Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - boat home

It was a bit of a rush getting all our stuff packed up in time to catch the overnight boat to England and our flight back home. What a job! I had no idea we had collected so much stuff. My poster roll is full, there are all our gifts to take back, books and masses of new clothes. And all those clothes that we packed and never even wore once! I decided to dump out half my old clothes and tell Mom they got stolen or lost or something. I will never wear them again anyway, now that I’ve discovered my new style.

Our boat cabin is tiny. I took the top bunk, thrilled to see enormous duvets. We treated ourselves to a posh dinner in the dining room. Niki was on the hunt to find someone dashing for a last European fling, but everyone seemed to be with someone else and way over 40.

We talked about going back to university and how we were going to manage the transition. I found I was actually looking forward to it more than Niki was, despite the fact that I have only a tenuous idea of what courses I'm going to take. She sacked out early, but I lay on my stomach facing the foot of the bed, from where I could see out the microscopic porthole. The view consisted entirely of sea and sky, a most perfect view in my opinion.

Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - sleeping next to the dead

Crossing Jutland we discovered how very flat and windy Denmark really is with its yellow fields, old villages and windmills. We saw stork nests occasionally but no storks. A few forests of beech and oak, pine and lime trees. Clouds shifting as the air grew humid with the passing hours. Niki spent the entire bus trip talking to three Swedish guys who are going to the same place as us.

When we arrived, the boys went one way (place already booked and full) and we strode off to find out own digs, which we did quite easily. Our pension landlady called us ‘the two ladies’, told us what we should see in town and assured us of an excellent breakfast. This was said with a vocabulary of five English words, two of which are ‘two’ and ‘ladies’.

Our room overlooks a picturesque churchyard with lopsided gravestones but the inside demands more attention, if not sunglasses! It has a plastic shower plunked right in the middle of it, curtained with a hot pink pastic sheet. the room also contains orange drapes, green bedding, red plastic roses and silk violets in purple vases, a bronze sea-faring scene on the wall, a gilt edged mirror, multi-flowered wallpaper leaning prominently towards the pink end of the colour spectrum, and a cut glass chandelier in the middle of the ceiling that gets knocked every time the shower door is opened. When the sun shines it kind of hurts just to look at it.

It was clear that we wanted to spend our last night here in different ways. Niki and I parted, saying “See you in the morning.” What a feeling of freedom to go out alone, wherever I wanted! I started by finding a concert by a string quartet in a little church hall, then went to a local disco where I drank a few beer and danced by myself in a crowd. I even got asked to dance by a couple of really good looking guys. It felt good to be asked when it was just me and I knew they weren’t doing it to get closer to Niki or because they felt sorry for me. I could even flirt a bit, but not really get myself in trouble. I would never have had the confidence to do this two months ago. It was one of the best nights of my life. But I have to say I’ll die happy if I never hear another Abba song ever again.

I wandered back under a sky filled with stars and sliver of a moon woven between wraiths of cloud. The air was hot and heavy and I flung myself onto the bed, too hot to crawl under the covers. A thunderstorm started a few minutes later – great flashes of lightning and more wind than usual whipping at the trees. I didn’t dare look outside, because I knew I’d get freaked out if I saw the headstones in the graveyard across the street, so I just lay there in the dark until it was over. What a way to spend my last night in Denmark, very ‘Hamlet’!

I must have fallen asleep quite quickly, because I awoke with a start when I heard Niki return. The sun was just beginning to hint at rising and my friend was silhouetted in the grey predawn. She didn’t look at me but simply collapsed into bed after throwing her clothes off all over the floor. I kind of smiled and turned over to try to get a bit more sleep.

Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - fashion style

We have seen a lot of Jens and Ana while in Copenhagen. They've taken us to bars and jazz clubs where we finally hear something other than Abba songs. We saw the palace and the little mermaid statue from Han Christian Anderson’s fairy tales, which was a lot smaller than I’d imagined. The best was Tivoli, where we drank cocktails and saw a show on the stage with its amazing peacock curtain that opens out like a fan. One afternoon I left Niki and took a bus to see Kronberg Castle in Helsingor, or Elsinore as it is in Hamlet. I don’t think Shakespeare ever actually saw this place. Imagine that, I’m one up on Shakespeare! The days are longer here, but then I guess we are farther north. The light is different, too - purer, cleaner, sharper.

