Travellin'

Hello to all the people in the Internet that are STILL willing to read this silly blog... which hasn't been updated in over a month.
Yeah, I'm a bad person. I know this!
But my life has tres tres busy, because I am, of course, a woman in demand, being the foreign type in the new land that needs THOROUGH exploring. So this is what I have been doing!

For example:
Several tidings ago, I was in Odense with my niglets (read: exchange friends) for a weekend of resto-relaxo hyggeligt catchings up. After months of learning the native tongue of Planet Denmark, attempting to understand their culture, and eating their strange foods, it was comforting (and slightly horrific when we realise how bad our accents are becoming) to hang out, bag out a certain redheaded Prime Minister, and indulge in Vegemite without being judged by suspicious natives.

Odense is a tres pretty city, with much to see. We were in H.C Andersen's house,

Hot to trot!

We were in the park,

Not sure what's going on here...

and we ate wayyyy too much.

Before this, we ate pizza, and after this, we ate ice cream. And then nachos. And more ice cream.

I also found myself in Copenhagen for the ANZAC day ceremony, because I am a fantastic Australian.
Well, to be honest, the biggest draw for me was that I might, finally, get to meet the elusive expat Kronprinsesse Mary. My previous attempts of standing outside her house had, so far, proved fruitless. According to my secretive sources, she is often at the ceremony.
This is the ultimate chance, to send the photo I would take with her to everyone back in Australia, and win every bet ever. Simply because, Mary.

NSW or QLD in State of Origin? Mary photo.

Who's going to win the Melbourne cup? Mary photo.

Or other situations:
"What makes you think you're qualified for this job?" Mary photo.

"I can't grant you this home loan..." Mary photo. "Actually, we can grant you this with 0% interest and 50 years to pay it off if you require it..."

"Calculate the mass of the sun and then square it to the power of 79 and than take the potential circumference and apply it to this cake recipe..." Mary photo. A+.

The invite to the ceremony said to be there no later than 9.50am, for a 10.00am start. Oh, of course, this is Denmark. We cannot be late. WE CANNOT BE LATE.

So, when the train arrived at 9.40, minus one friend, we were forced to abandon her as we ran for our lives, and stripping ourselves of our dignity. WE CANNOT BE LATE.
But, upon collapsing in the front garden of the ambassador's house at 9.53am, we were greeted with a big, Aussie smile, and handed a welcome pamphlet.

"Sorry we're late! Oh no, tell us we can still get in!"
"It's all good, girls! No worries!"

Ahhhh, that sound. Yes, Aussies. 

Denmark, you've changed us. Worried about being late to an Australian thing? Psshh. We weren't even the last to arrive, and our friend made it too! (By the skin of her teeth).

After a gorgey-porgey ceremony, we were invited for nibbles. Little did we know that nibbles meant lamingtons, ANZAC biscuits and sausage rolls. Holy Crapola. Stuffing of the face is on the agenda.

We ate it ALL.

Not mention that the ambassador's house was schmicko as all get out. Possible dream job: ambassador to Denmark. Yes, that would be nice.

Pretty house; pretty girls.

We spent the rest of the day kickin' back in pretty, pretty Nyhavn, and were home in time for tea.

Back home in Lolland, it was time to rep it for my class in the school volleyball tournament. My singular beach volleyball lesson back home in mind, I happily signed up for it, in the hope that I would be useful to my class in something.

But... no.

We lost. Every match.
It was safe to say that I was not the only one that completely sucked, though.
With shattered dreams of joining the Brazilian beach volleyball squad one day, I retired to the showers and contemplated my utter defeat.

Next thing you know: bip bam boom, it's time to move.
One of the most equally heartbreaking and great things about rotary: 3 families, 3 months at a time. Last week, I found myself packing up my whole life, yet again. It was truly dreadful to leave the Petersens after 3 months with them... I felt like I finally had a proper home again, and as soon as that feeling sunk in, I was ripped up like a weed and replanted someplace else.

