A few things around CPH

International Borders

I took the train this afternoon from Copenhagen (CPH) to Malmö, Sweden to visit my friend, Newsha.

I rode the train in a slight Sunday afternoon trance, trying to read my book while the light flickered between daylight and darkness, the train between earth and surface.

Once I arrived in Malmö I had some time to putter about the station before Newsha would meet me. It was about this time that I became aware of a need to use the bathroom.

I wandered until I found the immaculate toilet zone where there was an entry charge of 20 SKK. I dug around in my wallet for several minutes trying to count out my shackles to add up to 20. All this was going on as the toilet zone cashier looked on.

I finally produced a quantity of coins summing to 20, and handed them over to the cashier. He then told me they did not accept Danish coins.

I had forgotten I was in a different country.

But for the love of god, why did he wait through the agony of several minutes of me fumbling through my Danish coins to tell me they did not, indeed, accept Danish coins? Probably for his own entertainment.

I can’t blame him.

I paid the equivalent of two dollars and seventy-five cents Canadian and walked to the toilet. I vowed to spend a good deal of time in there, just for spite.

Having to pay to use the toilet in Europe is rampant and quite frustrating. However, as Newsha mentioned when I told her the story, at least you didn’t find homeless people sleeping in them or shit strewn on the walls.

She’s got a point there.

Laundry Day

Not since Delft have I taken my soiled clothing to a proper laundromat. Fear not, I HAVE washed my clothing since then – but not in the traditional ‘laundering’ method. Aka – I have washed stuff in the sink and / or shower.

I woke up in the morning with a sense of purpose and a can-do attitude. I was off to find the nearest coin laundry in CPH.

Once I arrived, I discovered that the machine only accepted cash so I had to set off once again to find an ATM. That in itself was a challenge. Eventually, I did find a sketchy little wall-ATM inside a mall and waited for the elderly Danish couple to finish their ATM related business. I don’t know what they were up to there, but they took a rather long time. I did some deep breathing and reminded myself I was in no rush.

I withdrew some cash and then went to the nearby grocery store to buy what I hoped was laundry detergent, thereby also breaking my bills for some change.

Back to the laundromat, I was face-to-face with a vending machine sized metal box mounted to the wall with an assortment of coloured buttons, labels with numbers on them, and a handwritten paper sign taped to the machine.

I had no idea what to do at all.

I saw there was one older couple there and I approached them to ask if they could help. They turned out to be tremendously helpful. They were from Long Island, New York, and had the accents to support it. They were so helpful that they walked me through every step of the process, right down to watching me insert my items into the machine.

The wife would start to explain something and then the husband would interject, and then they would both be talking, and then the wife would say, okay, he is just going to talk, but she also remained talking. All the while I was trying to be very polite and thankful while smiling and laughing to myself about their adorable bickering in strong Long Island accents. Then, I would ask a new question and the process would start all over again. It made for a very entertaining trip to do laundry.

Once Long Island couple had finished their laundry and were about to depart, another old American couple came in and asked for their help using the machines.

Of course, Long Island couple was more than happy to help and the whole process of walking through the instructions began again.

It was hilarious.

The second American couple had come all the way from Sweden to do their wash because apparently there were no laundromats in Malmö. I find this somewhat hard to believe, but surely they wouldn’t have taken the train to a different country to do their laundry if they didn’t have to.

Once my wash and dry were done, I packed my clean clothes in my backpack and was about to step out into the street, when I looked up and saw a pristine, clear sign with instructions on how to operate the laundry machines… in English.

Pride Parade

Yesterday was the final day of Pride Week in CPH and the city was absolute madness. I emerged from the laundromat and walked right into the eye of the storm – the Pride Parade!

The event and crowd were decorated fabulously, music was blasting, people were dancing and public drinking abound. The energy was infectious and it was an awesome event to witness. You couldn’t help but sing along with a smile plastered to your face.