Sunday, September 28, 2008

Misc notes from the road.

If you want to make bomb jokes at airports, do it in Denmark. The check in guys where laughing at me for first asking if it was okay to check a bag with a lighter in it, then asking them to dispose of a camping gaz canister (disposing of these things is an arse, took me a while to realise that airports must have a good way of disposing of them). Lots of over-arm throwing actions where made by the baggage guys.

I also managed to properly gash my hand while taking the pedals of my bike. I carried my first aid kit all the way around Europe and then used half my supplies in Copenhagen airport. Typical. I spend 3 hours in A&E on Sunday with a very nice nurse watchin 'allo 'allo getting the bike oil out of the wound.

A holiday happily lacking any real stories. Everything went to plan (there wasn't one), I achieved what I wanted to (I got to Copenhaagen), and there where just minor accidents - broken spokes, having to stay at a hotel because I was late in and a cut finger. Kinda strange - either a very good or very bad thing...

When I got in to Denmark I found myself always running in one of 3 modes - [Eating|Riding|Sleeping] It was kinda hard to break out of this. Whenever I wasn't in the saddle I wanted to eat. When I wasn't on the bike at the end of the day I wanted to sleep. Easiest thing was to keep eating ;)

Riding through france, belgium, holland, germany and denmark in such a fast sequence left some part of my brain struggling to learn the current language. There where enough similar works ("dushe" == shower) to fool it into thinking it was the same languge. Maybe I was learning latin, maybe Esperanto - I was probably learning nothing...

I've found that kinda peaceful, effortless state of mind I was looking for. It's kinda expressed as a "I don't need to care about that now" attitude, but feels nice and warm. I walked into the Tesco's I know and love (I normally enjoy food shopping, and I was looking forward to knowing exactly where the food I could eat was) and suddenly the world was full of the routine of last year, and it felt kinda sticky. I found myself walking the same route I always do through the store and my mind started wandering, there was nothing in my immediate surroundings to think about. Routine is something to come home to, not live for. But routine always chases you all the way up the meta tree, so best keep climbing it.

Photos are up, am working on tagging and organising them.

From the gent's toilet walls in Copenhaagen


Little solace comes
to those who grieve,
When thoughts keep drifting
as walls keep shifting
and this great blue world of ours
seems a house of leaves...
moments before the wind.

Zampano

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