![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
And attack that nightlife I did.
As you might expect, I went to a goth club on Saturday night. The scene here is much smaller than in Seattle, probably about a third the size. They don't have a dedicated club, let alone two or three. But they do have a goth night at least once a week, sometimes more often.
I happened to be there on a night when a band was playing -- Psyche, a Canadian band, amusingly enough. They were a suprisingly good EBM band, far more musically complex than most EBM. I liked 'em.
After Psyche finished their set, though, was when things got interesting. People actually came up and introduced themselves to me, rather than huddling in little cliqueish corners and sneering like they do back home. Very friendly, very sociable. Also much, much better dressed than your average Seattle goth, especially the ladies. People made an *effort*, and no one was dressed alike. I got a lot of compliments on my long velvet coat.
I was willing to drink Danish beer, stand my round of drinks, and bitch about George Bush, so I found myself at the center of attention for most of the evening. I went home with ten phone numbers and a dinner date for the next evening... who stood me up, unfortunately, but, eh well. It was quite a pleasant evening, and I finally went home at about 6 AM.
One word of warning: In all the establishments I have been to since I reached Denmark, the booze was overwhelmingly dilute. We are talking 'I can't tell if this is vodka or water' dilute. Don't bother with hard liquour unless you buy a bottle in a store, or a full bottle at a bar. Stick to the beer, which, while not dark, is still pretty good. And you can get Smirnoff Ice and that sort of thing, too.
Cloves are not sold anywhere in Denmark. The nearest you can get them is Germany. This also made me very, very popular.
Anyway, I set off home as the club finally closed up (serving all night! And you can drink it on the street!) and got back to where I was staying.
There's something about midnight in an ancient European city that makes you feel like you're in a White Wolf vampire game. It's neat.
That day, I slept a lot. I wandered through the city alone, for a while, admiring the canals and bridges in the cold grey afternoon light.
A few more notes on the little differences:
In Denmark, 'up' is the off position for light switches.
Many of the floors are stone or tile, but they are warmed from beneath by electric coils, making them far more pleasant than wood floors.
When they give you a hotdog, they don't cut the bun in half. Instead they use a pointed tube to hollow out the bun, fill it with saunce, and then stick the hot dog in it. It's much less messy, and the hotdog is likely to be made with mostly real pork. Very tasty.
Jesus, the way these people eat. I would weigh six hundred pounds inside of a year. But they bike everywhere, and walk everywhere else, so I guess that's probably what keeps them so thin. That and the cold raises the metabolism to keep you warm... and it is very, very cold here. Approximately Alaska-ish, climatewise.
Yesterday I left Køobenhavn, much to my sadness, and caught a train to the town in which my mother was born, Vejle. The words 'quaint' and 'bucolic' come to mind. The town is about the size of Bellingham, but of course much prettier. The train ride over was absolutely gorgeous, passing through forest and well-kept farmland, as well as over a 20-kilometer bridge that took us from the island on which København lies to Jutland, the region of Denmark that is on the mainland. I love traveling by train. Not only is it very comfortable, scenic and relaxing, but it's efficient and more environmentally friendly, too. I could ride the Danish trains all day, just listening to music and staring out the window, watching the world go by.
Still listening to lots of Underworld. They have the rhythm of trains down perfect.
I am attending many, many family functions during my time here, and everyone else speaks Danish, so I'm going to be kind of bored, sitting in the parlor while little old ladies speak a language I don't know. I'm doing my best to pick it up, but I don't have enough of a basic knowledge of the language to start off from, and no one can really take the time to help me.
I'll be in Vejle until the 21st. There's not much to do here, but I expect I'll find ways to entertain myself. Hoping to persuade Claus, the relative I'm staying with while I'm here, that he wants to go to the pub tonight. He's thirty and outgoing, so I don't expect that to be a problem.
Good times. I'm still having more fun than any of you. :)
As you might expect, I went to a goth club on Saturday night. The scene here is much smaller than in Seattle, probably about a third the size. They don't have a dedicated club, let alone two or three. But they do have a goth night at least once a week, sometimes more often.
I happened to be there on a night when a band was playing -- Psyche, a Canadian band, amusingly enough. They were a suprisingly good EBM band, far more musically complex than most EBM. I liked 'em.
After Psyche finished their set, though, was when things got interesting. People actually came up and introduced themselves to me, rather than huddling in little cliqueish corners and sneering like they do back home. Very friendly, very sociable. Also much, much better dressed than your average Seattle goth, especially the ladies. People made an *effort*, and no one was dressed alike. I got a lot of compliments on my long velvet coat.
I was willing to drink Danish beer, stand my round of drinks, and bitch about George Bush, so I found myself at the center of attention for most of the evening. I went home with ten phone numbers and a dinner date for the next evening... who stood me up, unfortunately, but, eh well. It was quite a pleasant evening, and I finally went home at about 6 AM.
One word of warning: In all the establishments I have been to since I reached Denmark, the booze was overwhelmingly dilute. We are talking 'I can't tell if this is vodka or water' dilute. Don't bother with hard liquour unless you buy a bottle in a store, or a full bottle at a bar. Stick to the beer, which, while not dark, is still pretty good. And you can get Smirnoff Ice and that sort of thing, too.
Cloves are not sold anywhere in Denmark. The nearest you can get them is Germany. This also made me very, very popular.
Anyway, I set off home as the club finally closed up (serving all night! And you can drink it on the street!) and got back to where I was staying.
There's something about midnight in an ancient European city that makes you feel like you're in a White Wolf vampire game. It's neat.
That day, I slept a lot. I wandered through the city alone, for a while, admiring the canals and bridges in the cold grey afternoon light.
A few more notes on the little differences:
In Denmark, 'up' is the off position for light switches.
Many of the floors are stone or tile, but they are warmed from beneath by electric coils, making them far more pleasant than wood floors.
When they give you a hotdog, they don't cut the bun in half. Instead they use a pointed tube to hollow out the bun, fill it with saunce, and then stick the hot dog in it. It's much less messy, and the hotdog is likely to be made with mostly real pork. Very tasty.
Jesus, the way these people eat. I would weigh six hundred pounds inside of a year. But they bike everywhere, and walk everywhere else, so I guess that's probably what keeps them so thin. That and the cold raises the metabolism to keep you warm... and it is very, very cold here. Approximately Alaska-ish, climatewise.
Yesterday I left Køobenhavn, much to my sadness, and caught a train to the town in which my mother was born, Vejle. The words 'quaint' and 'bucolic' come to mind. The town is about the size of Bellingham, but of course much prettier. The train ride over was absolutely gorgeous, passing through forest and well-kept farmland, as well as over a 20-kilometer bridge that took us from the island on which København lies to Jutland, the region of Denmark that is on the mainland. I love traveling by train. Not only is it very comfortable, scenic and relaxing, but it's efficient and more environmentally friendly, too. I could ride the Danish trains all day, just listening to music and staring out the window, watching the world go by.
Still listening to lots of Underworld. They have the rhythm of trains down perfect.
I am attending many, many family functions during my time here, and everyone else speaks Danish, so I'm going to be kind of bored, sitting in the parlor while little old ladies speak a language I don't know. I'm doing my best to pick it up, but I don't have enough of a basic knowledge of the language to start off from, and no one can really take the time to help me.
I'll be in Vejle until the 21st. There's not much to do here, but I expect I'll find ways to entertain myself. Hoping to persuade Claus, the relative I'm staying with while I'm here, that he wants to go to the pub tonight. He's thirty and outgoing, so I don't expect that to be a problem.
Good times. I'm still having more fun than any of you. :)