Thursday, March 10, 2011

Number Eight. (Berlin).

Wednesday at noon in Copenhagen. It is a bright and sunny day and it is flooding through the windows of the old and rustic train station. This is the first time either of us have taken a train in Europe and so at first we are a bit confused as to where to go and where to be, but quickly figured it out. As the train pulls out of Copenhagen I feel a slight ping in my heart, hoping that one day I will be lucky enough to come back. 

We chug-a-lug through the picturesque winter countryside, the sun bright in our eyes. I listen to music and Corey pulls out his laptop to try and get at least SOME work done. An older Danish woman sits across from us eating a yogurt and cucumber sandwich that leaves a little white mustache on her upper lip. Soon a younger Danish woman comes into the cart and sits next to the elder. A contrast not only in age but in being as well. This woman and her orange-skin, rhinestone-nails, painted-eyebrows, thigh-high-boots is listening to Jon Bon Jovi as loud as it is humanly possible to on tiny headphones and sharing it with the 'less-than-thrilled' company around. Without implying too much of my personal opinion, I was strongly ashamed of my generation at that moment. I believe I could say the same for Corey too.
Our train was supposed to arrive in Berlin around 8:30 p.m. but because of the cold, rerouting and therefore missing connections, we pulled into the extensively massive Hauptbahnhof station at about 10 p.m. instead. It was weird because it was almost completely empty, however I guess that is to be expected at that time of night on a Wednesday. We try to figure out where the hell we are on a crappy little map in a book about traveling in Europe that I have. After deliberating, walking in the wrong direction and then coming back to 'point A' again, we finally grab our bearings and end up at our hotel, where I had myself a 'swank-attack' when entering the room as I had never been inside of something quite that luxurious before. Another world I'll tell 'ya (and I'll tell you all about it if you ask).




Hotel Tryp in Berlin. The swankiest of the swank (note how Corey 'demonstrates' the heated towel rack).


Berlin is HUGE. Someone once told me that I should have someone I know there, or someone to guide me around, and now I know why. It's not that it's easy to get lost but it is impossible to get everywhere you want to go. Especially in a condensed 3 day format. There are gems everywhere but they are so spaced out from one another that you can't possibly just 'walk around' for the day and think that you will see what you want to. You need to have a plan and a relative destination. At least that's what I think. However we did manage to see a lot and go many places. I just know that I am not satisfied and must go back to experience more, because there is always more in this city. More more more...

New Year's Eve in Berlin. I have never seen so many fireworks in my whole entire life. They started around 6 p.m. and lasted all throughout the night and into the morning. I feel it safe to say that 90% of the people out on the street had bought some kind of firework or cracker and so everywhere you turned something was popping or exploding. At first I thought it was annoying, but after a while became accustomed to it and actually wished I had some of my own. 

Corey and I made it to east Berlin around 11 or so. We bought wine and beer at the gas station and wandered around the streets looking for the perfect place to be at midnight. About 5 minutes before that special time, people came out from everywhere and perched themselves over the canals setting up  fireworks and beginning the countdown. It started with the boom from where I assume was Brandenburg Gates and then the sky was lit up in every direction with more booms and crackles than anyone could ever imagine. From bridge to bridge, balcony, rooftop and everywhere in between there were at least 10 people shooting fire into the night sky. Everyone was so happy and everyone was drunk. Happy New Year. 2011.



Fireworks on a bridge in East Berlin. NYE 2010.


I am slighty awkward talking about Berlin. There is too much to see and as I said earlier, I need to see more. I have that yearning to know what it feels like and right now I only know what it looks like. Which is amazing and incredible and large and intense and full of so much history and art and beautiful people. How can I possibly write about what it's like? So, here you receive a small depiction of my first impression and the forever-memorable new year's eve spent there. And, I hope (for my sake) that in the months to come I will be able to write about my return, and all the little details I discovered while within this world-of-its-own.

But wait, I haven't told you about Amsterdam yet.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Number Seven.(København).