I guess it's a good thing if you and your family don't get along, but everything was peachy with mine... sigh.

My new family are super sweet to me. I have the type of mum that hugs me when I'm going to bed, and the type of dad that will help me with anything (like when I was freaking out about my Northside tickets that were lost in the mail). I have two sisters, an older and a younger, and a younger brother. It's like having a dynamic of my old family combined with the dynamic of my real family. Of course, this is just a parallel drawn to make some familiarity in the situation. I ride to school now, and the luxury of having the bike is just awesome. Not to mention the temperature's rising... time for shorts! (still gotta have at least a light jacket on though)

Anyway onto my biggest news:
EUROTOUR!
In three days, I will be bussin' it around Europe for 18 days with 50 or so other exchange students! Look out Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Lido di Jesolo, Venice, Verona, San Remo, Monaco, Avignon, Paris, Bruxelles, Amsterdam and Hamburg!!

I promise to blog about it! It'll be huge, and it'll take forever, but I'LL DO IT!
I'm to excited to think right now!

Vi ses senere!

Georgia :D  

Denmark: the land of the unfunny Vikings.

Georgia here, reporting for duty.
Notice anything different? No?
Well why the hell not? Can't you see the new signs of elderlyness and maturity? The new wardrobe and the extra kilos from excess lagkage consumption?

Well if its not obvious enough now, you may remember in my last post I may have mentioned it was my birthday in a few hours. 

As Danish tradition dictates, I was awoken by my family who came into my room singing the Danish birthday song, which sounds nothing like the global 'happy birthday to you'.
It sounds a little something like this:
(This is lovely video about a bus driver who gets a little surprise)

So imagine this: you are sleeping - a wonderful dream filled with cascading images of vegemite and milo. The sound of the danish birthday song slowly seeps into your kaleidoscope of Aussie treats and suddenly you are aware you are not alone. Oh- you realise the date. Slowly you crack open your eyes, and are confronted with the image of three people, smiley, sleepy looking people, who are leaning over you and waving Danish flags in your face. It's a sort of ugh/not ugh situation.

This happens every year on your birthday in Denmark. The danes are nothing if not traditional! 

I turned 17!
Here's a photo of me revelling in my festivities
(aww, Georgia aren't you cute?) Yes. Yes I am.

So as the 17 years/149,019 hours/6,209 days settle upon my shoulders,  I look out the window and with my new found maturity...

Giggle at this sign.

Yes, it really says 'fart'. The word is everywhere!

A town in Fyn:

My favourite- the lift in Central Station Copenhagen:

And a coachline I would not like to be on!

Hehehehehe! Denmark is seriously one of the funniest sounding languages there is. Also, impossible to understand for people who are not very used to hearing it. 

Big Scandinavian brothers Sweden and Norway are always teasing the Danes about it.
Here is a Norwegian video teasing the Danes about their language:
(It's in English, chill out)

Some other funny Danish words I have come across:

Slut: finish/exit
Slutspurt: clearance sale
Fartpilot: cruise control
Bådfart: boat speed


Hehehe!
I will never be mature, that is certain.

Just touching base to update you with my very serious exchange of seriousness.

Until next time,
Vi ses,
Georgia

Snowdate (Part 2!)

So, blogspot's a son of a *bleep* and wouldn't let me post my excellent photos of the remainder of the time that I have had between Lalandia and here. So, without further ado, here is Snowdate part two/dos/due/deux!

Now, being trapped by the very unseasonal snow here doesn't mean I can't have fun!

I had my first day of snefri (literally snow free), which is when it is too snowy to go to school. Well, actually, a half snefri, but it was good all the same! We sat inside and had a real hygge (cozy) time watching Once Upon a Time with Dansk subtitles....

I can't express the joy her facial expression brings me...

I made my first snow angel!

Aaaand We built a snowman! His name is Esmereldo and he's still standing! (because the snow hasn't frigging stopped)

Our homie Esmereldo <3

We're also dating. Oops! I broke a D!

