Tired on the late arrival, I dragged my bags up the stairs to my friend’s place. Any slight obstacle would probably have made me burst into tears in a millisecond. But instead a bed was made for me, a towel waiting on the pillow and I got woken up the next morning by the beautiful words, which I don’t hear too often: "Breakfast is ready."
About a month ago, my temporary rock star life came to an end, at least for a while, but not for too long I hope. Back to Denmark and to my belongings packed away in boxes. Back to early closing hours of supermarkets and hospitality challenges in shops and restaurants. But also back to canoe polo, proper coffee and most of all, back to friends and the best season of the year. Sure, Rio might have its sun, beaches and Caipis on the waterfront. And packing away socks and long sleeves for months is also nice. But nothing beats the Scandinavian spring!
That first day back in Copenhagen threw me right in there. If there’s such a thing as a spring chock, or ultimate spring day – that was it. All thanks to one of my friends. After sorting out keys for my temporary casa, clothes for the next couple of months and breakfast for the empty fridge – can’t expect such great treats as served breakfast every morning – the afternoon and evening was spent with the most springy activity you can possibly imagine – waxing a sailboat! Aahh! Never thought I was so going to enjoy having lactate acid in my arms, while being too hot with my jacket on and too cold if I took it off, that much. Burger and beer at the harbour café once the boat was shining in the evening sun didn’t make the day worse either. Thanks for the great first 24 hrs back in Scandinavia Henrik, just what I needed.
During the following couple of weeks, I was on a total spring optimisation mission. First BBQ of the year on a balcony in Stockholm, chilly of course, but the burger and Nomad company couldn’t have been better.
Canoe polo on a canal on a sunny Saturday morning, followed by a caffè latte in the sun by another canal in the Danish capital. Half a day wondering around on a muddy grass field in gum boots, parka and beanie at summer house-to-be location. Another half a day with Italian food and wine outside for lunch and drowsing off, wrapped in a blanket in the sun on Kongens Nytorv, afterwards. More blankets at an afternoon picnic by the beach, ignoring the fact that it’s actually a bit too cold to have picnics. Runs along the waterfront enjoying the fresh air and not having the sweat pouring off you like when running around Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas. And no season should be called spring if it didn’t include getting the motorbike out from its winter rest. Spun like a cat, all Easter weekend. Finally, and not to forget, the light! I never stop to appreciate when the evenings are getting longer and it’s still daylight when you go out for dinner. Almost a shame to sneak inside – even if it’s for Argentinean cuisine and music.
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