Tim and Milo Invade Mexico City, Part 1

We've been back for almost 2 weeks now, so I think it's about time I get my ass in gear and start writing about this shit. For those of you that just clicked on the snappy title and don't know what you're getting into, I'm going to warn you right now - this isn't going to be very mature. Most of our stories involve stupidity on at least one of our parts (usually both), and there's not going to be a lot of class involved here. This should go without saying for anyone that knows us, but I'm just letting you strangers know. We're dumb. But we're funny!

Okay, with that outta the way...here we go.


...the story fades into a scene where two goofy-looking, half-drunk gringos are riding in the back of a nice taxi. The taxi is surrounded by other shitty red and yellow taxis, buses of all sizes and shapes (most missing doors), and the sounds, smells, and sights of the 3rd biggest city in the world at midnight...

*HONKHONKHONK*

"Traffic's crazy here, eh? What's with the honking?"
"I dunno dude. We can't exactly ask the cab driver. Hola!"
"Sweet, we're moving. Hopefully we should..."
"Should what?"
"Dude...is that...a body?"
"...."
"....dude..."
"Holy shit. That's a fucking dead body."
"Oh...whoa. Holy fuck. Whoa."
"We've been here 10 minutes and we've already seen a fucking body? WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING HERE TIM! WHAT THE FUCK!"
"This was all your idea."
"My idea?!? You...what the...fuck you!"
"Welcome to Mexico City!"

Let's back it up a bit for a second, and explain how we ended up here. Milo called me up one day and demanded to go "backpacking" somewhere. He's demanding when he drinks, you just get used to it. Eventually, after working our way through planning a trip in some incredibly dangerous South American countries (notably Venezuela and Colombia), we decided on Ecuador. We only had 10 days, and it was a small enough country that we could cover a fair amount. It was exotic, cheap, and a fairly inexpensive flight.

Well, it was...till the flight price basically doubled overnight. Fuck.

So, all that planning went out the window. After some more nerdy net research (I'm good at it, leave me alone), I found a flight to Mexico City for 500 bucks. A steal of a deal. After showing Milo some of the cool shit there, he was down. He didn't seem concerned about the city's reputation at the time. Namely - crime, violence, and corruption. If he was down, there was no way I was gonna puss out...so Mexico City it was.

AFTER we booked the fight, Milo finally decided to do some internet research. And got very, very scurred. He'll deny it in the comments of this thing of course, because he's an internet tough guy, but it's true. He almost cried. It was pretty pathetic. I laughed at his tears, until I started reading...then I got scurred too. And others laughed at my tears.

Screw all this drug violence crap you see on the news, that's not a big thing in Mexico City. A drug war? They don't need no fucking drug war! The sun coming up there is a good enough excuse to rob, rape, and kill people left and right. It's just part of their charm. But the police will protect you, right Tim? Nyet, they're corrupt. But you can just take taxis between places to stay safe, right Tim? Wrongo, those fuckers wills robs yous like the refs robbed England in the World Cup. But, at least the food's great, right Tim? False, the bacteria in the food and water will make you more nervous and sick than Len Edwards on Father's Day.

So with all that lovely shit firmly planted in our little brains, we set off on our "adventure". Sure sounds like a fun destination so far, don't it!!

...we'll pick up the scene just after our two fearless world travelers have arrived at their hotel, shaken by the sight of a lifeless corpse on the street minutes after their arrival in the city...

"That's it? We're checked in?"
"Guess so."
"They didn't ask for our ID's? Or cash? Or a credit card?"
"Nope. Weird, eh?"
"Yeah. Okay, I guess we're set. Now we need food and beer, stat. Excuse me sir, where could we get food and beer?"
"Senor, there is a 7-11 across the street. And there's a taco stand just to the left."
"Sweeeeet."
"Wait...we're going outside? Past the padlocked door with the guard attending it? At 1am? Seriously?"
"Tim. There's beer out there. You need beer."
"Right. We can do this. Eyes on the prize, EYES ON THE PRIZE!"