I played with my doggy Sofus and my kitty Maggie in the snow....

Snuggles with the sweetest cat in the universe...

He only loves me because I play a mean game of fetch...

I also owned (lost) at a snowball fight with my host family but no one was there to take pictures because we were all covered in snow, hehehe. 

What isn't so cool is the roads. They're really hard to drive on, which makes it terrifying being in a car with summer tyres and without power steering, being driven by a 19-year-old girl in a hurry. It takes a lot of courage to drive in these gross conditions, so hats off to her. 

If you're reading this, I trust you, Jose ;)

I know this is short and sweet, and besides, it was only going to be the tail end of part one. Also, it's my birthday in Australia, and nearly my birthday here, so you can't get mad. HA!

Until next time,
Vi ses,
Georgia, or dkfgdkgsdgjf as they say in Danish ;)

Snowdate

Planet Denmark is being a little beyotch lately.

Here we are, early March, and Spring is in the air. The snow is gone, the temperature is hovering around 5 degrees and the early spring blooms can be found littering the ground with their little yellow and white flowers. This Aussie is happy. She can feel the Spring sun on her face when she goes outside and is looking forward to when she doesn't have to wear a parka to check the letterbox.

That is, until the 10th.

We woke up, on my host father's birthday, to this.

As annoying as a younger brother, but pretty as a postcard.

What the eff is this?! IT IS MARCH. Australia's getting it's annual cyclone hammering, and I'm waiting with baited breath for just a little heat. I thought my patience had paid off, but no. BUT NO. It didn't stop. Here we are, 10 days later with a goddamn mini blizzard!

I blame Siberia and Sweden. We don't want yo' sno'.

Anyway, on with the post.

SO! Last time I posted on this blog (nearly a month ago, sorrrrryyyyyyy), I was about to leave for Lalandia with my fellow exchange students.
Instead of commuting over hill and over dale to drag my lifeless body into a wild pit of lions in green and black blazers (sorry that was graphic), I just hopped into the car for half an hour after a nice long sleep-in. No 5:30am start for me! Muahaha.
So I arrived in Lalandia, Lalandia, lalalalala Lalandia-a... you can see the repetitive commercial here... (you'll have to copy and paste it into your URL browser)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGLxUcUcfUc

With an unknown 3 hours to spare. There were only 3 other students there out of 200, and all were from the USA. So I made some friends :)

Anyway, once all had arrived, we grabbed our bags and headed off to our rooms - which ended up being a good 20 minute walk away. This was probably the most annoying part of the Get2Gether, seeing as I was in the cabin at the very back of the complex. That put me about a kilometre away from freakin' everything.

Calm. Relax. Breathe.

Anyway, I met my roomies, who were all oldies except for little old me! Now, I must explain the Oldie/Newbie shebang that exists in exchange organizations. You see, we have two teams- Winter and a Summer. I am in in the Winter team, seeing as I arrived in Winter and I will leave in Winter. That makes me a Newbie. These Oldies had been here between 6-8 months, so they were all excited to meet me and get my badges, because, as they said: "You're a newbie!! You still have money, a tan, and good badges!"
Well, I DID have good badges. They cleaned me out, goddamn it. On the upside, I now have an abundance of metal and plastic objects covering my own blazer:

Not bad for a Newbie...

We were supposed to be only 8, which would leave a bed for everyone, but some Mexican girl (grr) decided to invite two friends, and so did this other Argentinian girl. So we had people sleeping here, there, and everywhere. That was no problem, I got a bed. But you try to get 12 girls ready for the day in one tiny bathroom! I took to waking up at 6 so I could shower before all the hot water was gone. GRR!
They also gave us a set amount of food to last us for two days of breakfast. fine for 8 girls. For 12 exchange student girls?! I don't think so. Needless to say, we left the house hungry and tired, after cold showers on the morning of the third day. 
But that didn't retract from an awesome weekend!