We'll be heading home soon and I have bought a ton of stuff; Ana knows all the best stores. Niki and I each got thick brown and white Icelandic sweaters and velour lounging outfits. Mine is a navy two piece with loose trousers, a long zip up the jacket and two pockets that slant out from the bottom. It’s really stylish. I don’t really lounge, but it looks good. I also got a Boda crystal heart-shaped pendant at the Permanent Exhibition of Danish Goods. Ana nodded approval saying she liked my fashion style. Wow! Someone thinks I have fashion style! We tried to take them out to a fancy restaurant to thank them but they refused. Ana told us to save our money and “just pass it on to someone else.” I like that idea.

I have mixed feelings about heading home. On the one hand I am keen to tell everyone about our trip and show them my photos and new clothes and to give them the presents I have bought. And it will be awfully nice not to have to figure out where I'm going to sleep or eat. On the other hand it means I have to get serious about school and the direction my life is going to take. It's been lovely wandering around having fun and thinking about things in an abstract way and talking about things to other people who don't really know me and won't pass judgement and learning about things as they pass in and out of my path, but without having to actually make any sort of decision or take any sort of action or even to work very hard at anything.

Travel is a seductive and I don't mean in the Niki-you-are-good-looking-let's-have-sex kind of way but in the fact that everything's here and laid out for you to see it and try it. The efforts of so many generations and centuries is done, complete and here for me to experience without adding any real effort of my own. It's easy. Sometimes so easy I take it all for granted and forget that it's not mine to keep forever, that I'm only passing through, that I haven't made any real contribution. And I do want to contribute somehow, somewhere, but am stymied and stessed about how and what. The architecure, the art, the music - everything here, whether dynamic or staid, is already built or painted or composed. It's daunting to think I have to start from scratch and make something out of life that isn't framed by anything yet. I might botch it up or not have the patience or talent to see it through. What is the best thing for me to devote my life to doing? The decisions I take now are going to affect my whole life. What if I make the wrong decision? What if I waste my whole life trying to do something that ends up being the wrong thing?

Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - life lessons

This morning we shared a typical Danish snack, which were open-faced sandwiches on thin slices of dark pumpernickel bread with toppings like scrambled egg, ham, and chopped up tomatoes. We also had fresh strawberries and pastries. I guess I can’t call them ‘Danish Pastries’ – it would be too much like the ‘Swiss Cheese’ and ‘French Fries’ thing. Jens also filled small glasses with something dark that smelled disgusting. Everyone had one and we were told to swallow it whole. It’s called bitters and apparently every Dane worth his salt starts the day with a shot. It left us gasping! So pungent and strong. Surely they don’t do this every day! Niki said it tasted like tar and I said I thought it resembled turpentine more and she said I was being too persnikety and I was always too persnickety and maybe I should become a teacher after all because I’m a know-it-all who likes telling everyone when they are wrong. I ignored the sting and took it as a compliment. Maybe we have been travelling together a little too long.

The Danes were very direct. After breakfast, we walked along the train carriage corridors while Ana peppered us with questions about ourselves before ‘counselling’ me. “You know you should really look people in the eye. I know you are shy, but looking at the ground is so antisocial. People will think you are rude. And get better glasses. They aren’t the right shape for your face. You know, your eyes are really lovely. Have you thought of contact lenses? That way people could see your eyes and you would not hide away behind those thick glasses. And don’t be afraid of being small. Your height is your height. Walk proud and for goodness sake keep your arms away from your waist. It looks like you are trying to keep your stomach from falling out of your body.” She never says anything like this to Niki - probably because Niki is already perfect.

