Chopin's Left Hand

That Monday morning, Gosia went to work, and I slept in.

Her flat mate Karolina would take me out later that day.  I didn't want to start early, as I was starting to feel a little sick in my throat.  I wanted to make sure it didn't turn into anything serious.

Karolina took me to see more of Warsaw, including the Gestapo prison memorial and a memorial to Jewish families effected by the war.  We also went to a well known park and "synagogue".  I say synagogue in quotation because, well we thought it was a synagogue.  The statue of one of the John Pauls out front threw us off for a second.  We peeked inside, saw a Hulk sized portrait of Jesus and decided it probably wasn't a Jewish place of worship.

For my last night in Warsaw, a group of us went out for drinks, including vodka of course.  Just as we decided the place was a little lame and we would move on, we were informed that it was half price Monday.

What a great concept.

Several rounds of shots, drinks, beers, later.  We each shelled out the equivalent if eight dollars.

Man I love Poland.

The next morning I said my sad goodbyes to Gosia before she left for work.  I wasn't due in Krakow for several hours, so I was finally going to go see the man that had sparked my interest in Poland in the first place.

Chopin.

Why aren't geniuses like him born any more? Young extremely talented musicians.  Actually that's probably not fair of me.  I'm sure these savants are still around, just no body especially cares, which is unfortunate.

Anyways.  The Chopin museum was awesome.  Tuesdays are free, which was convenient.  The odd thing was, they would only let seventy people in at one time.  I soon found out why.  When you bought a ticket, you got a key card.  You had to activate it when you entered the museum, and you used it throughout to interact with the displays. It would let you choose music to listen to, here historic accounts of Chopin as well as his inner circle of friends. 

I had to hurry my way through a bit to make sure I had time to catch my train, but from what I gathered, Chopin was rather obsessed with a certain George Sands.  George was a woman, although I don't think George was her given name.  She seemed to be a masculine/lesbian character. Appearing beautiful in portraits, but described as "different" in letters by others.  It seems they had a more platonic love, but I'm not quite sure what happened to her in the end...

I rushed back to Gosia's apartment afterwards, and Karolina saw that I got on the right tram to the train station.  I headed for Krakow where I would meet my next host, Ambrozy (not pronounced like it looks in English).

Na Zdrowie Warsaw
On to Krakow
Tegs

The Real Warszawa

Warsaw had lovely weather for two hours.

The rest was really cold and rainy.

I was actually prepared for cold weather when I left Ohio.

However.

When I got to Oslo, and we didn't even need our jackets, I took the opportunity to lighten my load and threw out my big warm sweaters.

Not one of my better decisions.

I coped with Warsaw by: wearing leggings under my jeans, long socks on top of that, one tank top, one t-shirt, two long sleeve shirts, and an extra warm scarf and gloves I borrowed from Gosia. 

I was like the little brother from A Christmas Story.

Back to those precious few hours of sun...

Gosia and I went out to breakfast at this fabulous little cafe whose staple was their delicious marmalade.  You got a basket of assorted breads, and then you got a few jars of different marmalades and then swapped flavors with your neighbors.  There was orange, raspberry, chocolate and white chocolate.  Absolutely amazing.

Gosia's friend Tomick (sp?) met us after breakfast.  He was studying medicine in Warsaw and was from the same town as Gosia.  As usual I was surprised at his impeccable English.

Sometimes I like to test the waters a bit, use more slang or more complicated words to see where my boundaries are when I'm speaking to a non native English speaker. 

Both Gosia and Tomick's English vocabularies were stellar, perhaps even superior to some American's vocabularies. 

The three of us walked through a very pretty park, and they pointed out the prime minister's residence as well as the president's.  Apparently they have both. As we talked a bit about their government, Tomick asked me what the capital of Poland was.

Krakow of course.

Nope. Warsaw.

How embarrassing.

Here we were making fun of American girls that didn't know Turkey and Hungary were countries, and there I go not even knowing where the hell I was exactly.

In my defense, Krakow WAS the capital of Poland a while back.  My other excuse was that I didn't have wifi on my train to Poland and so I couldn't catch up on my Polish history....

Whatever.

Anyways, just as we were making to leave the park, it started raining.  And blowing. We made it to the bus stop and got off at the old town.  By then the weather was a little calmer. 