We dropped our bags off in our room, and opened the patio doors. Sure enough, directly below us was a 7-11, and there was a taco stand across the street with a few people milling about. Other than those people, there we no one else out on the surprisingly clean streets. The ever-present sound of honking street taxis were the only noises emanating from the night. It seemed normal enough.

...5 minutes later, the scene picks up with two confused gringos standing in front of a gigantic hunk of mystery meat on a vertical stick, with what looked like a welding flame blowing up on it from below and enveloping the lower half of it. Next to it, a huge grill is set up facing the sidewalk, where a typically short Mexican man is working his magic with fresh (?) ingredients, butcher knives and a spatula...

"This is a trip dude."
"Fuck yeah man, this is nuts. It's just right here on the street. Like, ON the street. What the hell is that meat?"
"Dude, I have no idea. I'm more concerned with what we should order right now. I have no idea how to order anything!"
"Obviously I don't either. *staring at the menu* Uhhh...pollo means chicken. That's about all I can help with."
"Thanks, fatty. What the hell do we do? Just point at something on the menu?"
"Dude, I dunno. This was your idea. Street food 10 minutes after arrival wasn't exactly on my Mexico City to-do list! That's why I bought sandwiches at the 7-11!"
"Whoa...whatever he's making right now looks pretty fuckin' good dude."
"Wow, it really does. This cook's a magician."
"Maybe we should just get what that guy's getting."
"That's the best idea you've had all day Milo. Certainly better than trying to invite the little LA guy from the plane back to the hotel with us!"
"Fuck off, I know...that was a bad move. At least we ditched him at customs."
"I still can't believe they spoke English at customs. Fuck it, okay, we'll get what he's getting."
"It's gonna be awesome dude!"

It WAS awesome, and a great call by Milo. It was some sort of quesadilla with ham and egg and cheese in it, and it was fucking delicious. We got 3 huge ones each for 48 pesos, which is 4 bucks. We forgot to buy water, but there was a tap next to the ice machine on our floor that said "purida water"...so we risked it. Between that, a bunch of pepto bismol pills, and some 7-11 beers that Milo deemed "not alcoholic enough" because it was only 3.6%, we chilled as happy gringos on our first night in the belly of the beast.

...and the scene fades into a fuzzy view of an overdressed fat guy and an obvious tourist wearing shorts and a t-shirt standing on a street corner in the bright smoggy morning, stunned by their surroundings...

"Holy shit dude, there's cops everywhere!"
"I know, I've never seen anything like this...ever. How many are on that corner? 5?"
"I count 7. What the hell man! This is insane! And there's a bunch right over there!"
"I'm not sure whether to feel comforted or scared. Which way's the Zocalo?"
"I think it's up that way...where there's more cops."
"Makes sense. The streets are actually pretty clean, eh?"
"Yeah, and look at the women. Mexican bitches are hot!"
"All class Milo...all class. Hey, did you notice you're the only one wearing shorts?"
"I am?"
"Yeah dude. People dress pretty conservatively here. Pants and nice shirts. You're just a mark for robbers dressed like that."
"I was wondering why you were wearing such a stupid shirt."
"I hope you get robbed right now, asshole."
"You're funny Timmy. Reeeeeal funny."
"Is that the Zocalo?"
"Sure looks like it dude. I see all the FIFA stuff. Can you hear that?"
"Yea, it sounds like a very excited soccer announcer."
"Whoa dude, this is outta hand."
"I know man, I know. This place is gigantic."
"Let's watch some of the game."
"The Mexican announcer is way better. More energy."
"I agree. The vuvuzelas are 100 times as loud in this stupid square though. This is gonna drive me fucking bonkers."

Quick geography lesson - The Zocalo, or The Plaza de la Constitución, is where the Fan Fest took place. It's 10 acres in size. Yeah. That massive cathedral behind the screen is called the Metropolitan Cathedral. I'll get back to it's wackiness later. The left side and bottom, where the pic was taken from, is all federal administrative buildings. The right side is the presidential palace. All the buildings are over 220 years old.