Now, no matter where you're from, if you're an exchange student in Denmark, you speak mostly English. So, all of our meetings were spoken in English. Now I know what you're thinking - why not Danish?? Well let me just express to you how freakin' difficult Danish is. It's up there with the most difficult languages. 4 years, they told me. 4 FREAKING YEARS TO LEARN IT PROPERLY. And my Danish lessons have just stopped until mid-July. I really need those!
So, that's why we had our meetings in English. Because no one would understand ;)

Anyway, the activities of Lalandia are endless. Where else can you spend time at the Waterpark in the morning, ice skate in the afternoon, bowl before dinner, fake ski, rock climb, use trick trampolines, let the kids go wild in a giant maze of fun and then get a choice of a wide selection of restaurants?!
Lalandia.
Every European family should come here in winter. It's a corner of Awesomeness and Bombdiggity.

I also met my twin! Well, my older, Colombian twin. Close enough.

Were we separated at birth, Mamma?

One of the things you learn to perfect is your ability to photobomb. What is photobombing, you ask? well see these examples:

A cute photo with our Danish teacher? I think not...

One does not simply 'take a selfie' without being photobombed...

Finally my turn! Jonty and I in the photobomb game...

So after a weekend of new friends, fun and the first time wearing a bikini in two months, we parted ways, photobombed and badged out. 

And this ties into the beginning of this blog, early march with Spring in the air... nope. Whatup continuity! 

So, as I update this blog, it is the end of march, specifically two hours before my birthday (!!!!!) aaand the snow hasn't stopped. But the snow doesn't come without fun!

(Blogspot isn't letting me attach any more photos so I'm splitting this in half)

Intro Dansk 2013

"Where have you been!"
My conscience, which sounds a little bit more like Molly Weasley every day, shrieks inside my brain when I access this blog. 
I know, I said I'd update like 3 weeks ago. 

Unskyld, jeg kommer for sent.

See that? That was some legit Danish! Boom! That's the answer, Molly Weasley!
Ladies, Gents, and Ruffy, I introduce the more-improved-at-Danish-now-but-still-really-nervous-about-using-it-because-people-laugh-at-my-accent-Georgia. She is the result of a week of intense Danish training myself and about 45 other exchange students went through in the beginning of February. 

A few Sundays ago, I woke up at a time that isn't acknowledged by my body clock, and drove an hour to the nearest city to jump on a train. Two trains, 7 hours and pretty much the entire landmass of Denmark later, I finally arrived Randers, to catch bus to the place in which I would undertake willing brain torture. 

We were greeted by this... monstrous thing...

What is it?

Anyway, after gawking at that, and being introduced to our teachers, it was full steam ahead with the Danish lessons. Our teachers were all young, fun, and generally made it really easy to learn the language (Shout out to my teacher Vibe). I really enjoyed being in a room with people who understood exactly what we were all going through and the ability to share stories was thoroughly enjoyed. Helping us learn were two Norwegian guys... who were very, VERY enthusiastic about the Danish/Norwegian vowels. 

Their brainchild eventually became the theme song of IntroCamp 2013: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f488uJAQgmw 
Seriously. Hit that link.

Our Danish class! 

During our stay we were given the privilege of being entertained by two awesome bands, (one of which I bought their album, and they took a photo with me!)

Squeeeeeeee!
Fair Enough, Martian! 

The Gang! (Size Matters)

We worked hard all week and had a fantastic time bonding. Thursday saw us in Aarhus being treated to a day of roaming around the city and indulging in some much-needed retail therapy. 

The shopping street in Aarhus.

Which, would be fine, if my card decided to be normal and accept the pin that it had been assigned.
But sometimes, life decides to give the Dane behind the counter at H&M even more reason to judge you more than she already was.

I HAVE MONEY! IT'S JUST INVISIBLE! 

