Copenhagen finally!

I woke as the plane started its descent into Copenhagen, I thought I had just had a bad dream but as I woke realized that it had in fact been real…..very real.   Still dressed in the clothes that I arrived into Bangkok with, now soiled and incredibly dirty, with me unshaven and smelling to high heaven!   I thought to myself it couldn’t get any worse than that and somehow I had survived to tell the story.

It was 3:00 am when I finally deplaned, and waited expectantly for my backpack to come down the carousel I realize that I didn’t really have any warm clothes as my plan had been to buy some during my travels before I reached Europe, particularly since I had made the jump from Asia to Europe much faster than I had expected.  So with backpack in hand I now needed money, but when I got to the money exchange it was closed and opening at 7:00 am….hhhmm “it never rains but it pours” I thought to myself.   Okay, no worries I’ll just stay in the terminal until the money exchange opens and everything will be fine.   

I had just settled myself into an airport seat when I noticed two policemen sauntering along the hallway and heading my way.  Ignoring them but distinctly feeling a little on edge as they approached.  I guess they thought I was a street person and who could blame them given my appearance.   They made it pretty clear that I couldn’t wait inside the terminal, even after I tried to explain my predicament it was to no avail, I had to move on.

Copenhagen International Airport

Okay – fine!   But as I exited the terminal the cold air struck me like a sledgehammer – shit, it was cold with the temperature now hovering around 0C and me with no warm clothes and about 3 hours to kill….just another part of the adventure (yeah, right!).   I quickly emptied my backpack on the ground and put every t-shirt I had in my possession on, shorts over shorts trying to cover as much exposed skin as possible, socks on my hands pulled up my arms – clearly a chic and fashionable look was long gone but seriously I was getting more crazy and eccentric looking by the moment (be nice☺)

After almost three cold and uncomfortable hours of me walking back and forth and hugging what was left of my backpack the opportunity to get a little warmer and some cash finally beckoned.   Remaining dressed in my fashionable attire “sans” the socks for gloves I went to the money exchange and after a short wait was able to cash a traveler’s cheque.    Finally things were starting to look up….

Not so fast, I still had to locate the youth hostel, remember these were the days before the internet, iPhones or the mainstream use of computers so it was an old fashioned exercise to try and locate it.  After asking a number of people at the airport I was able to determine that if I was able to get downtown there was a tourist information office located in the main city square where I could get directions.

So it was with this objective that I lined up for the airport commuter bus headed for downtown.  Have you ever been on a bus where there is a street person on the bus or train and no one can stand being too close them because of their obvious issues with cleanliness and quite pungent and overpowering aroma?  Yeah, well you’re looking at me.   I must admit as I got on the bus and found a seat; although the bus was absolutely packed no one was willing to sit next to me.  In fact I’d go so far as to say that people actually got off the bus and waited for the next one rather than be on my bus…. I was in fine form   If I didn’t have an inferiority complex by now then I was never going to have one!       

After an uncomfortable but rather spacious 25 minute ride the bus finally pulled into the central square, locating the tourist office reasonably quickly they provided me with the information required to find the youth hostel albeit with a few strange looks.   Time to relax – just go to the rail station and get on a train that'll take me to Grøndal station and from there I should see signs for the youth hostel.   Okay, how hard can that be I thought to myself?  Although still relatively cold I was now determined to find the hostel, shower and get cleaned up then go buy some warm clothes.  I just had to have a shower as by now I could hardly stand my own smell; gross and disgusting and that was being nice!  

After standing on the platform for some time and watching train after train come and go I was approached by an elderly gentleman but instead of talking to me directly he prodded me with his walking stick from what he thought was a relatively “safe” distance and asked me where I was going (yes, in my exhausted condition I was having difficulty fully comprehending and understanding the Danish train schedules and maps and how they operated).   I told him I needed to find the Grøndal station so that I could get to the youth hostel located nearby.   He laughed when I told him, and smiling said that all of these trains take you through that train station.   I wasn’t sure whether to smile or lose it particularly given my fragile mental state, he could sense that I was “on the edge” and so with smile he came closer and physically took me by the elbow as the next train approached and guided me onto the train.   

Copenhagen's historic waterfront

Who was helping whom here; an elderly man with a walking stick helping a young "street person" onto a train, what a strange site?   For the next 10 minutes or so he asked me of my travels and I tried as best I could to be conversational but how could you tell my story?  My journey to here was so unbelievable...  As the train approached Grøndal station, not only did he get off the train with me but also he walked me out onto the street and pointed to the sign for the youth hostel.  This was an unexpected gesture of kindness as I’m sure he had places to go and people to see, but he took the time to help me out and to some small degree began to restore my faith in human kindness.  

As I walked toward the hostel in the crisp morning air I could almost feel the sensation of hot water on my skin, soap on my body and shampoo in my hair….   However I wasn't quite prepared for what happened next, when I got to the front door of the hostel it was locked.  To my astonishment and clear frustration the sign on the door said that the hostel was now closed but would re-open at 3:00 pm.   No amount of knocking, rattling of the door handle or calling out had any effect.    

Oh come on!    

This was just another day on the road as I was to learn....