After taking in two games there, we spent most of the rest of the day walking around the Centro Historico. We discovered a whole shitload of people going about their day, in a pretty clean downtown area with a lot of pedestrian-only streets. Taxis were absolutely everywhere, making a racket. And cops. Lots and lots of cops. So many that we never felt remotely unsafe that day, or any other day that we hung out in the Centro. After sampling a few touristy bars, it started to get late in the afternoon, so we decided to walk down to the Alameda, which is a big park to the west of our hotel that people hang out in.

On our trip over there, one thing stood out...we both noticed that there were some weird people around. One was a dude from New Orleans that tried to sell us weed. We blew him off pretty quickly, but he'd reappear many times. Other than that, it was more of a vibe.


...the scene fades in right as your two clearly troubled travelers arrive in Alameda Park, confused by their surroundings...

"Dude, did you see all the rainbow flags back there? There was one hanging from a window in our hotel too."
"Rainbow flags? Is that what they are? How do you know that anyway?"
"Fuck off, I spent a summer refitting the Dufferin when I was working construction. You learn some stuff."
"Wait, YOU LEARN SOME STUFF?"
"Not like that you asshole. You didn't notice anything...different...on the way over here?"
"Well, I noticed the dance club with the shirtless dudes hanging off the balcony. They were kinda hard to miss. And now that you mention it, I think I saw some dudes holding hands. The girls do that here, but that's a friendly thing...I just figured the guys do it too?"
"You wanna hold hands Timmy?"
"Fuck off and die Milo."
"Seriously though, look over there...are those dudes kissing? What the fuck!"
"Yeah, thanks for pointing that out. Really, thanks for that. I need more pepto pills now."
"Whoa dude look at THAT transvestigation! Is it on stilts? IT'S ON STILTS! HAHA!"
"Wow. I have no words. That's...wow."
"Let's go sit on over there and just watch this craziness!"
"Uh, okay. *walk over to a bench* Uh, Rob...ROB. Look at that creepstar."
"HOLLLEEE SHIT that's nuts dude! NUTS!"
"Literally. Eww."
"I think it's time we get outta here. I thought you said the gay area was far away from here!"
"It is man! The Zona Rosa is like 3km from here! I don't get it! There's nothing in the guidebook about THIS!!"

I'm gonna go on record right now and say that neither of us have any particular problem with gay people. They're just like any other people, no big deal. I think we were just shocked because we didn't expect it to be so...blatant. The walk back was even more full-on. We were surrounded by gay dudes in various states of undress, partying the night away. It was right then that the light bulb came on for both of us when a tranny dressed as a vampire walked by...

"Milo, you think this is the way it always is here? Or did we show up for some festival or something?"
"Dude, it looks like Davie on Pride weekend..."
"Oh shit."
"HOLY SHIT DUDE! You fucking booked our trip to Mexico City on their Gay Pride weekend parade type shit didn't you? HAHAHAHA!"
"Oh no. Oh fuck."
"HAHAHA FAG!"
"Fuck! Never tell anyone of this!"
"Yeah right dude! I'm updating my facebook status as soon as we get back and telling everyone all about it!"
"I hate you. I DIDN'T KNOW! I DIDN'T KNOW!!!"

Sure enough, get back to the hotel and look on the net...yup. Gay Pride weekend. Gigantic parade down the Reforma. Big party all day. Well at least it made sense now. Dammit.

"Dude! I DIDN'T KNOW!"
"Suuure you didn't know. Sure. Suuuuure."
"Die Milo. Die."
"HAHA Timmy. You're a fucking dipshit. That's too funny. Fuck, what an idiot."
"Well, I might as well just fucking post it on facebook too. Fuck."
"Hey Timmy..."
"What?"
"You wanna hold hands?"
"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD MILO. YOU HEAR ME? DEAD!"

