Wednesday 30 July 2008

Filthy and Sweating

After a horrendous night's sleep on the train from Köln to Copenhagan, a 15 hour journey, with 4 of the dullest people I've ever had the misfortune to share a compartment with, I am now sprawled out in a park, sun and wind filtering very agreeably through the trees, pipe filled with Danish tobacco infused with port, 2 cans of Tuborg and the bustling city of Copenhagan behind me.

The compartment was just as big as a normal sleeper and could easily fit 6 bunks in it. Instead there were 3 giant seats on each side opposite each other. Giant, one would naturally assume to be a good thing. However, with seats that big, it's hard to rest your head and body against anything when you want to sleep. One has to delicately balance the head in such a way that it won't roll off and wake one up...just at the crucial moment of dreamy oblivion.

I imagine the discomfort was designed so the train company can charge two separate prices, the sleepers being the premium of course. If the sitting compartments were bearable, then less people would pay a premium for a sleeper, making them less profit.

The company was made up of 2 young chubby Nordic fellows, who actually seemed rather pleasant. Then there was a young couple. She appeared to be plain Russian. He, Swedish, and chubby, yet masculine...oh how men can get away such a look! I would have thought nothing of it, and may have even attempted some polite conversation, if it weren't for their complete lack of concern for their immediate surroundings. The first thing they did after putting their bags up, was to open their filthy, sweating Burger King meals in front of everyone, releasing the most repulsive of odours, made worse by the heat of the evening. Could they not have eaten in the corridor with the window open? Could they not have simply bought bread and cheese like a respectable and well seasoned traveller should do...and done every one concerned a favour?

Next was the young cretin's reaction to some over excitable youths in the corridor. Didn't bother me, as I couldn't understand a word of it...it was just noise, a few joyous yelps over the machinery of the train. In the company of 3 people he did not know, he relayed to his girlfriend "Urgh, Norwegians. So irritating. That's the one thing that you can tell the difference by with Swedes and Norwegians, they're so damn loud."

Now I know I'm not completely innocent when it comes to perpetuating national stereotypes, but I do so for the sake of banter, which I see little wrong with. But this man, was overly serious and sincere. He was also complaining about how slow the train was going within 15 minutes of alighting! The train will get there when it gets there, you numbskull.

So, yes, now in Copenhagan, too many sites to see in one day, so an aimless wander about stopping in parks to read, drink beer, smoke a pipe, and write some nonsense in my notebook. All these historic statues I've walked by, bustling hordes of tourists consumed by some particular detail. I've not the faintest clue of any of it. And does it really matter? I'd rather read in depth in books, the history of nations, than on tacky plastic signs, patronising summaries.

I am on holiday after all. Though life should always be like this of course. Let Copenhagan, and every city, town or country, be a backdrop to an agreeable experience of idle wandering, park loafing, or barflying.

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