Old town is kind of a misnomer.  Almost everything in Warsaw was destroyed during the second world war.  Despite the extensive wide spread damage to the city, the citizens returned to the city to build it back up.  The old town was actually rebuilt top look exactly as it had, based on paintings of it from before the war.

It was gorgeous.  People had warned me that Warsaw would be ugly concrete and feel like communism, but you didn't see any of that in the old town.  Lovely stone masonry on the buildings.  Some belonged to the university, some were churches, done were just historic buildings.  Benches that played Chopin (by far my favorite classical musician) dotted the district.

We climbed a tower to get a view of the city.  Afterwards we escaped to a cafe, as it had started raining again.

Tomick left us shortly after, and Gosia and I continued on to a photography exhibit.  It featured old pictures of Warsaw, most of which were post war, I believe.  Even without English captions, they were very interesting.

We watched the movie The Pianist, a true story based on a Polish Jew's experience of WWII.  It was actually filmed in Warsaw where the real events took.  Gosia pointed out the spots we walked that day, as well as the places she would show me the next day.  Apparently her current apartment was once part of one of the Polish ghettos.

After such a depressing movie, of course we went out to a club.

I can't recall the name of the place, but I will never forget the decorations/furniture.  It was as if some one had stolen a single item from every grandmother in a ten mile radius.  Random mismatched chairs and sofas. Tables nailed to the ceiling.  Miniature porcelain cows stared at you from cheap china cabinets.

It was fabulous.

What made it even better, was the currency exchange that worked out in my favor.  One dollar to approximately three Złote .  This was a much easier conversion to do than dollars to Kronors, especially after two beers.

The next day, Gosia and I went to the Uprising Museum.  Uprising refers to the even that occurred towards the end of the war when the remaining occupants of the ghetto (those that hadn't already been shipped off to concentration camps) revolted against their German captors.  Fighting also occurred outside the ghetto by Polish that were never imprisoned there.  Russia had promised aid in this uprising, but they remained on the opposite bank if the river until the worst of it had died down.  Now I'm skipping over quite a few details here, but the uprising led to the eventual liberation of Warsaw and also Poland.

There is apparently still debate on whether the uprising was a good idea or not.

Even when Germany admitted defeat, they still took the opportunity to destroy any building in Warsaw that they could.  Literally, pretty much all of Warsaw and it's buildings were destroyed by the time it was liberated.  Meanwhile, Prague, for example, didn't revolt at all and that is why all it's old beautiful buildings are still intact.

Maybe if Warsaw had remained complacent, more of it's buildings would have survived.  But then again, maybe not.  In my opinion, the pride gained from fighting is worth more than the architecture lost.

The museum dedicated to The Uprising, was huge.  Interesting, yet overwhelming at the same time. 

Every year in my elementary school, starting in about second grade, we studied WWII. And I mean every year.  We never actually explored the topic any further, we just drilled the lesson that "Hatred of others is bad".  We learned that Germans hated Jews, but not the events that led up to antisemitism feelings in Europe. We learned that the Japanese were on the German's side. Not why.  I'm pretty sure we never got to the bottom of whose side Russia was on (does anyone really know whose side Russia was on...besides Russia's side). 
My point is, WWII was my only form of world history until college.  Yet, based on what I learned, the war basically started in Hawaii and ended in Japan.  I couldn't even have told you Auschwitz was in Poland until a few years ago.  As if it were a big secret, obviously the American education system is lacking.  (I could go off on a tangent about how our history is so much shorter than everyone else's, and you'd think we could branch out more, but that's for another time...)

ANYWAYS

Gosia showed me around some more sights, including the university, which is very old. We also saw where the ghetto walls existed, as well as the bridge that linked the large ghetto to the small one.

She asked me once while we were walking, what differences did I see between Poland and America. I immediately mentioned my bubble.  I've briefly discussed my bubble on my blog before, but never did it become so important to me as it did in Poland.

You see, I could not walk with Gosia in a straight line.

It was a continuous zig zag.

We'd start out our dance in the middle of the sidewalk.  As we progressed, I would move further away from her in order to have a more comfortable conversation distance.  Following my lead, she would quickly close the gap I had just created.  Eventually, I'm pinned between her and either the wall or oncoming traffic.  I would find a reason to switch sides, and we'd start the dance all over again going the other way. 

I'm sure we could have gotten to our destinations much faster, had we not zig zagged the whole way.

This constant edging away happened during standstill conversations as well.  Often I'd pop out a leg or elbow with zero effect.