We talked about what parts of our bodies we like best. Even Jens. I didn’t know guys felt as sensitive about some things as girls did. It's a revelation. Niki likes her boobs and hips. Someone complimented me on my ears once and of course I was still thinking about Ana’s comments about my eyes. I wish I had inherited my Mom’s hands. She has lovely hands, and doesn’t seem to know it. Even when she is complimented on them she tosses it off dismissively. I feel sorry for those hands, so beautiful and so unappreciated. If I had hands like that I would cherish them. Maybe I should tell her sometime that I think they are beautiful. I wonder what she would say. I get kind of embarrassed just thinking about it. Ana loves her shoulders and Jens favours his long athletic legs. He bicycles everywhre he tells us which is why his legs are brown and muscular. I was too shy to really look, but Niki bent down and felt his calf muscle. Right there in the middle of the second class compartments! She whistled her appreciation and I blushed while the others laughed. I think I should really try to follow Ana's counsel and maybe I'd feel less like an outsider.

Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - found!

Woke up to glorious sunshine and the most delightful surprise. Niki had resigned herself to purselessness, but when we checked out of the hostel, there it was! On a shelf at the back of the hostel office! She just screamed. Every blessed thing was intact, right down to the last Deutschmark. It sure restored our faith in human nature. My guess was it was the hostel card inside that hinted where we were staying, but what impossible luck!

It was a lighthearted day despite having to lug around our bags. When we got to our evening train, in lots of time, we were thrilled to find an empty couchette, but just as we settled down an impatient German conductor chased us out. We found another one with two guys in it. Niki was keen but I put my foot down. Sleeping in a train with two strange men was just too worrying. I’m learning that if I pick my moments to say ‘no’ it’s more powerful and Niki has no problem with it at all, merely shrugging her shoulders. And I know she’s not so stupid as to have sex at any cost. After wandering down long aisles with our bulging packs mashing through narrow doors, we found another couchette with a young couple in it. They seemed really pleasant. When the same conductor came by he scowled at us and said some things which I’m sure weren’t very nice, but the couple spoke back and he left with a stormy look. I got the feeling the couple didn’t think much of him either.

They are brother and sister on their way back home to Copenhagen. What a coincidence, that’s where we’re going! As soon as Niki found out they weren’t married, she got her glittery lion love eyes on and chatted almost exclusively with the guy, Jens. I wasn’t sure about him yet – he had a tattoo, an earring and a distant attitude, but his sister Ana was friendly in a forceful kind of way. The first thing she said to me was my handshake was too limp and I’d better learn how to do it properly or I’ll never get ahead in the world. I am a little cowed by Ana. We thanked them for their help and took the top bunks, lying in hot, airless discomfort, but at least we were horizontal and safe from marauders.

Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - lost

A real downer of a day. It started just after lunch. We were at a pub drinking blond pils, which tastes just like lager. But anyway, part way into our second glass we were asked to move into another room to make room for the lunchtime rush. We did, then had something to eat, different kinds of ‘wurst’ sausages, and some sauerkraut. I love all the different sausages you can get in Germany - some of them are peppery and some quite bland but they are all delicious, and they go so well with the vinegary sauerkraut. While I was eating I was thinking about how Captain Cook was the first person to solve the scurvy issue by serving his men sauerkraut and imagining what it must have been like for those men to go through such an awful disease and then realizing that something so simple to transport could relieve them. Of course oranges and lemons would also have saved them but there were so difficult to transport for voyages of more and a week or two which was practically all of them in those days.

Niki broke my reverie by grabbing my arm. “My purse! Do you see my purse? It’s gone! Some bastard stole my purse!” Then she realized she had left it in the other room hooked over the back of her chair, but when we ran back it was nowhere to be seen.

After looking everywhere at least six times, and getting the barman all flustered wiht the same questions being asked of him several times in quick succession. "Did you see who took my purse? It was right here! How could you have not seen it? Ye Gods and little fishes!", we decided to go to the police. Thank goodness she had her passport, travel cheques and Eurail receipt, although the actual pass was gone. The cash was a write-off, but the sentimental things really hurt, like the wallet, a gift from her parents, and a couple of photos. We went to the bank first so she could change some money and a few blocks towards the police station realized that she’d left her knapsack at the bank! Poor Niki. Severely shaken, she just jabbered constantly, repeating herself and talking way too fast and moving in quick, jerky movements. The lion that was Niki was suddenly a sand flea.

