Return of the fleas

One of my favorite parts of this season is the return of the outdoor flea markets. For a moment there I was worried that my new minimalistic thing meant the end of those, but it turns out they still rock (especially with a hangover). My focus have simply shifted from buying to taking pictures. But of course the moment you stop chasing for the perfect vintage dress, there it is. The most amazing thing, in a heavy vintage silk charmeuse, and a perfect fit too. Victory! Today's market was in Jægersborggade, where cool bikes go to park (and make out), and in some cases they even take center stage:

Ingolf, leading mouse and best friend of my childhood icon Cirkeline.

Dealing and senseless drinking allowed! Tuborg

Plastic bags from the discount supermarket chain Netto. Discount is King here, the cheaper the better...

Everything for free! (and we have a winner!)

On my way back I was sucked in by this one, mocking the culture of fear. "Newspaper front page" announcing that all Danes are going to die, flyer for a new release from F.U.K.T. Have a soundbite:

  Falling by F.U.K.T

Every time I see these overpainted vans I wonder if the owner is okay with this, or if a big white surface is just considered an unwritten invitation to anyone with a can of paint? 

Tomorrow it is my turn to hit the fleas with my blast from the past. I am so ready to rid myself of it all, hallelujah brothers and sisters!

♥

Here's my badge!

In my neighborhood there is a general distrust of authorities and in the police in particular. You can tell from the word of mouth and the writing on the wall, but personally I have only had good experiences. Until yesterday. I live down the street from a penitentiary, and as luck would have it a truck of the inmates was about to be transferred when they got blocked by the movers of my storage. By law the movers are allowed to unload briefly, if need be by blocking the street, and people down the street can tell before entering that this may be a few minutes. But no. The men with badges called other men with badges, and they all showed up in uniform to enforce the non-law that allowed them to pass at the cost of my movers parking around the corner, carrying the burden of my heavy past on their shoulders that much further.

This happened only because my movers was afraid of the repercussions. And although this is not a violation of my human rights, and much worse things happen all over the world every day, I still object to this abuse of power. And I understand how anyone subjected to this may find it hard to trust the system in the future. So I don't have a badge, but I have a big mouth and a blog to go with it. Before unloading the blast from the past on you, I had to get this off my chest.

Here's my badge:

All systems go

If under dressed girls on bikes and flirty men are your thing, this would be a great time to visit Copenhagen. The last week we have had a non stop streak of almost summer like weather, and this has worked as a kick start on us Danes: all systems are go. This is the big payoff I was talking about, the reward for sticking it out six months in the dungeon. And there is no saying how long it will last, so we go all out and under dress, overeat delicious ice cream (observation: cones are so over, it's all about the cups and spoons now), drink oversized draft beer or chilled wine (on weekdays too) in the sun, and move religiously in any direction it takes us. More often than not that would be on the ground. It doesn't matter.

And it is not just that we need our D-vitamins (so much so that they recently launched an icky D-vitamin enriched milk), it is also about feeling the juices return to your body, feeling alive. For me it is like the first spring I have had, well... ever. I almost feel like I may have missed it the last time around. This time I am ready: windows cleaned, outlook good, and tomorrow the movers from the storage facility will clutter up my house all over again with a lifetime of emotional concrete. I say: bring it on!

Hippie days

After complaining about the quiet, I actually started to enjoy the car free time, so peaceful. Without the parked cars the streets appear wider, and it makes me want to run down and plant a tree or something. Claim some of the space back. I must be turning into some kind of hippie, I am not sure what is going on here. But when you think about it how democratic is this car thing? We all inhale these toxic fumes, we build our lives around the needs of a few to get around as fast as they can encased in cocoons of unattractive metal. What is that really about?

And it is not that I don't love beautiful cars with a great personality, you know that. It makes perfect sense to me that people want to own and drive them. They are things of beauty to be shared with everybody, even when parked. And although they too are gassy and toxic, at least they come with a compensation. When we enter my new world order, they can stay.

All good cars should have names. Meet Dolly:

And this one I named Dirty, sexy car:

Mmmmmmhhh!

 And finally Her Highness my old Mini. Were you introduced yet? I miss her.

Okay, I suck at that hippie thing already...

It's oh, so quiet...

