From Helsinki to Hajji!!
15.06.2009 - 24.06.2009
Hello. Cous again. Just crossed the border into Serbia from Hungary. Exit Festival in less than 90 mins, so this damn blog quebecois has to get done, cus we still haven't made it to when we touched Hajji, and so far we've been with her for 2 week.
It was on the 15th of June that we left dynamic Ivo and made it to Helsinki. As soon as we touched Finland, the weather turned sour grape and Ren and I had about 3 hour to kill before we were to meet my friend Anna, from my Copenhagen days, so we decided to hunker down somewhere and pass it. We holed up in an urban cave, underneath an apartment's window, sleeping bags and toques. Our first Finnish encounter walked past and screamed through the gale, with his finger pointing to the sky, "Lousy veather!" We nested on a bed of pebbles and ate peanuts and dried fruit while we watched a movie about Danish pervs. Time flew, and the rain stopped.
Our cozy rubadub Helsinki hubnub.
That night, Anna started right away showing us what a nifty hostess she is. We went to a screening of short films made by friends of her's from the city film school. There were about five shorties from the spectrum over; Finnish-language shorties at that! It was all terribly cool and avant-garde, and then we drank some of Anna's fave beers with some of the artists/stars/hipsters.
Helsinki was what it was because of Anna, and we owe her everything. She took us to a friend's place for Spanish omelettes and juice, 2nd-hand shopping where Cous, (that's me), got real neat shoes and shorts and postcards, and even a swanky scarf for Paul Walker. We also took a train to Turku and made hang-out with some of her pals there - couple of extra-cool Finns who we played bar bingo with. The fella worked at-slash-owned a record shop 'round the corner and was a musicman extraordinaire - 2,000 CDs and many, many LPs. Had a ball in that delicious town. Then it was back to Helsinki for a nice day at an abandoned power plant...a concert that never was and a graffiti wall littered with artists in the midsts. Beers with more friends followed.
The next morn Anna walked us to the bus stop for our ride to the airport - Helsinki to Stockholm, express! And we were off.........goodbye my sweet Finnish friend!
After an 18-Euro shuttle from Arlanda to the centre of Stockholm, and a metro ride to Andrea's place, we took a walk though the pretty city and bought 6L of wine for the Mid-Summer party the next day. We only had one night in Stockholm, at a friend's of Andrea's who was out of town, (and whose place was this incroyable aparta, all to me and Ren and nobody else).
For Mid-Summer the next day, we hopped a bus to Vasteras, an hour West of Stockholm, and made it to our friend Krista's place just in time for the food. Now let me say this, the place that she rents is like something out of that lovable Canadian classic Anne of Green Gables. It's a one-bedroom affair behind the main house, with gardens surrounding it, running down to the river. Flowers and trees and chickens and roosters and an old gate and rural silence all trick you into believing you're at an old farmhouse miles and kilometres from any city, but from her door to the city centre is a 10 min stroll, no more!
So GD darling......
The party was an international gumbo - Swedes, Germans, Dutch, Canadians, and even a French. Food and wine and music and a maypole that tonnes of Swedish people insisted on twirling and flouncing around. That day and night were so perfect, and Krista K. Walsh is a damn saint. We spent another day in Vasteras, more of the same, with wine and food and Euros, until the next morning when Krista dropped us and our trappings at the local Shell, where we started the hitchhike to Copenhagen.
The going was slow, with nobody actually going out of town, but when we decided to move to the on-ramp, we were scooped up by the first car! Not going far though, the Turkish father and son duo dumped us at a nice little junction with tonnes of traffic. But, like everybody had been telling us, the Swedes are a suspicious bunch, and all we got was squints and leers and puzzled housewives averting their eyes. So we walked a bit to a new spot, I hid myself so that more dudes would pull over hoping to give a pretty girl a ride sans me, and almost immediately a guy pulled over, going to Malmo, right across the strait from Copes. We popped in and the ride was smooth as, a 6-hour jaunt South through that glorious kingdom of Three Crowns.
Another hitch from Malmo to Copenhagen, across the bridge that connects Sweden and Denmark, a free bus deeper into the city, and we were at Thomas' place. Thomas Hansen was my best friend from my exchange in Denmark, and it was the tip-tops to see him again. By some stroke of heaven he is without job too, so we got to spend all day every day with him, wandering this way and that through the city, taking burr at every turn. It was the bestest to be back, to see the sights and feel the feels that made me love every day of the six months I spent there back in 2005. Kongens Nytorv, Nyhavn, Amalienborg, Islands Brygge, and to Amager Beach for another Mid-Summer shiner. God golly goody every minute spent in that bodacious babe Copes was magic. It made me swear to myself that I will go back every opportunity I can, and to spend some real time there soon.
Ren, Thomas and I on the dastardly beams of Nyhavn.
After 3 day with Thomas, we were forced to vamoose. We took the train to the highway, and after some upstart walking through reeds and weeds along the Holbaek Motorvej, with Ren leading the way, with calves suffering, with sweat trick trick trickling over our hitchy signs, and with maddening Danes zipping and zooming and honking past us, we were picked up by a VW-kinda man willing to throw us anywhere...and he did. Then then, after 3 hour heading South with a silent great dane, and a drop in Gedser, we were graciously ladled onto the ferry with some Germans who were pleased beyond belief to turr with us. They scurvied us aboard the crossing, and then when it came time, made big time to wait and see Hajji come around the Rostock port and find us by the duty-free shop-stop. I love everyone that was involved in that rendez-vous. Ren and I finally met Hajji on the sensual docks of the Rostock docks...and I will never forget it. Boo, Tannis, Conrad...there to scoop us and scurry us to Fusion...........heart and beauty. And off to Fusion.