I have been putting off this moment. When I come to my blog and write about the incredible trip I have recently returned from. A trip that I documented extensively in writing - filling up half a Moleskine in a mere 11 day trek. My plan was to go through each day and give a summary of the best moments...a person we met or something we saw that made it's way in to my journal because it was worth remembering. And, I still fully intend on going through with this plan, but it's hard to rewrite something that has come and gone, when all you want is for it to continue. However, as defeated as that may sound, I remind myself that I AM IN SWEDEN and that is very far away from anything that I would qualify as 'normal' about my life. So, in actuality, the vacation is only half over.

BRING IT ON, EUROPE


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So we'll start from Copenhagen, where I met Corey on my twenty-sixth birthday (a champagne birthday, at that). I took the bus from Gothenburg early that day and arrived at the København aiport just in time to wait the longest 3 hours of my life until Corey's flight got in. I sat at the Burger King (there are millions of them in Scandinavia) and wrote my Grandmother a 'thank you' letter that I can honestly say was from the bottom of my heart. I recommend writing letters to Grandparents when you are emotional, anxious and in an airport; the gratitude really comes across. Anyway, Corey's flight arrived on time but it took him another HOUR to get his bags and walk through the arrival gate, at which point I thought I was going to piss my pants from both anticipation and too much coffee. It was almost too much to bear, but I did it, and when we finally got to that long awaited hug, nothing in the world could have felt better. For months I had been far from the arms of comfort, familiarity, love and home. I knew I missed it but I didn't realize how good it would feel to have it back, and Corey brought it all in 2 one meter long appendages.

The next two-and-a-half days were filled with wandering, meandering, perusing and cruising. We met Jamal, an Algerian who ran a small cafe in Christiania called Cafe CoCo and took a special liking to us Canadians. Corey and I laughed as Jamal stressed over the concept of having over 2 customers in his establishment. Within only a couple minutes he had Corey running dishes to the sink and once done with his clientele, gave me the remote to the TV and told me to stand guard has he went to take a 10 minute hash break. We spoke French with him, and learned that he moved to Copenhagen for its liberal mentality and fleet of beautiful Danish women. And it's true - they are beautiful.

Basically, if you're going to Copenhagen you need to make sure that you spend at least half your time in this area I have already mentioned: Christiania. This area also harbors a small utopic 'shanty-town' community known as Freetown. There are beautiful homes made from bits and pieces of everything, horses, fires in garbage cans, graffiti, cheap food, cheap beer, 'vendors', music, laughter and the faint yet constant aroma of hash floating in the air. It is a car free zone that is full of bikes, art and cafes. There is also 'Nemoland'. Here Corey and I found the best food in all of town. So good we even tried going back the next day, from way on the other side of the city, only to find it was closed. This is the sole reason why I need to go back.

Me drinking 'Probably The Best Beer In Town' at Nemoland.
 
  
Some graffiti and a philosophy in Freetown.


Our last night there we bunked with a courier guy named Martin whom I met through CouchSurfing. He was so sweet, and although quite shy at first, warmed up after a couple of 'beers'. He even gave up his bed for us and opted to sleep on a cot. It was kinda interesting to notice that Corey and him shared similar features: square dark-framed glasses, dark hair, pointy nose, tall... and a total music nerd. In fact, Martin had a 'copy&paste' checklist of his musical recommendations ready for us, which he promptly sent to Corey after hearing that they shared this mutual love. And, as I write this I am only now realizing the name thing - Corey&Martin (if there is a chance that anyone reads this blog, and a chance that person doesn't know Corey, FYI his last name is Martin). Yeah. Whoa.