Europe Trip, Final Chapter - Oslo

In the Copenhagen airport, I had a beer while waiting for my plane. It was just under 11 dollars Canadian. It was the most expensive beer I had ever bought. That record lasted approximately 5 hours...

It was snowing when I arrived in Oslo. Not exactly a surprise, it's fucking Norway after all. But this was a LOT of snow. Everywhere else in Scandinavia, I had heard the same thing over and over... "This is the worst winter we've had in __ years!". In Oslo, the blank was filled in with a big 20. And I actually believed these people, because it was fucking nuts!

I got onto the airport train (37 dollars for 20 minute trip), and tried to get a glimpse of the city on the trip in. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen, due to the combination of a heavy snowfall and the train doing 220km/h. It was the whitest whiteout I've ever seen. It was so bright I couldn't even look out the window. It was whiter than Barack Obama. I've never seen anything like that.

So, I arrive downtown and FINALLY see Norway. It's pretty cool. When I planned the trip, I picked a hotel that was only 3 blocks from the train station because it'd be easy. Uh, no. Due to the insane snow and my shitty sense of direction, it took an hour to traverse those 3 blocks. Dammit. All was not lost though, because the hotel girl upgraded me to an apartment just because I was from Vancouver. Score!

After dropping off my stuff, I immediately went for a walk. The hole in my shoe was acting up again due to all the snow, but whatever...I'm tough. Unfortunately, all the cool stuff in my tourist guide was completely covered by snow too, which made the things less than enthralling. I seriously didn't find 2 or 3 of them until I was standing right in front of the things, because the snow completely covered them up. And these things (statues, BUILDINGS) weren't small. The harbor was absolutely awesome though, snow or not.

The streets were pretty clear of snow, but it was still a bitch to get around anywhere. I think you know what that means. A nice comfy seat in a pub, stat. I found a pub called The Dubliner. Now, anyone who's traveled a bit knows that Irish pubs in other countries are NEVER actually Irish pubs. They're decorated like one, but there will invariably be a local behind the bar, who doesn't speak English, and there's not an Irishman in sight.

Until this pub.

I walked in, and the bartender was Irish. The customers were all Irish and English. There was rugby on TV (coincidentally a game between England and Ireland). It was awesome, for about 45 seconds. I ordered a pint, and the nice bartender said "71 kroner please." A simple math equation in my head stupefied me.

The pint was 13.50 Canadian. Ouch.

I figured maybe I ordered the most expensive type of beer or something, and sort of blew it off. It was my last stop and I had money left, no biggie. The two Irish guys next to me were babbling about something or other, and they were super funny. Turns out one is a comedian. We talk for a bit, and after I inform him that I'm Canadian, he says to the bartender:

"Aye! Barkeep, get a beer on me for my new moose fucker friend over here."

Moose fucker? Really? That's what we're called in Ireland (and apparently Oslo)? Wow.

I certainly wasn't complaining though, since beers were worth more than Milo makes to work a 24 hour shift as a paramedic. I happily consumed that pint while the Irish guy took off to watch the game in the back. I offered one in return, which is usually the rule, but he turned me down and said it was okay. Super nice guy. With my newfound wealth, I figured I should order some food. Fish and chips seemed reasonable in a place like this, right?

31 dollars. Yeah. After that raping, I decided to call it an early night before I had to call my bank to get my credit limit raised.

I got up early the next morning (which was the norm for my trip) to go for a longer walk around the city when there weren't many people around. As expected, it's really very nice. Still lotsa snow though:

These people had left their bikes there 4 hours before that. Seriously.

I had heard the people were cold (no pun intended) and would try to avoid speaking English, but I didn't find that to be the case at all. Everyone was super friendly, curious about my motives for being there, and eager to direct me to cool stuff in the city. It was a very enjoyable cruise around, which had me end up at the harbor again because it's really cool. Here's another harbor pic, just for fun:

I thought the Canada/USA gold medal game was going to be at 2am Norwegian time, which would have made things very difficult for me since I had to be up at 6 to begin the long trip home. To my elation and surprise, I walked by the TGI Fridays and saw the sign out front: "Canada vs. USA Hockey: 9pm".