The police were kind and took pains to write everything down. I made her take a copy of the report for insurance purposes which I thought was extremely sensible of me, then insisted on treating her to something at the first place we saw. The first place we saw only sold hot chocolate. Niki took my arm, turned on her heel and led me down the road to a bar. I guess hot chocolate is a little lame after such a dramatic experience.

I tried to keep her mind on positive things, but she talked about her lost purse throughout the entire day and evening. I tried to be sympathetic and listen each time like it was the first time I’d heard the story, but I was exhausted when we finally went to bed.

Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - ruminations in Germany

I haven’t written for a few days – we seem to spend all day walking and then fall into our beds exhausted. The hostel has a kitchen, so we’ve been cooking our evening meals to save a bit of money. Niki was a bit hung over the first night so I did the dinner. I had learned a few German words and was desperate to try them out. I decided the local deli might be the best place and tried to time it so that it wouldn't be too busy, but it seems it is always busy. I couldn’t bear trying out my newly learned words in front of so many locals, so I waited by the door a bit while I practiced my lines and tried not to look like I was waiting. Finally the shop was almost empty so I screwed up my courage and walked up to the counter where a shiny, red cheeked woman beamed down at me.

“Gooden alben. Haben sie butter?” I said in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner.

The lady answered “Ya” and then a whole pile of other words I had no idea about. I must have looked completely alarmed because she tilted her head for moment while considering me, then smilingly moved her hands to show small or big. I motioned small and nodded when she got to the right amount. She looked at me expectantly so I tried round two.

“Kahn ik ein I?”

“Ein?”

“Ya, danke.”

“Bitte.”

“Danke. Auf Vedersang.”

Outside again I felt so proud of the egg and butter I’d purchased. The whole experience filled me with a strange sort of elation. The power of words! What must it be like to speak many languages? I must find out. Maybe I should become a French or a German scholar instead. Or maybe even Latin. That would help me read some of my older maps.

During the day Niki and I eat in pubs, trying different beers or wines. The beer makes us burp, which I try to cover but Niki displays proudly. She’s been trying for days to get a whole phrase out with one burp: ‘Walla, Walla Washington’. She’s got the ‘Walla, Walla’ bit, but fades during the ‘Washington’. A bit more practice and she’ll have it. My mother would be horrified, and I can’t believe that we are really 18 years old, but it feels great to act immature and silly sometimes. I am laughing a lot on this trip.

We got to see the mechanical clock in the central Marianplatz at noon. Everyone says it’s famous, but I don’t think it was worth the build up. I persuaded Niki to see the State Museum, but we only got to see a small portion because it closed early that day. We did see a collection of armour in the original city arsenal but that was kind of depressing. The most important thing for me was getting to see the largest science museum in the world, not because I'm any good at science or know much about it, but because it's the biggest in the world. I wanted to know what that felt like so that everything I see in the future can relate to it contextually. The most interesting thisng was a terrific film and photo section in the Municipal Museum. I got kind of involved at that one until I saw Niki out of the corner of my eye sleeping on a bench and I knew it was time to go. Niki is always telling me to slow down and just sit awhile, “Why do you have to try to see every single museum, every area of the city, every monument? Most of them are exactly the same as the others and extremely boring. And your obsession with looking at new maps and old books is just plain bizarre. It’s like I’m travelling with some boring old professor.” She didn't think much of my latest purchase either, despite the fact that it was as far from an old book or map as you can get. But who couldn't resist a metal duck on a tricycle with a propeller on its head? Maybe I am a little eccentric. I decided not to let her words hurt but instead take them as a compliment.

We’ve taken a couple of day trips to villages, passing fairytale castles, houses with painted frescoes and monasteries that make sickly sweet liqueurs. We were most disappointed to find the black forest is neither black nor a forest. At least not a forest like the ones I grew up with in B.C., dense evergreens and spooky shadows. It didn't even look like the snowy logs on the top of a black forest cake. I usually get a say in what we do in the daytime, but in our evenings after dinner we do what Niki wants and go from pub to disco. Sometimes she goes off with a guy and sometimes she comes back to the hostel with me. If she comes back with me we drink Halbtrocken wine, perfect for late night talks. It’s so great having someone to talk to about issues and ideas. Niki’s not really that way inclined but when we get off the boy topic and she gets inspired she does have some interesting ideas.