Anyway, after more wandering and cruising, Corey and I end up at the neighborhood bar where there are old drunk men lining the counter and a group of twenty-sumthin's in the back corner, too drunk for their age (but we always are). Best of all, there's a FREE JUKEBOX with tons of 80s and 90s classics. An old man sipping on a pint puts on Aneka's, 'Japanese Boy', which is unfortunately followed by the young drunk-girl's pick of Aqua's 'Barbie Girl' (sorry, providing a link just ain't worth it). I believe Corey and I managed to slip Dolly Parton's 'Jolene' in there at some point, which seemed to satisfy the whole entire bar equally. Well done (pat on the back) guys. 4 whiskeys and 4 pints later we are feeling good enough to believe we can actually sleep. Plus, Berlin is awaiting us so it's best to get rested up for another one of those cities that never sleep.

 On the Jukebox behind Corey: Aneka's biggest fan in Denmark.


More storytelling to come.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Number Six.

It's 3:30am, December 26th. My first Christmas away from home in seven years was spent cleaning, packing, eating whatever was left in my fridge, and skyping with family across the world. As I had thought that this would be one of the loneliest days of my life, so far I have have found it difficult to be anything but giddy, as I know that tomorrow I am embarking on a trip that could very well change my life. I mean, of course it will change my life. But in that 'life-changing' way... you know? So now I'm lying here awake with my mind going in a million different directions when I should be getting my beauty rest for the travels ahead. But as I said to a close friend earlier on today, "I haven't been this excited since Christmas 1989."

Basically, I feel like I'm 5 again. Seeing the world in a new way. This experience in Sweden has already given me so much I can't wait to indulge in more. Copenhagen tomorrow, Berlin for New Year's, Amsterdam and Hamburg for the grande finale.

Great adventures lie ahead. My Grandma Kaye asked me to write them down so that I can share my stories when I get back, and I promised her I would. So I'm leaving my computer at home and taking my notebook and a couple of pens. We'll have to wait and see what comes out of it.

Goodbye laptop. Hello open road.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Number Five.

Apparently I'm slowing down with this blog thing. It's an easy thing to forget about when your mind is occupied in other directions. But I enjoy it - the thoughts and the writing that it requires of me. I guess I should pay more attention to that. I should really just pay attention in general.

It's full on winter here. It came on a Friday night in a windy, slushy fury. Now the streets are icy and crack under slippery footsteps. So many people say they hate winter, but I find that the white snow gives purpose to a grey landscape. It makes it beautiful, fragile. This is the time when we hibernate, and appreciate the warmth of our homes, and our loved ones.

Being in a far away land really allows me to contemplate the relationships in my life. They say that distance make the heart grow fonder, and in a sense that is true. I find that it is giving me the ability to look more objectively upon my life, and to appreciate connections that I have perhaps not always valued as much as I should. The memories of people, laughter and love become more prominent in my mind and everything else just kind of sifts away. There are so many things, so many people that we take for granted in this life, and we never notice until their gone... or at least, far away.

The true value of friendship. I come to Sweden and find myself, at first, aching to find a connection with someone that resembles one of the ones I have back home. How have I been so lucky to have so many amazing people surrounding me for all these years? People who love me, even after getting to know me. It's a slow but interesting process this, 'getting to know people' thing, but it's coming along. There are a few, but certain individuals I have met here who are the salt of the earth and I am grateful that this journey has brought me in to their presence. With this semester coming to an end I am finding this sort of calm coming over me about the next. Like, with the new year I will be able to see things in a new light. It's all coming together and I'm excited to see what it looks like on the other end.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Number Four.

Full on fall. Chilly days and frosty nights. There is that smell in the air, everywhere, of freshly fallen leaves decomposing in the crisp air that turns your nose red. It reminds me ever so much of home, and this nostalgic yearning for childhood I am so familiar with comes flooding back. The sound of the leaves rustling around footsteps, and the canopy of colour above is overwhelming and intensely beautiful. I keep thinking about this time long ago, when I was maybe ten years old. My Dad had been raking leaves in the back yard, and him and I both thought it would be fun to bury me in the pile. As I laid there in hiding, Dad went and brought my Mom outside, asking her if she'd seen where I had went.  I remember snickering in the leaves as she called my name in desperation, actually believing that I had run off. As she neared the pile I waited for just the right moment to jump out and surprise her.  To my disappointment, she did not find it as funny as I did. To me it was just a joke, a funny prank that neither my father nor I thought about too carefully. For her, it was the most terrifying moment in her life as a Mother. I still feel guilty to this day. I'm sorry Mom.

