Homecoming
The flight was short, without any delay, as if the previous day’s chaos had been a dream. Soon, the patchwork quilt of the English countryside was replaced by the more regular geometric shapes of Danish fields as we descended through the clouds.
It is a peculiar feeling to return to a country which you have lived in once, and where you speak the language (OK, speak is maybe an exagerration). I had been looking forward to Danish books, salty liquorice and even sandwiches with remoulade and pink salami, but I was surprised when even the airport signs made me break out in a wide grin.
The previous day’s security alerts had cost me my stay in Copenhagen and I had about four hours to wait in the airport. I stepped through the door expectantly.
When I lived there, I never flew to Copenhagen. Regular trains run from Germany and, back then, were the cheapest way to travel to Denmark.
Despite the optimistically named ‘Arkaden’, it turns out that there was little to do in the airport. The shopping mall contained a seven-eleven, a clothes store which could not stand up to a comparision with the average Oxfam back home and little else. No bookshop. However, the 7-11 had a selection of cheap paperbacks. Surprisingly, most were in English, but I did manage to pick up a Danish translation of Dean Koontz’ ‘Hideaway’ (‘D�dens Museum’—I always thought the Danes were better at titles). It cost little more than the price for a newspaper which was good, because I had quite enough of the papers for a while.
The chilled Tuborg in half-litre cans was also good. I settled in for a relaxed break, waiting for the flight to Kangerlussuaq.
Tags: Greenland, Tag Index
Denni