When I mentioned the bubble, I told her not to be offended, I just needed a bit more space.  And, if it felt like I was moving away from her, I probably was.  She mentioned that she had noticed it a bit, but I doubt she noticed the extent I went to "be able to breath".  I wish the vicinity thing didn't bother me because I don't want to be rude.  But it does, so I try to explain it when I can.

We stayed in that night.  Somewhat because Gosia had to be at work the next day, but also because I had been frozen all day and being sick on this trip was not an option.

Gosia's roommate was to take me out the next afternoon to see a bit more of the city, as it would be my last full day in Warsaw.

Dobranoc Warsaw
Tegs

Reunion in Warsaw

My original travel itinerary from Denmark to Poland included a train to Malmo, Sweden then a flight to Gdansk, Poland then train the rest of the way to Poland.

However.

Flights are not included in the cost of my Eurail pass. So instead, I opted to take a thirteen hour train ride.  This consisted of a train to the southern edge of Denmark, a ferry to Germany, back on the train into Hamburg, another train to Berlin, and finally a six hour straight shot to Warsaw.

It was a delightful day.

Okay so it really wasn't that bad.  I mostly slept, read, and slept some more.  There was no wireless internet on any part of this journey, and my iPod was dead.

Was there a screaming child in my car for part of the journey? Naturally.

The only real pain in the ass was when folks would ask to take the seat beside me.  Not that I'm antisocial.  I just don't enjoy shot putting my twenty pound (ten kilo) backpack into the luggage rack above.  Getting out down later is hazardous to my health, as well as anyone else in a six foot (two meter) radius.

This, however, is only a problem when I am actually sitting in a seat.

When you're sitting on the floor from Hamburg to Berlin because you can't read or speak German, THEN it is not an issue.

I was one of the first people on the train.  Snagged a great seat.  Then a German guy kicked me out saying he had reserved it.  I read the little light up screen above the seat.  Read is a lose term, I actually memorized the word so that I didn't sit in another reserved seat.

That word was above every freaking seat. 

I squeezed my way through six train cars, all the way my backpack is spilling coffees and knocking people's glasses of their faces as I try to pass folks going the opposite direction as me.

I gave up and sat on the floor midway between the diner car and the toilet. Still no iPod, I do crosswords for the majority of the over two hour journey.

With about a half an hour to go before I switch trains in Berlin, someone informs me that the announcement they made in German an hour ago had said that there were free seats in the last two train cars.

At this point, I just didn't care.

I was bitter about the whole situation and rather enjoyed watching the people with seats try to navigate around my campground every time they either needed a coffee, out had to piss because they had already drank said coffee.

Sorry I'm not sorry.

The train to Warsaw from Berlin was substantially more pleasant.

I had a reserved seat ticket, and therefore was guaranteed a spot in a cabin.  My cabin had two separate younger Polish travelers that spoke English and an elderly Polish couple that tried their best to speak English.

Everyone was extremely polite and courteous, a theme I continued to experience throughout all of my travels in Poland.

When my fellow travelers discovered that I only spoke English, all chatting within the entire group was carried out in English.  Even the elderly couple, whom it was sometimes painful to watch them search for the correct English word so they could complete their thoughts.  When the younger train goers left (and so ceased the helpful translations), the conversation pretty much died.  It was a six hour train after all... The gentleman across from me continued to translate all train announcements (I had related my German train story to them).

Now, Warsaw was to be the first place I would stay with someone I actually knew already and hadn't meet on couchsurfing.  I was meeting a fellow Erasmus student (exchange student), whom I had met in Maastricht and studied psychology with.

Gosia was from Poland and had actually finished an entire year abroad in Maastricht, while I had only done the first half.

As the train slowed down in Warsaw I saw Gosia waiting on the platform, and I audibly gasped.

I am not going to pretend that Gosia and I were ever BFF's during our time in Maastricht together.  But we were both part of a larger group of exchange student friends that I would like to think were all fairly close to each other, given that we only knew each other for four months.  I think the both of us also shared a love for our time in Maastricht, and also for the Dutch and their culture.  Gosia had always been refreshing to talk to and hang out with.  She was always interested in learning about other countries' cultures as well as sharing her own.  Not to mention she's always really fun to hang out with as well. 

Long story short, I was really freaking excited to see her.

When I said goodbye to Maastricht before, I honestly hadn't expected to see anyone from there ever again.