9pm? YES! I could watch! I immediately became very excited and did a little dance, which earned me a few odd stares, but I didn't care. Canada was gonna win the gold, and I was gonna see it!

I spent the rest of the day alternating between walking around the city and anxiously waiting for the game to start. I could have watched in my hotel room, but that didn't seem like much fun. Why not go to TGI Fridays? Even if I was the only person in there, at least someone else would be bringing me (expensive) beers, right? Right, dammit. After purchasing an energy drink for 45kr (about 8 bucks!) to make sure I stayed awake...it was fucking game time.

So I walk in and take a seat in front of the big screen. Predictably, it was dead because it was a Sunday night. I was perfectly happy watching by myself, but nooo...someone had to ruin my fucking serenity. Who you ask?

The people that ruin EVERYTHING. Americans.

They weren't even cool Americans either. There were 3 of them, 2 guys and a girl. One had a Team USA jersey on, which almost made me hurl. Of course, they sat down right beside me and talked to me, because that's what ignorant people do. I resisted the urge to Ric Flair chop all of them, and found out they were from Denver. The one wearing the jersey said they weren't really hockey fans, he just bought the jersey because "the colors were nice". What the fuck?

I spent two and a half periods drinking pricey beer and going completely bonkers over every little thing. The waitress asked me, in a very, very polite way, to keep it down a bit, but eff that. I couldn't help myself. The Americans didn't really do or say much. The girl was even reading a book for part of it. I was surprised any of them actually knew how to read.

So, 30 seconds to go, we're up 2-1. Then...Parise scores and nearly crushes my bloated heart. The Americans don't even jump up or do anything in particular...they just say "We tied it up. Great." That was both good and bad, because if they had blown up I might have clubbered one of them...but it was just retarded that they didn't react at all. Way to be a debbie downer, nerdbombers. I went for a walk in the intermission, because I was pretty worked up.

I came back, and...the game wasn't on. Some Norwegian news show was. I thought it was an intermission show, but...it didn't end. I frantically ran over to the waitress and asked about it, and she changed it to another channel that was now showing the game. I was hugely relieved, but what the fuck? Who changes the entire STATION that's carrying a game right before overtime? Fucking Norway.

So, overtime. Some oohs and ahhs, nailbiting, etc...then Crosby scores. I go absolutely nuts and start running laps around the bar screaming and yelling "YESSSS MOTHERFUCKERS WE'RE THE FUCKING BEST MOTHERFUCKERS" I stop back at our table and show what a good sport I am by yelling "HOW YOU LIKE THEM APPLES MOTHERFUCKERS!" at the Americans.

Aaand I was removed from the premises.

I went peacefully, but managed to yell "I'M GOING TO SING MY NATIONAL ANTHEM BACK AT MY FUCKING HOTEL! WOOO!!" for some reason as I went through the door. Go 13 dollar beers. I'm nice and mature.

I raced (well, waddled) back to the hotel and caught the medal presentation, and, true to my word, stood up, took my hat off, and sang O Canada as loud as I could. Alone in my hotel room. I don't care if that's weird, it felt right at the time, okay?

I went to sleep as the happiest fat Canadian guy in Norway (or the only one, take your pick), and got up in the morning ready to tackle my multiple flights home with a big sloppy Canadian smile on my face. At the airport, I had 420kr left. That's about 75 bucks, give or take. Lotsa money. I also had 3 hours to kill, so I went to the pub.

85kr for a beer. Around 16 bucks. Officially the most expensive pint I will probably ever buy. I actually kept the bill in case people didn't believe me. I just checked the exchange rate, and it's actually gone down a fair amount since I was there. Today, it's a nice tidy 14 bucks. Like that's any better. So after that pint, I had 325kr left. I thought "I don't even have enough left for 4 more pints." With just under 60 bucks in my pocket! Besides the fact that those are probably the thoughts of a degenerate liquor pig who obviously doesn't have his priorities straight...what the fuck!

