It’s 6.14am here in Copenhagen, I had to get away from the snoring girl in our room. Imagine the sound of a vacuum cleaner, sucking large amounts of snot and saliva, in and out iiiin and ouuut. That’s her unique brand of nocturnal noise.
Anyway, yesterday was brilliant. I will edit this when I get home with proper place names and photos, right now I am writing half asleep. We started the day off at the royal palace square thingy. Was just thinking it was a little dull when a swish black car zooms across the square. Who was at the wheel?
“It’s MARY!” squealed an Aussie guy in our group. “It’s Australia’s Crown Princess Mary!”
Holy fuck it was. A dozen people swooped after her, yelling mary mary mary! I refused to run after her (that wasn’t just due to laziness, really). I got one distant shot before shouting after everyone, “Leave her alone, you freaks! Don’t chase princesses in cars! You all know what happened to Diana!”
People are still Mary mad here. Pubs have Danish and Aussie flags. Hundreds of people forked out 40 kroner to see her wedding dress on display (we did!). Locals have been even nicer to us when they hear our accent.
We checked out the resistance museum, sat in the park and couldnøt believe we left our sunscreen and glasses in the hostel. Did some window shopping, went to the museum of erotica. FINALLY i get to go to a museum of erotica. It was mostly informative and amusing, but then you get to this room with dozens of TVs playing pornos and realise you’re the only tourist among many lonely men with slightly glazed expressions.
Next on to Tivoli http://www.tivoli.dk/composite-297.htm Where the hell is the thingies on this Danish keyboard? We strolled around watching kiddies throw tantrums and people screaming on roller coasters. Then we noticed large crowds gathered round the concert hall. Apparently it was the 70th birthday of the Queen’s hubby. There were photographers prowling with lenses as big as the World’s Biggest Penis i’d seen at the Erotica Museum.
Sure enough, Princess Mary and that gorgeous hunk of her Crown Prince hubby came walking along the gardens. I whipped out the camera and started filming. I have 20 seconds of paparazzi elbows, cheering kiddies and brief glimpses of the lovely couple. I chased her down the path like a true pro (but keeping a respectful distance, unlike some vultures), mostly getting my shoes. Then the Queen and her hubby arrived and everyone stopped chasing and clapped politely instead.
When we met up with our group later on, they had seen her after the concert, so they had beautiful close up magazineish shots of her waving. I fumed in a pot of envy until I realised my shitty video meant more to me than a perfect headshot, I’d captured glimpses of Mary’s bewildered and slightly overwhelmed expression as the crowds went berserk.
It was a rockin day, I can’t believe I am finally on holiday. So this is why we worked those stupid 7 day weeks. Here are some squiggles on the Danish keyboard æ æ ø ø åå. Take care, groovers. Today we’re off to Stockholm.