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I decided to try my luck by sea instead. The wind had calmed down enough for ferries to go by schedule, and by 7 a.m. I was aboard. The only problem was those last 150 km from the arrival port to Copenhagen. So I decided to forget all about dignity and psyched myself up to start asking people on the ferry for a ride the last bit to Copenhagen. As I am a smallish harmless-looking girl, I thought I might have a chance. Finally, after a lot of asking around, a woman called Rosa said, "sure, I'm going to the airport, too." I still have this picture in my mind, a scene straight out of a road movie, of me in Rosa's car. We're going down the highway, driving quite slowly, avoiding all the tree trunks reaching out onto the road.
The weather is calm, the sun is shining beautifully. Traffic lights are all out, a policeman in a neon vest is waving us by. A big truck lies in the ditches with it's wheels in the air like a giant dead insect. All the while we´re making our way to Copenhagen, me and Rosa in her car, listening to a tape featuring a Bulgarian Elvis impersonator - the guy she's picking up at the airport. "Djou ai' nothing bu' a hou'dog" - he hasn't quite got his pronunciation right. At the airport on time I head for the check out, leaving my wrecked country behind. From there everything goes smoothly. The plane takes off and lands in London, my english pal picks me up at the airport - "What storm?" he says. I unpack my stuff, pick up my free ticket - and a backstage pass (!!), I figure out the tube system and head for the Wembley Arena.




Photos © 1999, V. Bertelsen. Non commercial use only.