There's something about that moment that I want to go back to. Being buried in the crunchy leaves, playing in the yard with my Dad, comforting my mother in an embrace... the time when my parents were still together and I was still so small and naive; comforted by this protective bubble that kept reality and the world contained. I think we all long for that some times, and for some reason the fall is when it happens most. The changing of seasons, the instinctual preparation for hibernation, it is a time of reflection and reminiscence of past moments and memories. Before the spring comes and we begin anew.

I woke up early enough this morning to witness the frost covered grass. Biking to school I would break the top of the icy puddles with my tires, crunch the leaves underneath them. The birds chirping, I could see the frost on the trees evaporating like smoke from the sun's heat. The morning is so magical and not something that I see enough of these days. Living alone I find that it is difficult to get out of the house early. I can sip on coffee and check my email for hours. But this morning was enough to remind me of what I'm missing when I log into my virtual world, without checking out the real one. The sun is beginning to set real early too, around 5:30 p.m. at the latest, and it's only going to get worse. Daylight is of the essence.

Winter is coming.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Number Three.

There is something about jellyfish that I find incredibly comforting. I could watch them for hours as they contract and expand and let the water and the current take them in their new direction. So light and simple they exist as free-swimmers, without a brain or nervous system. Sometimes I think it would be nice not to think, just feel your surroundings as you came in to them and allow your body to react based on rhythms and frequencies picked up naturally through the skin. Like a dance. Like music. Something to think about, I guess.



Sunday, September 19, 2010

Number Two.

I've started to dream in Swedish. Well, I've started to dream about Sweden. You know how your dreams are often linked to your everyday life so the people, places and events that surround you on a regular basis become like some sort of subconscious cushion to your dreamworld? Maybe that's just for me, but it took a while to stop dreaming about Montreal. And it was always the same dream; it's the day before I leave and I have nothing done. Nothing packed, in boxes or dealt with at all. I look around and start to freak out as I realize the amount of work I have to do and then a friend turns to me and says, "don't worry Jess, you'll get it all done". And then I suddenly wake up in a panic that was all too reminiscent of the final two weeks before my departure. I think, 'oh yeah, I already did that'. I guess they were more like night[stress]mares, now that I think about it.

But back to the point - I'm starting to have new dreams. Dreams about the streets and the tram, the sea and the graveyard behind my apartment. These are the things that I have been getting to know the most within my world here and they are beginning to stick. I feel as though I am slowly differentiating past from present. At least in my subconscious. Some people don't even remember their dreams, but I do. and I'm lucky. So I try to pay special attention to them even if they're not anything exciting. This is why I am writing about them now... they mean something important.

My dreams tell me that I'm adapting to life in Sweden. And with such adaptation come people, friends, and a familiarity of a place you once felt you could never know. You begin to recognize and understand certain things that were just a scramble a couple of weeks ago; words, signs, people... which way's north and which way's south. It begins to make sense and thus your life does as well. It is slow but it is happening. I can only be excited to see what form it continues to take on.


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I have found a particular affinity for the sea. I live only about 10 minutes from Salthomen, which is one of the harbours here in Gothenburg. From there you can catch ferries that will take you out to little islands called the archipelago's... captivating little islands. One of the larger ones, Styrsö,  has sheep that live on it who seem to be content with their usual routine of being photographed while eating grass and shrubs. It is a wonderful place and I am there about once a week, exploring different islands, always with camera in hand.


It being my first time across the Atlantic, I think there's a certain feeling of connection when at the shore. As far away as I may be, the ocean still connects us all, and when I'm there I feel close to home. In fact, closer to myself, which is as 'home' as I'll ever be.

Thank you ocean, thank you sea,
thank you dreams that come to me.