29 January 2006

The Bike Ride.

I'm not sure how many people outside of Denmark know this, but there are more bikes in the country than actual citizens. At least it seems that way, and such a statistic is rumored to be true.

Per and Hans (pronounced like cans, except very quickly) took me on my first ride around the city this afternoon. Now, the first thing you should realize is that when I say "bike around the city," I don't just mean through a park. We did have a nice ride through the old citadel--along snow covered ridges and across cobblestone alleys. But we also rode along the major streets in Copenhagen. Thankfully, bikes don't compete with traffice all the time. They have their own lanes, traffic signals, and rules. That is no doubt convenient, but it is certainly still a tad bit stressful worrying about where the next car is.

We tackled the streets first off. But after a wild ride through some surface streets, we decided that it might be a good idea to ride through a park, which lead to a ride through the harbor and a visit to a museum. The museums galleries were filled with plaster reproductions of Classical, Byzantine and Renessaince sculptures. They were stunnning. What really grabbed my attention, though, were the eyes. They all seemed to be either hollow or full of emotion. It was fascinating to see how sculptors seemed to leave the eyes without character because they knew they could not convey the emotion they wanted the piece to have behind its eyes.

After an hour or so in the museum, we made our way to the main shopping street and the darling Cafe' Europa. After another cafe' complete with Billie Holiday, and a quick sidetrip to grocery store, I found myself back at the apartment with a delicious meal in front of me. I made the cheese plates this time. I'm just that talented.

It was a wonderful afternoon of roaming the city, and beginning to really feel like I belong here.

So my ass hurts everytime I sit down, stand up, or walk around. I think it's worth it.

But check with me in the morning.


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