My beautiful friends consoled me by taking me out for a very fattening crepe, and our favourite drink, FAXE KONDI! :D

We are the official unofficial Faxe Kondi reps.

The size of my ass is steadily growing but god, it's worth it.

Anyway, Sunday saw us depart from our dear new friends. It was merely a goodbye for now -  we all pinky promised to come visit. This weekend, we're all meeting up- this time on my side of Denmark for a Get-2-Gether with all the other exchange students in Denmark. Exciting stuff!

Sunday also saw me on a train, bound for Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen.

The capital of Denmark was a great experience. I was whirled around the city by my family, getting a look at about six or seven tour-worthy sites and of course, lunch. Amongst our sites were: Danish Secret Service, the changing of the guard at Amalienborg, Christiansborg, Langelinie, the Little Mermaid (Den Lille Havfrue) and many, many statues. Copenhagen is full of 'em. They're all this turquoisey colour. Gotta love it. But it was a kinda 'seen that! Seen that! Seen that! Ok let's go!' type of tour. I enjoyed seeing so much of the history, but I'm looking forward to the day where I can just stroll around and take it all in.

This is what happens when a cold Aussie is in a schmancy Copenhagen restaurant.

Speaking of lunch; I can't fit a whole lot in my stomach. It's a fact of my life. But Danish custom dictates that I must eat everything on my plate.
How the eff am I supposed to be able to do that when every plate I get is the diameter of a freakin' pizza box!? HOW!?
And yet, the Danes strut around in their tall, chiselled glory after their colossal meals as I lie on my stomach and whimper. This is the absolute height of unfairness.
And so, my ass grows at a steady rate. I can feel the extra distance between my bones and the outside world and I am terrified. I hope I can talk my club into paying for my gym membership.  

They'll pay it. 
They love me.

So!
After a day's reprieve back home to recharge batteries, we were off again! This time, by car. We covered almost all of Denmark in one day. 3 cities. 3 islands and 3 hours on the mainland.
This country is really freakin' tiny. Fun fact of the day: Denmark can fit 207 times into Australia. 

Excuse my paint skills. For your convenience.

Anyway, so after a ferry and a couple of road hours, we found ourselves in...
Odense: "O-en-se".
Odense was a city that was definitely clinging to the past. Their past, it seems, was its best asset. It came in the form of the lanky, awkward, world-famous author Hans Christian Andersen. In his museum (which was our only stop) you could be all personal and touchy-feely. The museum is built next to his childhood home. I for one, jumped in his bed, pretended to eat at his dinner table, and made conversation with his statue. It was quite thrilling. As you can probably tell, I like to live dangerously. All stupidity aside, it was actually a wonderful museum. His diaries, clothes, letters and possessions are on dispay there, along with what seemed like a copy of every translation of every book he's written. FYI- he's been translated into 150 languages. That makes him the most translated author of all time. I'm talking Siberian and Cherokee and Swahili here. 

But of course, my favourite part was imitating him as a statue.

Spot the difference

Over another bridge and onto the mainland, we were very quickly in Aarhus.

Aarhus: "Aar-hus"
Back in Aarhus for the second time in a week. I get places, lemme tell ya.
We arrived in the second largest city in Denmark just as the sun was saying "Yo, I'm gonna go say hi to your family, G."
Again, we stopped only once. This time it was the internationally-famous ARoS Art Gallery. I'm slipping into an alter-ego here, but this place is freaking dope! 
I got to see Andy Warhol's original Mazza Munroe, the giant scary-as-all-hell Boy statue, and a couple of other things that freaked me out. I made my mother very jealous.
Checkmate, sucka.
(She dragged us around Manhattan when I was 12 and made us go to about 45 different museums in two weeks. We wanted to play in the snow. I didn't appreciate it. Now, I gloat.)
However I think the most awesome of all of ARos was its rainbow panorama on top of the building. Now, I have a height phobia, so this wasn't easy for me, but the views we got made it so worth it.

Le view of le church through le panorama.

