A trip to Copenhagen
Part 2: Cups of Cappuccino
A bridge that
ends in nowhere is the first thing I see of Copenhagen.
A beautiful long bridge, with a ship passing under it, with
traffic on it, ending on a triangle island that is surrounded
by water. It must be a Fata Morgana.
bridge: the airport. Little red and white striped houses.
Blue airplanes. Passport control. A duty free mile to walk
through. Behind the exit door, not a Fata Morgana: my friend
Vicky, waiting for me.
clean train takes us to the city centre. On the other platform,
a train to Malmö. Just some minutes away, both of it.
"You gotta be careful not to fall asleep on the way
to the airport, otherwise you wake up in fucking Sweden",
someone says, summing up the sympathy for the neighbours
in a single sentence.
Then it's Copenhagen
Central Station and a city of old houses and little streets,
of bicycles in rows and coffee shops in corners. Cups of
chocolate and cappuccino in front of us, we watch life pass
by in a leisurely pace through the window of Neptun.
Signs on the
houses tell that it's Norregade here, and that's Vestergade
that way. And there is Studiestræde,
an with it the first time i see the a and e melted into
the wall: Dubrovnik on call, Eric Clapton and Volvo parking
only, Guns'n'Roses and Godzilla, look there, across the
water, a white villa.
Part 3: Danish Drizzle