I realized I didn't have a book for the flight home, so I went over to the bookstore, terrified at the thought of the prices there. I picked up The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx. 139kr. A relatively paltry 27 bucks. I needed a book though, so that was that. I had enough left for two more pints, so I savored those bitches like they were the last piece of poon I'll ever get, and eventually it was time to go home.

I was actually sad to be leaving Norway, because I really liked it. I wish I had more time, because there are plenty of other places in Norway I'd love to check out. Of all the Scandinavian countries, it was my personal favorite. The only problem is how ridiculously expensive everything was. I'd have to save up for a looooong time if I wanted to go back. Once I hit the rest of the countries in the world, it's at the top of the list for a repeat visit though.

On the plane, I thumbed through the airline book to the menu page. A beer was 28kr. 28. Just under 1/3 of the price in the Oslo airport. Absolutely unbelievable. At that point, I demanded a recount and immediately renamed Iceland as my favorite Scandinavian country again. I can do these things. Why?

I'm cool like that.

Europe Trip, Part 7 - Copenhagen

I arrived at the Manchester airport, still not knowing the score of the Canada/Russia game. I immediately went to an internet kiosk after clearing security, and impatiently waited while TSN loaded. When I saw 7-3 Canada, I just yelled "YEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!" as loud as I could, completely oblivious to where I was. Everyone in that entire section of the airport looked at me, and that was a lot of people. Still oblivious, I looked in their general direction and yelled "CANADA WON!"...to which everyone either laughed or just went back to their own business.

After a couple of seconds I realized how incredibly embarrassing that was, and turned bright red and sunk into my little kiosk as much as I could. Which, let's face it, wasn't much because I'm huge. Every time I looked up for the next 10 minutes or so, someone was still looking at me or laughing. Again, slightly embarrassing...but that's how I roll, bitches.

So, onto Denmark. Copenhagen's airport is very modern and laid out very well, which made it easy to find the train station. Unfortunately, the next 3 trains into town were canceled so I sat there and waited for almost an hour. Once it finally showed though, shit went smoothly and I was in the center of town in no time.

I was starving by that point, so I decided to grab a hot dog as I was leaving the station to walk to my hotel. He asked me what I wanted on it and I said nothing, but apparently "nothing" means "everything" in Danish English, because I got this hot dog with all kinds of shit on it. 9 sauces, relish, onions, you name it. I like approximately none of that shit, so I did my best to try and scoop it off.

Nyet.

I just ended up with goop all over my hands while people all around me laughed and probably taunted me in Danish. It just wasn't my day for impressing the public, that's for sure. After grabbing about 90 napkins to wipe myself off, I finally took off towards my hotel. Oh, and I smelled like mustard for my entire time there, despite having about 5 showers and scrubbing like a rape victim. Weird.

So my hotel was one of these new ultra-modern technology places. The idea is that you use kiosks to check in and get your key, so you don't have to wait in line for a hotel employee. You do it the same way checking out. Too bad the kiosks were all retarded and worked for nearly no one (including myself) so I had to...you guessed it, wait in line to fucking check in/out with a hotel employee. The hotel was brand new and in an industrial area, which meant that there was pretty much nothing around it except for construction sites. To buy or see anything, I had to trek the 10 minutes back to the bus station area. Slightly inconvenient, but the hotel was a fucking steal in Copenhagen, which is a very pricey city, so it was worth it.

I think I was still in chill mode from England, because I didn't do much of anything the first day there. I went for a short walk around the station area and checked out a few things, but I was really unmotivated. All the rain didn't help either. So...I did a whole lot of nothing. Drank a few Carlsbergs, watched some Olympics on my fancy flat-screen TV, and caught up on what had gone on in North America other than the Olympics for the past 2 weeks or so.