“What is it about meringues? I mean, who knew that egg whites could whip up that much? How did the first person think to try? And mushrooms. How do they know which ones were safe to eat? I guess there’s only one way really. Can you picture it? ‘Oops, Johnson’s gone. I guess the red and white spotted ones are on the ‘no’ list.’”

“Have you noticed how some mushrooms grow in a circle? A fairy ring I’ve heard it called.”

“Circles are powerful symbols. Circle of life. Wedding bands. Holding hands in a séance.”

“Have you ever been to a séance?”

“No but I read a book on how to read palms.” Niki sat up. “Here, give me your hand. The left one. Palm side up. Wow, you have a really long lifeline. That’s one of the longest I’ve seen.” She flipped my hand away. “Lucky bitch. Mine is short and is crossed with tons of lines. That means I’ll have lots of short term relationships and then die young.”

I looked at my hand. I didn’t see many lines crossing my lifeline.

Niki went on, “My Mom has almost no lines at all. It is so freaky. I mean, almost none! I thought it was maybe because she is Japanese, but my Grandmother’s hand is all lines and she’s Japanese. Real Japanese. Born there. Mom only had three boyfriends in her entire life. I think Grandmother was a bit of a party girl in her day I hear, so maybe I get that from her. If so, that’s the only thing she’s ever given me.”

“She gave you her feet too – you both have tiny feet. Were they bound when she was a girl? Do they still do that in Japan?”

“I mean like cash. She never gives me cash. She’s so mean. She keeps it all hidden away saying I’m not ready for it. Not ready for it? I was born ready! Even at Christmas, her gifts are so cheap. Even cheaper than my parents’.”

I squirmed a bit. This kind of talk always makes me uncomfortable.

Niki took hold of my hand again and looked at the back of it with a look of shock. “Ye gods. Look at your nails. They’re terrible! You’re a biter aren’t you? Come on, I‘m going to give you a manicure. What do you mean you’ve never had a manicure before? You’re a baby! I’ve got a cool orange shade that will work for you. Now pay attention. Then you can practice what you learn on me."

She opened up a small bag and spilled its contents on my bed. I was amazed to see a cascade of clacking pots of nail polish. What was I thinking, that her fingernails suddenly turned different colours of their own accord? How is it that I am really observant about some things and totally blind to other things right there in front of me?

"While I’m doing this tell me what you were working on in your notebook all day.”

“Calligraphy. There are some really interesting scripts in my new exploration atlas and I thought I would learn how to write like that. Not all the time. But for special things like birthday cards.”

“Well, my Dad always says no talent, however weird, is without value, or something like that.”

“That’s an interesting notion. I never thought about it like that, but it makes sense. I mean, think about all the advances in geographical knowledge that came in the 18th century. Did they just happen? No, it was only because of all the scientific advances and equipment that was invented in the 17th century.”

“Hmmm. Whatever. Nothing starts at the top but a hole.”

“I like that. Hey Niki that’s really good. ‘Nothing starts at the top but a hole.’ Did you just come up with that?”

“No, my Dad did. He’s full of crap like that. Now, do you want your nails rounded or squared off?”

Despite their new and rather bilious orange colour, our nails looked so good that we took them out for the night. Well, mine looked good, Niki's were a little messy but she said I'll get the hang of it in time. Another cheap night out too. We have scored a lot of free drinks and food thanks to Niki. She’s good at flirting, able to get what she wants without having to give anything away that she doesn’t want to. She calls it “not taking shite”. It’s great fun just to watch her in action, although I am getting tired of hearing her repeat the same stories to each of her conquests. Especially about her name. Every time someone asks what it is she rolls her eyes dramatically and goes into the same, long story. Half the guys don’t even know what Sputnik was, and others think it’s weird to be named for it just because she was conceived the night after it was launched.

I don’t like to think of having been conceived, especially by my parents.