Widukinds Diary Entry #28: the Adventures of Widukind Part 1
No homoOur hero hath returnedeth from his journey. Many of you may not even know of what journey I speak; simmer, humble reader, and let my silken words woven of venture, woe, and weather steer your hearts.
My first stop was Copenhagen, Denmark. A charming old place, Copenhagen is clean as a whistle. Each Dane seemingly owns like 8 bikes. It's kind of cool, but it's also kind of annoying when you're walking around and unwittingly amble in to the bike lane and hear some poor Danish person screech to a halt before slamming in to you on their bicycle. I find it incredibly entertaining simply because bike/pedestrian clashes have to be one of the more awkward things you could witness. I didn't actually see one, but try and picture it in your head and tell me that's not funny. As one would expect everything works to a tee there; even if the metro from the airport is late, they are kind enough to inform you en route, unlike the surly Italians who couldn't give two flying fucks. It's also absurdly expensive; fitted hats were "on sale" for $75. My buddy from Emory who I stayed with has a studio with one bed and a mini-kitchen that costs him $7,500 for the semester.
Of course, Copenhagen's pride and joy (no, not the fucking stupid mermaid), is Christiania. When you walk in to the "neighborhood" there are large signs that proclaim "You are now leaving the EU"...you're not, but I guess the Danish think it's cute so they let them play their little game. Inside is a big open-air market with tons of stalls selling any smoking device, accessory, or gimmick you could ever imagine. Of course, beyond those are the actual goods:
Look familiar? Actually, though?
Taking a clue from (more like completely ripping off) one of my fellow and favorite internetz scribez0rz, I will allay to you some tales in pure diary fashion accompanied by pictures, in the form of which "Widukinds Diary Entry" has never seen.
This past week was my week-long winter break, allowing me time to leave the Eternal City that I have come to love and explore some of Europe's fine cities, nations, and people.My first stop was Copenhagen, Denmark. A charming old place, Copenhagen is clean as a whistle. Each Dane seemingly owns like 8 bikes. It's kind of cool, but it's also kind of annoying when you're walking around and unwittingly amble in to the bike lane and hear some poor Danish person screech to a halt before slamming in to you on their bicycle. I find it incredibly entertaining simply because bike/pedestrian clashes have to be one of the more awkward things you could witness. I didn't actually see one, but try and picture it in your head and tell me that's not funny. As one would expect everything works to a tee there; even if the metro from the airport is late, they are kind enough to inform you en route, unlike the surly Italians who couldn't give two flying fucks. It's also absurdly expensive; fitted hats were "on sale" for $75. My buddy from Emory who I stayed with has a studio with one bed and a mini-kitchen that costs him $7,500 for the semester.
Of course, Copenhagen's pride and joy (no, not the fucking stupid mermaid), is Christiania. When you walk in to the "neighborhood" there are large signs that proclaim "You are now leaving the EU"...you're not, but I guess the Danish think it's cute so they let them play their little game. Inside is a big open-air market with tons of stalls selling any smoking device, accessory, or gimmick you could ever imagine. Of course, beyond those are the actual goods:
Look familiar? Actually, though?There are literally guys standing behind stalls with weed and hash laid out with names and prices in front of each, in the middle of a city in which marijuana is illegal. It's a fucking trip. Not only that, it's incredible quality and it was probably the best deal we got during our entire stay in Copenhagen. Christiania, FTW.
Yes homo
Friday night was ruined when we met up with some "kids" from University of Richmond:
Yes homoI put kids in quotations because I simply don't regard them as humans. I'm not even fucking kidding, we walked in to a room with ~20 of these dudes all sitting around drinking beer, without a single female present. My mind was boggled to an extent at which further boggling was no longer feasible. Wisely, me and a few friends decided we would rather sample our earlier purchases from Christiania and hit the proverbial hay. Luckily, my roomates in Rome from Richmond are actual Homo sapiens, unlike these blood-sucking douche-bags.
Saturday night was the infamous Sensation White festival, from which the opening picture of this entry originates. Not really much to say here; though I don't fux with hard drugs this was one occasion where I would have done so, responsibly of course, but they were harder to find than Steve Slaton in the FUCKING ENDZONE OMFG YOU ARE MURDERING MY FANTASY TEAM YOU FAT FUCKFACE. Given that it is Copenhagen all beers were $10, so the night was for the most part spent quite sober. However, it was still a blast. Ecstasy or cheap beer would have made it hyrogen bomb-esque, but c'est la vie.
