On my route south and eastward, Copenhagen was the only town where I had planned to pass the least amount of time. But this supposedly short stay, turned into a longer one and the only one to blame was Carlsberg!
I took a bus out of Malmo at 18:00 hours and just about 50 minutes later I was already in Copenhagen. Although Oresund is no longer the longest cross channel bridge, but still every time I cross over this bridge I can’t help wondering about the engineering marvel that this bridge is.
As I had very short stay in Copenhagen I had decided to not go anywhere in town and just roam around in the downtown area checking out those souvenir shops and occasional street performers in the Radhuspladsen (City Hall Square).
And I had made a commitment to myself that I would not have a beer before getting to Berlin. But roaming around in Copenhagen’s downtown district, looking at all those billboards, light boxes and signboards advertising Carlsberg, I could not resist. I didn’t want to get to the state, where every beautiful girl would start looking like a gorgeous glass of Carlsberg. So I finally gave into seduction and went to the Scottish Pub on H. C. Andersens Boulevard.
Oh pleasure, pleasure, what a killer you are! The seductively arousing effect of the golden nectar, soon murdered all of my resolve and another strong commitment that I had made to myself, that I would not drink more than a couple of half litres, also flushed out of my system.
The pub was not very crowded as it was still very early Friday evening. A whiskey supported performer was delivering live music and his songs ganged up with the beer to make me lose track of time.
Time, the most uncontrollable parameter, only seems to stop in the fairy tales. And yes sitting in a pub on Hans Christian Andersen’s boulevard, one cannot help thinking about the fairy tales. I also wanted to have the luxury of living out my fairy tales. Roaming in the fields of my imagination and sowing the seeds of hope. Because one thing unavailable in this technologically advanced world is “hope”. The individual has been suppressed so hardly by the gigantic entities that escape seems impossible. The suppression is so strong that even hope has died out.
But hey, as they say in Russian: “Надежда умерает последней (hope never dies)”. So all that needs be done is to sow some seeds of hope and it will spring. Oh, crap, in my fantasies, I had escaped reality completely. I had to take the next bus out to Berlin and when I came out of my fairy tale, the whiskey propelled guy was still singing and a lot more people were sitting all around me.
I checked the time and it was just 10 minutes before the bus’ departure time. I gulped down the remaining Carlsberg and picking up my small backpack made my way out of the evil establishment and thought that I would make it to the bus stop in less than 10 minutes and would board the bus.
Realistically speaking, it was possible, but only for Carl Lewis or Ben Johnson. But an ample quantity of señora cerveza in my blood stream, made me believe that I could outrun time.So when I finally reached the bus stop, the bus, for which I had the ticket, had just left. Believe me that ‘just’ did not help me a lot. Now I had to decide and goodness me, how hard it is to decide, when reality and desire are pulling you apart. Now that I had missed the bus, I could easily stay in town and enjoy the Friday night fun. But on the other hand if I would not get to Berlin the next morning, the whole of the remaining plan would go down the drain.So a couple of cigarettes later, I finally decided to check if there were any more buses that evening from Copenhagen to Berlin. And coming to know that there was another bus some 3 hours later, I decided to leave this seductive town. But 3 hours was a long time to sit around. So I returned to the merrymaking district of Copenhagen and drowned my sorrow in a few more glasses of Carlsberg.