I got of the train and I couldn't find her.

Had I imagined I'd seen her?  Aha! Nope, she was real. I think we scared a few people with our girly shrieks when we hugged.

It was sooo great to finally see a familiar face.

We went back to her flat and basically just filled each other in on the two and a half years that had passed since we'd seen each other.  She had stayed in contact with some of our other Erasmus friends (some of whom had already visited her in Warsaw) and it was great to hear how they were doing as well.

Finally, we actively decided we should stop talking and go to sleep.  We could continue the next day when she would take me out and show me Warsaw...

Dobranoc Poland
Tegs

Amsterdam's Second Cousin

Copenhagen really reminded me of Amsterdam and the Netherlands.

Not only were there more bikes (and bike infrastructure) than I had seen in this trip to far, but there were also canals throughout parts of the city.  Sitting at one of the cafes on the canal, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Copenhagen and Amsterdam (besides the feature beer is Carlsberg instead of Heineken).

My morning started way earlier than one's morning ever should.  8am (restaurant hours have me spoiled).  Majbrit had already left, and Bryan headed to work shortly after I got up.  After showering and squeegee-ing the floor, I used Bryan's computer to take care of some couchsurfing hosts.  For some reason the internet only worked for a few minutes.  Then it just stopped.  I didn't want to disconnect and reconnect because I didn't know the password.  Somehow in my mad hunt to make the internet work, I turned on the music that Bryan had been playing while he made dinner the night previous (it was a band called Metric, and I admit I quite liked them)

I couldn't figure out how to shut the music off though.

And it wasn't just playing on the computer speakers, his computer was linked to the entertainment system, so it was playing in the entire common room.  After at least a half an hour of hunting around on his computer (I've never owned a Mac, nor am I ever likely to), I gave up and unplugged the speakers.

I'd explain it to them later...

I took the metro (without a ticket) into the central station, and just started walking.  I came across the Denmark National History museum.  Due to spending almost two hours in the Prehistoric and Neolithic period, I had to rush my way through the Renaissance and skipped modern history all together. 

Upon Bryan's suggesting, I also stopped by a department store called Illum. Nothing was particularly interesting until you got to the home furnishing floor.  There were so many neat little gadgets and ingenious furniture ideas.  The Danish are famous for their talents in design, and you could definitely see why.  I'm sure you could find some of their products online.  It is all soo cool, I suggest you check it out.

Afterwards I went to the "round tower".  It was exactly what I expected from the name.  The story goes that the king had the tower built, and then decided he didn't feel like walking up all those steps.  So they created a spiral ramp so he could take his carriage to the top.  It was a very dizzying and tiring climb, so I can see the appeal of a horse dragging me up there instead. 

I walked around the Rosenburg Palace and the Palace Gardens.  It was a very beautiful park, and those twisted finger trees were everywhere too.  I thought this would be a good time to whip out my peanut butter sandwhich I had made two days ago.  After half the sandwich, I looked down and saw that my bread was looking just a little on the fuzzy side.  Upon a more thorough inspection, I discovered that the sandwich was QUITE moldy.

Eh whatevs.

It was like I had magically made my peanut butter sandwich into a cheese sandwich...

I made it to the University Botanical Garden just as they were closing.  At 3pm I might add... The lady let me go in as long as I promised to walk straight out the door she indicated she would be locking last.  It was really hot and humid in there.  But really really cool.  I'd never been in a greenhouse that big.  My camera lense didn't even get a chance to defog before they kicked me out.  Kinda made for cool pictures though...

Of course there were several churches on my list of things to see. Majbrit had also suggested an area near one of the canals. 

It looked exactly like Amsterdam.  Apparently this was kind of the idea, as one of the previous kings of Denmark had really like the Amsterdam city layout and had parts of Copenhagen made more Dutch-like.  I always try to test the local cuisine, so I sat down at a cafe to have a Carlsberg.  I think that pint was enough to last me a life time.  It wasn't terrible beer.  It just wasn't good either.  Like if Bud Light had an older brother.  Slightly more mature, but still bad genes.

After forcing down the rest of Carl, I met up with Bryan and we went to Christiania.

Christiania is a sub-culture within Copenhagen.  Really its kind of a city within a city.  Not like the Vatican though. It started as a social experiment in the 70's and it turned into a seperate entity.  The town was walled off from the rest of Copehagen, and when you left, the sign said "You are now entering the EU".  Really in all legalities, it was part of Copenhagen AND the EU.  However the people there didn't pay taxes, and here's the kicker.

