Somewhere between Singapore and Copenhagen:
-Mr?
-Yes?
- Did you request a raw vegetable meal?
- Ehh... no.
- Oh. It says so on my list.
- Hmmm.... I think my travel agent was having a bit of fun.
- You must be very close to your travel agent, Mr.
- Too close...
A similar scene had already been played out on the flight from Sydney to Singapore a few hours earlier: I certainly did not request a Hindu meal. I do sit next to Matt at work though, and he does have an interesting sense of humour.
A few hours later we arrived safely in Copenhagen, and made our way to our hotel for an early check-in. We got our keys and headed for room 554... I am not sure who got the biggest shock when I opened the door though; me, the girl that barely managed to cover her upper body, or the guy lying on his back having no clue what was going on. Needless to say, we got a new room - and this time the staff went and checked it was empty before giving us the keys.
The rest of the day we spent wandering around Copenhagen - checking out the Royal palace, the opera (affectionately known as"the toaster"), Tivoli and much more. That evening we had a lovely dinner with a few Danish friends and a wonderful little baby girl (tip from the parents: when giving baby clothes to newborns, try to avoid the traditional and oh so predictable pink or baby blue... it's cute, but only in moderation. White with little green hearts works great though :)
The next morning we headed to Sweden on a half-empty, six-car train. As soon as we arrived in Malmö, Sweden, half the train was disconnected and the number of passengers doubled. Further proof that the Swedes really aren't that smart. Hence, we traveled standing up for the rest of our journey. At least the 30th birthday/midsummer party made up for the inadequacies of Swedish intelligence. It should, however, be noted that we went all the way from Sydney to almost middle of nowhere Sweden to attend a birthday party for a girl that made four of her best friends sleep on the neighbors doormat, in the middle of January, the last time we came to visit... This time it was a lot warmer, the bedding more comfortable, and we had a fabulous time, with great Swedish food and entertainment. At midnight we all danced around the fertility pole, as tradition requires, singing traditional Swedish midsummer songs with the odd Christmas carol thrown in for good measure. The four other Aussies we dragged along certainly got to experience something new and different.
After the party we went back to Malmö to stay with our friend, this time on the right side of the door. To further introduce us to interesting Swedish traditions, she dragged us along to the public sauna. Try to imagine this and then tell me if you might find it a little awkward: 6 saunas, 3 for each sex, placed on a jetty a few hundred metres out in the ocean. Head to the men's change room with a guy you only met about 24 hours earlier, strip and head for the sauna. Sit in the sauna for 15 minutes, butt-naked, with your new friend and 8 other naked guys, in all shapes and sizes, and sweat. A lot. Then walk outside, still naked, and jump in the ocean. The ocean in Sweden is not warm.
Some advise: try to be the first guy back up the stairs after your swim or stay in the cold water for a bit longer and admire the women doing the same thing 100 metres away. If you're number two or three up the stairs, the view may not be too good. Repeat sauna and swim process four times. Then shower and get dressed. It's quite a liberating experience. My friend told me her work actually took them there for a work function - it takes team-building sessions to a whole new level.
The next morning we tried another new thing: Ryanair. Seat-back pockets? No. Reclining seats? No. Cheap? Yes. And they got us to London on time. We the headed off to Cambridge, a university town like all university towns should be. Except the weather was rather unpredictable... we stayed at a hotel with a great golf course, and the the sun was shining when I booked our tee-time. By the time tee-off came around... it was windy and wet. So we ventured back to London and caught up with a friend and had the national dish of Britain: Indian food. I had to laugh today though, when I saw this wonderfully oxymoronic sign outside a pub: "We serve great British food". Is the food great in general (unlikely), or just great compared to other British food (possibly)? Sadly, they'd forgotten to include this piece of information.
Last night we had nice seats for something truly great and British (ok, it is based on a novel by a Frenchman, but the greatness is in the musical and the performance): the Phantom of the Opera. It was worth every penny. Now there is only about 16 shows left on my must-see list. A few days of London was truly a magnificent experience. Pity about the weather being more winter-in-Sydney than European-summer like.
