Odense y su catálogo de peripecias

Recién vuelto de Odense, no puedo decir otro fin de semana en Odense. No es otro. Es uno nuevo. Siempre algo distinto cada vez que voy. No existe una rutina porque encuentro miles de cosas que hacer y, gracias a los cielos, no es solo turismo. Cuando estás en una ciudad los primeros días son turismo, los siguientes cosas más habituales, a continuación fiesta y finalmente la vida diaria. Así es como uno vive los lugares que visita. Haciendo de la rutina de otros algo nuevo.

No, todavía no he perdido la cabeza y ni padezco algún tipo de demencia. Odense es más que Andersen y su hermoso teatrillo al lado de la casa. He estado investigando con células y proteinas en un laboratorio, he estado a la hora de cierre de Tommy Hilfiger, he ayudado en una pizzería.

He descubierto una parte de Dinamarca que no conocía. Con mi altiva mirada observaba la fiesta danesa. Vale, yo vengo de Madrid y soy una generación consecuencia de valores desarrollados tras La Movida y la sensación es diferente cuando eres un estudiante de intercambio en tu burbuja internacional. Así todo es más light. Es bajo en calorías de fiesta. Se necesita un nativo al que no le importe que seas estudiante. Se necesitan amigos daneses que te muestren la verdad. Y lo cierto es que puedes quedarte hasta las 7 am celebrando un sábado. Pensaba que era algo de la calle Huertas de Madrid, de Malasaña o de Tribunal. Sin embargo, el tono de la fiesta todavía sigue siendo un poco distinto.

Ahora, atención al dato, lo que más me sorprende es algo tan normal y corriente, incluso insulso para un español, como es la bolera. Me dijeron "vamos a la bolera a las 11". Pensé que era un poco tarde para un plan así. También pensé que la bolera la dejé atrás cuando yo superé la preadolescencia. Pero no, es un lugar bastante variopinto. Música a todo volumen, luces de discoteca, copas y un ambiente festivo. Nada que ver con lo que estoy acostumbrado a ver. Yo sólo recuerdo a las entrenadas señoras mayores de mi barrio derribar bolos con movimientos aprendidos durantes años de experiencia, a niños que empiezan a salir y los cumpleaños celebrados en la bolera con perritos calientes y hamburguesas. Curiosa forma la de Dinamarca de reconvertir el concepto ocio sano en algo aún más lúdico.

Y es que los daneses, hacen del deporte y del ocio indoor algo más festivo y loco.

Nobody said it'd be easy - II

13:15. That was the expected hour for the plane to take off.

21:30. That’s the hour when I eventually got aboard on the plane.

23:27. When I’m writing these lines.

Flight Malaga - Madrid - Copenhagen. Fifth capture after other passengers appeared on the previous ones 

I’ve just had my last meal of the day. In fact I don’t know if it was dinner or, as the Danes say, natsmad. I must recognize the fact that SAS (Scandinavian Airlines is not cool enough) provided us with food and drinks all the time. Not only the whole lunch, but also during the afternoon: Snacks (e.g. chicken sandwich) and drinks. SAS is not cheap at all, neither bighearted for sure.

Nevertheless two meals it’s not enough to kill that much time. I think I checked all the stores at least once, some twice and others even three times. My bag is full of testers for perfumes and in an irrational impulse I deceive myself. My last acquisition is Luna Rosa by Prada. A 50ml bottle of pure good smell for sportsmen and, why not, for me.

Ok, I’m cheating myself. I forgot that my last acquisition is a magazine I hadn’t bought before I thought it was too frivolous and lacked of any interest apart from the give-hopes-to-fatty-people field. It’s “Men’s Health’. Worldwide known and for my surprise the Spanish edition is good enough. Something uncommon in print media.

Spanish edition of the magazine Men's Health. It's quite good.

And it’s because not only deal with fitness and diet as the very only topics –there are an uncountable number of them-, and neither because it includes style, personal care and leisure. It’s due to the fresh and unserious, journalistic way of writing. I’ve found more journalistic key skills its pages than in the Danish tabloid BT that I read this noon while I was wondering why the plane wasn’t taking off.

Now, relocated in a flight from Malaga to Copenhagen with stop in Madrid and surrounded by Danes, Swedes, Spaniards and some expatriates, I’m finishing my last lines. But I bear in mind that we’re expected to arrive at one o’clock. I didn’t know that Denmark was still awake at that time. Maybe I knew that, but I forgot it because of the last three weeks in Madrid. “La ciudad más divertida del mundo”.

Danes make fun and laugh at the airport assistant because they don’t know how to pronounce their efternavner in a proper way, without keeping in mind that they have such a difficult language. Swedes just speak their funny language and ask all the time how will arrive to Stockholm if they have already lost the connection. Spaniards… Well, they behave as always. We recognize each other. It’s easy for us. And the expatriates carry with noisy children. I’m so desolated. TGTS – Thanks God They are Sleeping.

PS. I must confess that some minutes ago I was a little sneaky. The flight attendants handed out some sandwiches. Since I read they have a vegetarian menu, I decided to test SAS service. I received a lomo sandwich (is there any real English word for that back meat?). I don’t like it at all and, concerned about my shape –fatty food– and conscious of my hate to cheese, I asked the flight attendant for a vegan sandwich, which means non-coming from an animal food. So, I would avoid lomo and cheese at once and I could eat something healthier. She just answered “let me check it”. Three minutes later, she’s back with a vegetarian, including cheese, sandwich. Afterwards not even the sandwich could’ve been under my control today.

Nobody said it'd be easy - I

It’s been a long time since I wrote the last post.  At first I wanted to write about why my expectations weren’t completed. And why my initial points of view changed after the first days in Madrid. Anyway my perception blew up last night. Being an expatriate is not easy. You make a change in your life buy your acquaintances don’t. Your life-rhythm is still in evolution if not it reached the top of a different level but your whole surround goes on with their same lives. However you expect something else, something different and you feel disappointed if you aren’t mature enough.

15:08. Now I’m supposed to be on a plane, flying to Copenhagen and full of happiness to be back in Roskilde. Airports, aircraft and all the air things are not as efficient as we would like them to be, so because of that I’m finishing my lunch in a trendy but stinky cafeteria in the Terminal 2. Beef, fries, salad and a rotten apple. That’s my lunch. No, it’s not a good beginning for my way back.

18:16 But the main question is what to do? Just go around the duty free stores. They aren’t as duty free as they presume to be. I can find better bargains outside. The poor Spaniard is back. Perfumes, clothes, chocolates. Nothing interesting at all. If only they would sell a sharp knife to use when you feel self-aggressive whilst waiting for your delayed flight.  That’s because of a terrible headache. A group of fourteen Portuguese people clapping, yelling and noising but also making a drinking beer competition. And don’t mention the children in the short period on the plane. Crying, crying, crying. I didn’t want to fly with damn kids.

Then, just wait. Because if my plane even takes off soon and I get Copenhagen, I will still have a long train-journey from Kastrup Airport to Trekoner, and carry with my suitcase up-hill to Korallen. Danish protestant God why do you hate me so much?