It was très cools.

So, as night was truly upon us, we left the big city and began our final leg onto Frederickshavn.

Frederickshavn: "Fle-ller-icks-haun" (bloody impossible to say.)

We got to Frederickshavn and I was absolutely starving. Well, I'm an exchange student. I'm always hungry. It's part of the parcel. 
But here's evil Denmark, saying, "Oh, have another potato. Lashings of brunsovs. Oooh look, a Fledeboller! Now try these chips, they're called Kim's and they're better than anything ever! Mmm, meat. Now cheese. Oooh let's fry it in butter!"
Needless to say, I feel extreme anger with myself whenever I look in the mirror.

But to my happiness, we went to an Asian restaurant. God, I love Asian food. It's delicious and relatively guilt-free. But, once again, we were given the gigantic portions. My host father ate his and then finished the rest of mine (three quarters remained and I was guiltily full)
Then it was off to bed. Finally.

Now, I need to describe this hotel they brought me to. It's called The Reef. It is 100% attempting to recreate a tropical environment, complete with indoor tropical beach/pool. It's minus degrees outside, and they've used coconut décor. I was in a constant giggle fit. They can't do this! It's silly! I'm from the reef! This is Scandinavia for Christ's sake!

We took a small trip up to the top of Denmark and I stood where the North Sea and the Baltic Sea meet. The most interesting thing about that, though, was seeing snow on the beach. Not something I've ever seen. I'd also never been that cold at the beach before. In hindsight  that was pretty disconcerting.

Anyway, we made our way home and now I've procrastinated this for three weeks. Oh well, I've done it now. Tomorrow I'm going crazy with a tonne of other students and shall report back soon. Hopefully, It'll be on time!
(that was my Molly Weasely conscience, swatting me with a rolled-up newspaper.)

Until Next time,
Vi Ses,
Georgia

Impressions.

To be fair, I've been here just over a week. Danish friends, you know that this is not personal/directed at you in any way. Hopefully you'll find it funny. If not, go have a Tuborg and a frikadeller and get over it.

These are my impressions of Denmark:

1. Black is most certainly the new black.

If you are a Dane, you must NEVER wear ANY colour. Seriously, it's like funeral central 24/7 around here. I wear my red jeans and get stared at - and not in a good way. Black is the past, present, and future to the Danish people. Why wear colour, when you can wear black?
Personally, I don't get it.
Colours are happy; colours show personality. Why, when the Danes are such warm, friendly people, should they wear black all the time?
"It goes with everything!" My host sisters shall cry. Yes, I think to myself, especially black.

 

Look! A Dane!

But I refuse to cave. I went to H&M and completely avoided the black clothes (which took up about half the shop). I will have my red jeans and I will wear them too! Eff you, black rule!

But let me assure you, this is not handy in my assimilation into Danish society (well, the society at Nakskov Gymnasium). Being the only Aussie in the school with the reddest of red jeans does not help with my current zoo-animal status. I am easy prey for the local wildlife (students & teachers), who see my colourful attire and pounce.
So many people (SO MANY) have approached me at the most inopportune times to bombard me with questions. Here are the most common examples:

"Oh, you're from Australia, right?! Can you please say Dingo?!" (or koala or kangaroo or g'day or mate or something equally as embarrassing).

"Oh. My. God. You're from Australia... DO YOU KNOW CODY SIMPSON??????????? I LOVE HIM!!!"
Uh, he lives on the Gold Coast. That's pretty far away.

"Sorry, are you really from Australia? I thought Australians were tanner than that."
At this point, I look down at my forearm. I'm of Mediterranean descent. I come from the sunniest place on the planet. What more do you want? An aborigine? Cue eyeroll.

"Have you ever seen a real kangaroo?" 
Again with the eyeroll.

And the numero uno most asked question:
"Why the hell did you pick Denmark?"
...
Sigh.