They sold weed and hash openly.

About 50 yards into Christiania, there was a sign giving the rules of the "Green Light District".  The rules included no pictures, as hashish and weed are actually illegal in Denmark.  But the police stay out for some reason.  The one thing that didn't make sense about the people of Christiania not paying tax, was that they still used public services like ambulances and police help when needed.  Apparently they have their own school, businesses, "government", etc though.

The place looked kind of how you would expect it to look.  Kind of like a gypsy camp was attacked by spray paint toting hippies.  Grafitti everywhere, some cool, some not so cool.  Small piles of junk here and there.  Actual bars and cafes, occasional store or playground.  I was really curious how the schoos are run, and what they learn in there.  We didn't stay very long, Bryan was in a suit and carrying a briefcase.  Kinda made us stick out a little...

We met up with Majbrit in a pub, chatted over some appetizers and headed home rather late to make dinner.  Or rather Bryan was making dinner.  And it was fabulous.

It was basically cooked goose with bacon mashed potatoes on top, sprinkled with ground walnuts. It was really, really good.  I was totally planning on eating the rest of mine for breakfast the next day.

Then Bryan whipped out his father's home made "Mirebelle" liquor.  Apparentlly a mirebelle is a sort of plum I am not familiar with.  So we took a shot.  Terrible burning sensation followed by a pleasant hint of plum.  The hint of plum wasn't enticing enough to get me to do another shot though. 

I said my goodbyes to Majbrit before going to bed, as she would be at work by the time I got up.  I dislodged Batman from my bed, and passed out.  Tomorrow would come in the form of a 13 hour train ride to Warsaw.

Farvel Denmark
Tegs

Where Nothing is Pronounced Quite as It Seems...

Once in Copenhagen central station, I lurked outside a McDonalds to steal their wifi, and I emailed Bryan to ask about the station dilemma.

I decided to take a lap around the station to see if he was waiting on me while I waited for an email reply.  Just as I was rounding out the last turn, I happen to spot a guy that kinda looked like they guy in the picture that I was looking for (follow me?).  So I took a chance and said "Bryan?" as he was passing.  He turned.

Bingo.

He had just left his Danish language class (as Bryan is actually French), and luckily he HAD meant central station.  It was a short metro ride and not to long of a walk to his apartment where he and his girlfriend Majbrit, who is Danish, live together with their cat Batman.

I'm going to take a small pause here.  Because I mentioned to a friend in America that I was in Copenhagen, and he said "What's a Copenhagen?" I'm going to clear up a few things for anyone that might not be in the know.

Denmark is in Scandinavia. It is north of Germany, south of Norway, and southwest of Sweden (if this does not help, I want you to stop reading, take a ten minute break, watch some Jersey Shore, ice your forehead, and continue only when you've fully recovered).  When someone is from Denmark, they are a Dane, or they are Danish.  Danish is also the name of the language they speak, which is similar to Norwegian and Swedish.  The Danes are part of the EU, but use Danish Kronor instead of Euros.  (Why Norway and Sweden need their own Kronors and they all three can't share a common Kronor, I'll never know)

This is a lot of information. I know.

Moving on.

Bryan and Majbrit's apartment was adorable.  It could have been featured in a Crate & Barrel advertisement.  It was on the top floor if its building and so it had the occasional slanted wall/windows.  Cute plants everywhere etc.  I sat and chatted with Bryan while he cooked dinner.  I had not yet met Majbrit, as she was still at work.  I did, however, meet the third roommate.

Batman.

I asked Bryan if he went by Bruce Wayne during the day. 

Crickets.

Okay maybe it wasn't that funny.

Batman was awesome though.  Kind of psychotic, but in a hilarious way. Chasing things that aren't there.  Parkouring off of the sofa.  Pulling clothes out of my backpack.  Adorable. 

Majbrit came home after we had eaten, and the three of us just sat and talked for awhile.  I had expected Majbrit's English to be good, like most of the Scandinavians I had talked to.  But honestly I was surprised by Bryan's superb English.  France is not known for its bilingual citizens. 

Turns out the two of them had met in Saudi Arabia of all places.  And while Majbrit spoke some French, and Bryan was learning Danish, the two of them spoke in English to each other.  This brings up a funny point.  When neither of them knows what to call something in English, instead of looking it up, they kind of make up a word for it.