About the only interesting thing that happened was when my room door suddenly swung open, revealing a fucking super-hot blonde maid. Porn music kicked off in my head pretty much immediately, but it was not to be...she apologized profusely for having the wrong room and took off. Denied, as usual.

I decided that since I had wasted pretty much an entire day in a city I always wanted to see, I'd have to go into overdrive the next day to cover as much as I could. I spent about 4 hours walking around, and saw lotsa cool shit. My personal humorous highlight was walking through the red light district, where the hookers just stand there and go "PSSSST" at you, trying to get your attention. It was pretty odd...it made it seem like she was more interested in telling you a secret than anything else, which made me laugh at the idea of it. Anyway, Copenhagen is a beautiful city full of amazing buildings and sculptures and stuff, and the canals are awesome too.

The main area was a little smaller than I expected though, so by mid-afternoon I had seen pretty much everything I had set out to see. You know what that means...pub time!

My friend Kate used to live in Copenhagen and told me to go to this bar called the Moose, which was like the Cambie of Copenhagen. Unsurprisingly, I couldn't find it and got lost. I must have set some kind of world record for the number of cities I got lost in on this trip.

Anyway, after I finally gave up on my Moose dream I just went into the first pub I saw - an Australian pub. I know, I know. You'd think I'd aim for an actual Danish pub or something, but noooo. I actually went in there because I could see their TV through the window, and a gorgeous girl was in a music video. Finding out who she was provided me with all the inspiration I needed to go inside. Well, that and the beer. Obviously.

7 bucks, Cheryl Cole, and a crossword puzzle. Those are the answers. The questions? In order - how much they charged for my first beer (in Canadian), who the hot girl was on TV, and what I did in the pub other than drink. There was no one in there except for the owner when I stepped through the doors. A little odd, but that's never stopped me before. After serving me up a Kilkenny, he demanded that I help him with his crossword puzzle in exchange for a discount on the 2nd beer. Hells yeah I can do that. Finally my intelligence could be used for a worthy purpose!

Uh, no. This was the hardest fucking crossword puzzle of all time.

I got one thing right. ONE. He got about three. The rest of it was just us looking at each other and alternating between "what the hell?" and "who made this up?" with a few swear words interspersed at regular intervals. I felt pretty fucking stupid after attempting that thing. I did get a free beer out of it though...but it was probably out of pity more than anything. Who cares though, free beer is free beer! After another one and some time admiring about 10 Cheryl Cole videos in a row (look her up if you don't know who she is - gorgeous), I had a good buzz and decided I was going to walk around Copenhagen some more.

As usual, my motivation evaporated quicker than Milo's memory (he's sitting right beside me, so he seemed like an appropriate target for a joke...plus, the guy forgets everything you say 5 seconds after you say it...he's like a goldfish!), I somehow ended up sitting on a bench which overlooked one of the bigger canals in the city. Me, my ipod, a Carlsberg or 4, and the canal just hung out for a while. It was completely frozen over, since it was about -5 outside. Yes, I like cold weather...we've gone through this already.

A couple of people rode by on bicycles and gave me odd looks, but I was used to that by now. I just sat there and mentally flipped through my last couple of weeks, laughing at my stupidity and marveling at all the shit I had seen. It was pretty peaceful, until I decided to leave. I got up, walked about 3 steps, and slipped and fell on my ass. I'm all class baby! It was dark by then, and I couldn't really head out to another pub because I had to leave for Oslo early in the morning, so I decided to call it a night.

Overall, Copenhagen was awesome. I don't want to use a stupid faggy word like enchanting, but it has a lot of character and I can definitely see why people call it the most fun city in Scandinavia. The people are more outgoing and they all come across as pretty happy. Everyone rides bikes around the city, which adds to the charm and means the city isn't as choked with traffic as most major cities. Take all that and throw in the architecture and canals, and you've got a hell of a destination. I'd highly recommend it.