We're mid Easter, and Copenhagen is quiet. Warm and sunny, but quiet in the all-the-Jutlanders-went-home-and-took-their-cars-with-them way. In many ways Easter is like mini-jul (you know the not-Christmas), with all of five consecutive holidays. There are Easter dinners, we drink Easter brew (a bigger selection of those than you can possibly count) and those who have families pay them a visit. And as always I can't wait for it to be over... I like the shops open and the city alive, this suburban vibe is not for me. Before you know it I am on the next plane to Berlin or something, destination heartbeat, haha.

But I can tell Copenhagen is happy to have me back, because there are lots of little treasures waiting for me on almost every corner, with a generous side of a hot and sunny spring. Who am I to complain? Maybe I should just go ahead and check out that Easter brew. Show this saturday who's the boss. 

A hot jul for everybody (you tell me what is up with the timing?)

Oh, Copenhagen, I love you.

♥♥♥

Party time

This is what it must be like to throw a big party and tell some of your children they can't come. Heartbreak. Sorting out only the very best street art pictures from the latest Amsterdam trip has been torment, haha, how crazy is that? Most of the best was from the same street, on a cluster of former squats in Spuistraat in the centre of Amsterdam. As I was mid make-out session on day two with this street art lovers bonanza, a guide with a huge following camped out in front of me and he had a lot to say about these buildings. In Spanish. Needless to say the mystery remains.

Try and read it, it is in English..

You accept if you don't react. Stop the G8

The infamous extreme right wing politician Geert Wilders.

By street artist FAKE. Next day it was already painted over.

The bicycle rack building.

Is is a pain that I only show you the close up's I wonder? Let me know if you need more of the full picture. On the bright side, if I was not such a macro-girl, I would probably have missed this little guy:

That would have been unbearable. 

I hope you enjoyed the party!

♥

Born to ride

After dragging you with me, through what at times seemed like an endless tunnel, it is only fair that you get to share the light. I found it in Amsterdam and took so many pictures that my backup mac is hyperventilating. Oh, yes, we are back to that because the puppy crashed and burned for the second time in only four months. But let's not dwell on that rotten apple for now.

No need to tell you how things have looked gloomy in the dungeon lately, with the finances to match. But I just realised that there was enough frequent flyer miles to take me to Amsterdam and into the welcoming arms of my extended family, so within less than 24 hours from booking, I was on my way. Business class no less, when I needed it the most, and with an unbooked middle seat for my personal space, thank you very much. Champagne? Coffee? Tea? A foot rub, perhaps? (no, not really).

I decided to finally try out the no luggage travel experience, and that's quite a challenge for a woman, let me tell you, but it worked out even better than expected. No waiting time (the next best thing after personal space), and only a 17 minute train ride into the centre of Amsterdam. It turns out you don't need to drag a small coffin around with you when you leave home. Why did no one tell me this before?

There is so much to show you that it won't even fit into just one post. Even though both Amsterdam and Copenhagen are bicycle cities, they are very different from each other. For one thing the bicyclists don't use hand signs much. But that only means that everybody pays more attention to each other on the road. Your perimeter is wider, and if someone is approaching they see you too, and somehow it is understood who speeds up and who slows down slightly. As a rule the "uphill" riders have the advantage, so logical really. It is not the cars against the bicyclists, but rather one big well functioning organism. And yelling from the bike is simply not done. Unless you are a visiting Copenhagener near colliding with an ignorant woman walking her dog in the middle of the road... Amsterdammers are just born to ride.

You would think this is a rare sight. It is not.

Incidentally: one guess how many bicycle helmets I spotted? Zero. Amsterdam rules!

Two loves in one: the bicycle and coffee, plus the flowers oh crazy yum. I made my happy dance after taking these pictures, if you must know.

I wish I knew what material these flowers are cut from, perhaps a reflective sheet?

Personalised crates are big in Amsterdam. Wood, plastic, with stickers, flowers, painted, stenciled..

And City of Copenhagen, take note:



Bicycle tile...



... for the bicycle parking lot. The simple recipe for keeping the sidewalks clear.

Building with a built-in bicycle parking system.

I ♡ Amsterdam

(to be continued)

Doctor's orders

Sometimes you gotta quit the over thinking and just do it. And this here was just what the doctor ordered. Until the full update, here is a quick bite:

I can't tell you how I needed this!

♥