More than a Pastry :: Personal Narrative Essays

Danish is More than a Pastry   Okay...this is one of the saddest things. I just spent 45 minutes typing this email and then the stupid mail system broke gobble up and it was lost when I displace it Aaaghh...the horror...   The email was about my crazy, crazy day yesterday. What an adventure But what happened, exactly? Well, Ill start from the very beginning   Here goes   I woke up to a attractive day. Took my time preparing breakfast and enjoyed my good cup (well, cups) of coffee, as well as a bowl of oatmeal with sugar and raisins sprinkled on top, soaked 3/4s with milk. luscious I checked my email and started psyching myself up for the bike ride into Copenhagen. When 1030 rolled around, I got my stuff together and headed out.   I began my long, arduous voyage from Roskilde to Copenhagen officially at 1045. Rested from last nights good sleep, I could push myself and make it there in about an hour and a half. I was in no hurry though...my first obligation fo r the afternoon was meeting Carolina concerning our IPO (initial public offering) project due next week. And my first class wasnt until 330. So I had plenty of time   I was spinning pretty well...staying in second gear mostly. Yeah, that is NOT a typo...second gear. It must be illustrious that this bike HAS only 3 gears. Its my host-moms bike...3 gears, purple frame, and you pedal backwards to brake. Oh, and when its dark out I use what you call a dynamo. I push it down until it touches the front wheels rim, start pedaling, and it creates electricity so the light turns on So smart   (I just consulted with my host-brother, Michael, and have decided to name my bike Lille Lilla which is Little royal in Danish. Thats a nice name)   Right, back to the story...so Lilla and I are heading steadily east and Im thinking Gosh This is amazing Im in Denmark...biking.....into school How cool is that? Im in Europe and its gorgeous here Sometimes I just get this overwhelming happy fe eling its almost unreal Im here.   Im about halfway to Copenhagen and I cross an intersection. When I cross, a car honks. Now, its rare that cars honk in Denmark. You know, the Danes ARE very civilized people...and its not necessarily honking at me, of course.