stay in Copenhagen. Given that it was not even spring yet it was fairly warm and we had no rain. Yay! NO RAIN!!!

Nyhavn

Vor Freisers Kirke

After the hour-long boat ride I spent more money on a pair of beautiful earrings than on the entire trip (bad bad Sabine) . We wanted to go up the Vor Freisers Kirke but were too late so we instead went directly to Christiania, which is a neighbourhood that doesn't see itself as belonging to the EU and where drugs are dealt openly. It was a bit too hippy-ish for us so we went in search of pastry yet again and walked along Strøget (it is one of the longest shopping streets in the world, so enough space to drift along silently). 

It was so good to get away from Flensburg for a few days and to spend time with someone where I don't need to explain my jokes or feel self conscious about what I am allowed to say without being too honest. It is a strange tightrope one walks when being alone in a new place and has to find new friends. But it makes me all the more thankful for the old ones that I can carry with me whether they live in the same city, the same country or 12 000km away.