Kopenhavn VIII: Feast

We woke up the next day late. This was a pattern that we had repeated for much of the trip: going to be early and sleeping in.

It wasn’t so much jet lag in that we were shifted in schedule, we were just exhausted all the time.

If figured that this was because we had been doing so much in San Diego that when we finally had a chance to not go to work and sleep in, our bodies took it.

I would have thought that I’d be so excited to be in Europe, but perhaps it’s because I’m older or perhaps Kopenhavn is just a really relaxing city. Who knows…

We tried to call Cecilia to no avail.

We rushed to get ready and went outside.

She was waiting outside.

Even saying “waiting” belittles what I saw.

If I hadn’t known her, she could have been waiting or she could have chosen to pose, next to her bicycle behind our building next to the brick wall because she was in a photo shoot. She could have just decided to stand there and smoke.

She looked so calm and happy as if standing there was the most natural thing in the world as if she could stand there, happily all day until she rode home or perhaps to a local pub.

Of course, by “happy”, I didn’t mean grinning or laughing, but merely a calm contentment.

She did smile when we got there then she apologized as she was sleeping late, too.

Was the entire city under some kind of sleeping spell?

We took another glorious walk to her apartment where they served us a large and continuously coming breakfast.

The dishes were too many to recount and too many to consume.

However, I did remember getting pickled herring in both curried and non-curried kind on rye bread. There was also salmon, but this time on a different kind of rye with some kind of special spread.

The rule was that all the dishes had be assembled just so and eaten in the proper order.

I’m usually not a slave to rules, but for some reason I felt it was important to stick to the script.

Of course, the food was delicious. The Danish diet was made just for me, I believe.


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