For instance, when Bryan was explaining that since the walk-in shower didn't have a door, you could use the (I believe he said rubber thing) to clean up the water.  So I said, "Oh the squeegee?" Aha, now it had a name.  I must admit, squeegee is a pretty awesome word (now that I think about it, that might just be what my family calls it...)

Later they Majbrit asked me what we called the thing she was holding.  I said seive or colander, depending on the usage.

You can see how staying with this couple would be a lot of fun.

We called it a night after it started getting late.  They got out the airmattress, and I gave my phone number to both of them, as they would be working most of the next day.  I already had many destinations picked out for my full day in Copenhagen, as well as a general route that would enable me to see most of them, since my stay was to be cut short.

Godnat Copenhagen
Tegs

Gang Slanging

In the morning, my host Bryan in Copenhagen still hadn't messaged me back yet.

Bit of a panic here.

I joined the "Emergency Couch in Copenhagen" group on the couchsurfing website.  Basically, if you live in a city, usually that city has an emergency couch group where surfers can post when something goes wrong with their original plans.  It works because when you post in a group, everyone in the group receives and email instead of having to check online.  I received 5 replies from hosts that were willing to take me at the last minute, this is within about 20 minutes.

The new host I chose said he could only host me Wednesday and Thursday night, but not Friday like I had asked for.

Thank goodness he couldn't host me Friday night, and here's why...

I had planned to take a really long train from Copenhagen to Warsaw (via Hamburg and Berlin) on Saturday.  Because this host couldn't have me stay Friday, I double checked my train guide to see if I could go to Warsaw early.

Turns out I could go to Warsaw on Friday, but NOT Saturday.

I had read the schedule wrong and I would have been stranded in Berlin if I hadn't checked.

THEN Bryan from Copenhagen did message me back, saying come on over etc.

So really, Bryan not responding right away kind of saved my life. (Or saved my spine rather, train benches are even worse than airport benches)

Fortunately I could leave for Copenhagen as planned. But unfortunately I had to cut my stay short an entire day.  Then again, fortunately that gave me a whole nother day in Warsaw with my friend Gosia, whom I will be mentioning again later...

Awesome. Game onnn!

Mia had already left to get her hair cut with Luis that morning, so I text her and filled her in.  I then completely gutted my backpack and repacked it.  I had done this previously in Oslo as well. 

But when I repacked it, something had gone terribly wrong. 

I thought I would utilize the outer pockets since I wasn't going to be flying anymore.  When I put stuff in the outside pockets, it actually decreased the space of the pack's main chamber.  So when I repacked everything, even though I tried to keep the weight in the middle of my back like you're supposed to (thanks so much for that tip Alex) my pack ended up being taller.   Which I suppose wouldn't be such a big deal if you were Uma Thurman, but I am sadly about a foot shorter.

I was in such pain between Oslo and Gothenburg, and seriously in danger of falling over backwards.

I kept picturing my in the middle of the train station, belly up, rocking back and forth, flailing like a stranded turtle.

My pack is only about 20lbs (10kg) or so.  A totally safe amount of weight when distributed correctly.  Upon my repacking it in Gothenburg, it was ten times easier to handle.

I could have jazzercised with that thing on.

I met Mia at the central station, and we checked my backpack into a locker, since I didn't have to leave until after 3pm.  Then we were off to see all the things we couldn't fit in the day before. 

Item #1: The Viking Ship

Turns out it wasn't actually a Viking ship...

It was a ship named "The Viking"...

It was from the 1920's, NOT 14th century.

Whatever.

Item #2: The World Culture Museum

There really should be a certain set of qualifications and institution must fulfill before they can call themselves a museum (ahem, Leprechaun Museum...).  I'm not saying this place wasn't pretty cool. It definitely was.  But museum isn't a word I'd use to describe it. 

It had basically three exhibitions.  First was the Whipala.  The entire exhibit was a video, and an old Whipala that was about the size of a Band-aid.  The second was sort of a psychological exhibit that tried to portray emotions physically.  So for example, the room for contemplation was an enormous brain you could walk inside and hundreds of lights twinkled in a network similar to the way neurons work.  The room for falling in love was a large wooden "target" on the floor, with each successive ring spinning the opposite way of the next.  You could climb on it and get dizzy (slight urge to vomit?).

Sounds about right.