Sunday I jetted out of lovely Denmark to Hampsterdam. Though it was raining when I arrived, it was good to be back. I arrived ahead of my roomates from Rome, so I met up with a few girls from my program and smoked at their hostel, the famous "Flying Pig". There I had the pleasure of meeting this guy Mack from Redwood City. I will fight legalization of pot until I die, but this is one guy that at least makes you stop and think. Given that I was quite blazed, his series of increasingly depressing answers to my basic questions made the conversation practically unbearable. He was home-schooled from 2nd grade through high-school, dropped out of LA Music School after one year because "fuck real school", and worked his "ass off" at his brother's plumbing company until he saved up enough money to take a break and go to Europe for a month. He went to London, then got to Amsterdam and had spent the rest of his time there. Which, though suspicious, I thought could be cool given that he could have gotten to know the city quite well and been able to see some things most in-and-out tourists don't...I thought all of this until he answered our question, "Where's a good place to eat?" with, "There's a Hard Rock right down the street that's really good." Three weeks in one city, and the one restaurant he could name was the Hard Rock cafe, even after we asked him again and told him we didn't want to eat at the fucking Hard Rock cafe. We also asked him for any cool bars we could check out (this was asked twice, slightly differently and at separate intervals in the conversation) and he answered the exact same way both times: "there are a few bars and clubs right around here that are pretty cool". "Right around here" was, reasonably of course, signified by a lazy raise of his arm and a lethargic twirl of his index finger.
Homo mackius
Saturday night was the infamous Sensation White festival, from which the opening picture of this entry originates. Not really much to say here; though I don't fux with hard drugs this was one occasion where I would have done so, responsibly of course, but they were harder to find than Steve Slaton in the FUCKING ENDZONE OMFG YOU ARE MURDERING MY FANTASY TEAM YOU FAT FUCKFACE. Given that it is Copenhagen all beers were $10, so the night was for the most part spent quite sober. However, it was still a blast. Ecstasy or cheap beer would have made it hyrogen bomb-esque, but c'est la vie.
Sunday I jetted out of lovely Denmark to Hampsterdam. Though it was raining when I arrived, it was good to be back. I arrived ahead of my roomates from Rome, so I met up with a few girls from my program and smoked at their hostel, the famous "Flying Pig". There I had the pleasure of meeting this guy Mack from Redwood City. I will fight legalization of pot until I die, but this is one guy that at least makes you stop and think. Given that I was quite blazed, his series of increasingly depressing answers to my basic questions made the conversation practically unbearable. He was home-schooled from 2nd grade through high-school, dropped out of LA Music School after one year because "fuck real school", and worked his "ass off" at his brother's plumbing company until he saved up enough money to take a break and go to Europe for a month. He went to London, then got to Amsterdam and had spent the rest of his time there. Which, though suspicious, I thought could be cool given that he could have gotten to know the city quite well and been able to see some things most in-and-out tourists don't...I thought all of this until he answered our question, "Where's a good place to eat?" with, "There's a Hard Rock right down the street that's really good." Three weeks in one city, and the one restaurant he could name was the Hard Rock cafe, even after we asked him again and told him we didn't want to eat at the fucking Hard Rock cafe. We also asked him for any cool bars we could check out (this was asked twice, slightly differently and at separate intervals in the conversation) and he answered the exact same way both times: "there are a few bars and clubs right around here that are pretty cool". "Right around here" was, reasonably of course, signified by a lazy raise of his arm and a lethargic twirl of his index finger.
Homo mackiusAfter finally shedding ourselves of this amicable cretin, we got some dinner and then walked in to a candy store. I can't remember the last time I had been in a candy store, much less high, and much less a mind-blowing Dutch candy-Valhalla. I was like a...like a...dung beetle in an elephant herd's fresh turd mound. Prolly the analogy I'm looking for. I didn't take a picture of my spoils, but I can assure you even the Namesake would have been proud of my sugared-coated exploits.
This post is expanding rapidly, so I shall pause here for now. The next chapter of my journey includes some magical entities finding their lovely way in to my stomach, albeit with quite uncomfortable results. Tune in next time for the continued European jaunts of Widukind the Fungivore.
This post is expanding rapidly, so I shall pause here for now. The next chapter of my journey includes some magical entities finding their lovely way in to my stomach, albeit with quite uncomfortable results. Tune in next time for the continued European jaunts of Widukind the Fungivore.
4 comments:
I remember going to Copenhagen a few years ago. Sadly, I missed out on Christiania (I was only 15 and was thus still scared of the reefer) but my brother told me tales of it. Did you go to the Tivoli Gardens? I remember getting all schwastey and hitting up them roller-coasters. I also remember diving headfirst into a puddle for $10. Yep. First blackout ever.
Also, this Mack character sounds like a sad human being, but I do sympathize with his silly responses to your question in one respect: what the fuck kind of authentic food do you find in Amsterdam? What the hell IS Dutch food? I would imagine it's something like German food, which would be bomb (though Abriendo or RJHal or DoucheGuy or whatever he goes by nowadays foolishly says he's sick of it).
Diggin' the posts, Widu, no matter the format. Also, fuck doing fantasy overseas.
i beat alex in fantasy.
love it mikey. keep it up.
dad was hit by a bike in denmark when he was there on business and came back with a big cut on his leg, i think.
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