   2. Did someone say Grand Theft Auto? Oh, no, it's just a Danish driver.

Now, It may be -6 and snowing outside, but I assure you, there are people out on bikes. Everywhere in Denmark. Rain, hail, snow or shine, there are people on their bikes. Because of this bike culture, and the lack of designated zones in Nakskov, the cars don't really have right of way. So we have this immense weaving action happening. Forget the slipperiness of the road. There are are bigger issues at hand. Namely, the Dane on the bike with the Fjällräven backpack. Hold onto your Carlsberg, because these little Danish cars are weave machines. And the Viking at the wheel is well equipped with skill, experience, and a BAC of .08. You're in safe hands.

Who has right of way? I don't even know...

    3. Keyboard Smash...Sorry, Danish.

This is a language which involves more larynx gymnastics than I have ever encountered. Heck, even the tribes in Africa with the click language would have a hard time. But Danish is a language I MUST learn, and I am determined to do so. My chief teacher is my lovely host sister Juliane (wooh you got a mention). It is thanks to her that I now know all the colours, and I can describe my feelings (hungry, hungry... and hungry). But do not ask me to say red. IT. IS. IMPOSSIBLE.

But as I sit here in English class, I am reminded of the fact that most of the people here can speak at least basic English, or in the case of the English teacher, perfectly accented British English (and she's a native Dane!)
My Danish, on the other hand, sucks. So yeah, that makes me pretty unhappy with myself. But it's a driving point for me to continue trying my best when it comes to learning Danish. This Thursday, I start my first real Danish lessons in Maribo, about an hour's drive from Nakskov. Next weekend, I am in Bjerringbro in North Jutland for a whole week of into/language camp. These are my doors into the world of the secret language that is Danish.

   4. School

I just- brain does not compute.

I can't even begin to explain this succinctly. In fact, it deserves a whole post to itself.

So next time, it's all about school. That is, if I can fit it in before I go to Bjerringbro. I have a busy week coming up. I move from my counsellor family to my first host family on Wednesday (it is Monday). Then, this weekend, I am off to Bjerringbro. Then my winter holiday begins and I'm back in North Jutland with my host family to see the sights. Then, back to school again. So, it's all up in the air.

Until next time, 
Vi ses,
Georgia

Planet Denmark

So I've done it. I've gone and ditched my family, friends, and whole life to fulfil my dream of spending an extended period of time in a foreign land. The land in question, dear friends, is Denmark.
Rotary International, well done. You have done such an amazing job so far, and I take my hat off to you.

Now on with the story.

Denmark, the teeniest country in Scandinavia, is often lovingly referred to as 'the armpit of Europe'. It is home to just over 5.5 million Danes, or as they would like to be called, 'Vikings', who enjoy lashings of pork over ryebread. Don't ask.

I have now landed in Denmark after a 36 hour journey and I have to say, it's a whole new world. It shall henceforth be known as 'Planet Denmark'.
Planet Denmark, as I have said, is home to the species homo vikingus,  a rare breed of human that enjoys living in the extreme cold, playing incredibly violent sports such as the likes of Handball, sorry, Håndbold, and are proud to claim that they have successfully replaced their bloodstreams with several alcoholic beverages, namely Carlsberg and Tuborg.

I have willingly and happily been thrust into this new society and it is with happiness that I say that I love it. I was scooped up by the big birds at Rotary International and told this would be my new home for the next year. My journey was rather uneventful compared to most, consisting of varying bouts of heat and cold, from dying of exhaustion in Bangkok and having a lovely nap in (or should I say over) Russia.

I'm here, and that's the short and short of it. I've been here for just 6 days, but it feels like so much more. More like a month. I'm with my darling counsellors now, but soon I will move to be with my first host family. Everyone I've met so far are just incredibly lovely. I'm finding it very difficult to express just how lucky I feel when I think about their kindness.

Anyway, this is just to touch base. I'll have a better post next time.

Coming up: My first impressions of Planet Denmark

Vi ses,

Georgia