The last exhibit was all about traveling.  How appropriate.  It went into why people travel, where people travel, how people travel.  Not just tourists, but refugees, immigrants, gypsies, etc.  There was even a small section dedicated to couchsurfing!

By the time we had finished with the museum, it was time to head back to the train station, as I had to book my ticket from Berlin to Warsaw (for some reason Poland is not included in the Eurail pass?)

I don't think I've ever actually discussed the gift I give each host when I leave...

I have a deck of cards from Francesca's called Slang Cards.  They're larger than playing cards by quite a lot actually.  On the one side they have an American slang word, on the other they have the "dictionary definition" of it as we'll as a picture and the word used in a sentence.

For instance.  

Hot Mess

hot mess or hawt mess \'hät-,mes, 'hot-\ n. 1: an attractive individual or thing marred by a disheveled or down-at-the-heels appearance -syn.  Ham (hot-ass-mess) -see also CAKE FACE, BUSTED, FIERCE 2: a state of disorder that is somehow pitiful or embarrassing -syn TRAIN WRECK -see also RATCHET, FUGLY, JANKY, TO'UP

You get the idea.

They're all pretty hilarious, and I like that they are strictly American slang words. 

Mia got the card "Badonkadonk" because I did not know of anyone that would appreciate being able to use that word as much as Mia would.

So I said goodbye to my Columbo-Swedish sister, and boarded the four hour train to Copenhagen.

When I got on the train, after I realized that it didn't have wireless, I recalled that Bryan had mentioned that he lived near the "Valby station". I had told him exactly when I was arriving, and he was to meet me at the station. But we never really definitively said central station or otherwise.  I had just sort of assumed central station...

Crap.  You think I would have learned by now...

I thought, what the hell, I'll just get off at central station and email him from there.

Vi ses Gothenburg
Tegs

Mama Mia!

I will forever think of my host Mia as Mama Mia.

She is so kind and warm hearted, and wants to do as much as she can to make you comfortable. When she and Luis came back in the morning, she offered to do my laundry while I got ready. Then, we had a wonderful breakfast with Luis in the apartment. Luis was very nice as well, but had just started learning English. Another opportunity to practice my lack of Spanish...

They were curious to know what sort of differences I noticed in Sweden compared to America. I mentioned the idea of the personal bubble. In the U.S., your personal bubble is quite large. Bubbles have different sizes in any culture depending on how familiar you are with the other person. The friend bubble in the U.S. is the size of the stranger bubble in Europe. I've found this bubble is even smaller in the Romantic countries. It took me a long time to get used to how close people would stand next to me in the supermarket line. Often I would put my hand on my hip and thrust my elbow out behind me, just so I could breathe. Other than that, there was a certain lack of "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" that I'm used to hearing in Ohio that I have almost never heard abroad.

The only other thing I could think of, was the accuracy at which a European male could be singled out in a group of Americans. It mostly has to do with scarves, pointy shoes, and floppy hair.

While I was getting ready to go, Mia had not only folded my bedding, she had also folded my laundry. I couldn't possibly have said thank you enough. I showed her the destinations I had picked out on my travel application and off we went.

It was a GORGEOUS day in Gothenburg. She said it was going to be 17 degrees. Huh? We wouldn't need our coats. Ah, okay, that I can understand. The sun shined all day as we walked to a museum and several churches. We also walked up many many steps to the top of a hill that overlooked Gothenburg. Mia said these steps would give us those "Hollywood asses" that women often worked for.She was hillarious and really fun to be around.

We wandered into a shop where everything was either made from olives, or could be mixed with olive oil to create dressings,dips, etc. There was a buffet of bread chunks and dips, and we pretty much made into our lunch.

Most of the day we spent walking around the old district of the city. I was captivated by the trees, never mind the buildings. They had club like appendages and joints in the branches that gave them the appearance of mangled hands. Like a medusa of of fingers sprouting out of a single trunk. I know I have seen giant thousand dollar sculptures that looked like these trees, and they are all lawn flamingos in comparison.

Before we left the city center, we got sushi to take home. The night was mostly uneventful.  I had a mini freak out when my Copenhagen host hadn't messaged me back yet confirming our meeting.  Mia said not to worry, and that I could stay with her one more night if I needed time to get another host in Copenhagen.  I said I would check again in the morning, and then we could decide which course of action to take.

Kinda freaking out in Gothenburg
Tegs