Copenhagen: Day 6

By the time you're reading this, I will have left the Kingdom of Denmark. I'll be seated next to an old man on a 787 who has waited his entire life to go to Los Angeles. Or maybe I'll be seated next to a USC Junior who just finished studying abroad and is going to see her family for the first time in 6 months.

Tomorrow when I get home, I'm going to sleep for a week. Maybe longer. I'll see you in June.

14 days ago, I was hiking Temescal Canyon and I had a panic attack. I checked my bank account and I had something like $1,200 to my name. Somehow I partied for a week at Coachella and crawled around Scandinavia and my debit card hasn't stopped working.

I realize that the things I do are irrational, but I break it down like this:

Would I have regretted not going to Coachella for the rest of my life?
Would I have regretted not going to Denmark for the rest of my life?

If the answer to one or both of these is yes, then the simple answer is to go.

And that may sound severe...it's just a music festival bro. It's just a trip to some place far away, at some hostel, alone...

While that may not appeal to you, things like this are my reason for existence.

As we grow older, my peers will likely have nicer apartments, go to nicer meals, drive faster cars.

I will have better stories.

Like this one...

I'm sitting in an empty bar. Well, empty except for me, 9 Irish girls, 3 Norweigian girls, 2 girls from Amsterdam, a couple chicks from Cal Poly and an Australian girl.

There is an Irish dude too, I forget his name.

I've joined one of those 'pub crawl' type things because it's a Tuesday and I feel like my best chance to find some people to hang out with is join something organized. For $20 they promise you 8 shots and to introduce you to some peeps to drink with, not a terrible deal when you're traveling alone.

Demographically tonight, I have hit the jackpot. I'm pretty sure at least 60% of these chicks would go home with me if I asked nicely. So far it's a good last day.

I rented a bike this morning, I rode it to the Carlsberg Brewery. Then I did a walking tour of Denmark and learned stuff.

But now I'm sitting at a table with 9 Irish teachers, all 25, 2 pairs of them have the same name. I've already forgotten, it's something really Irish. I think there is a Julie or a Julia.

The girls are a bit restless, I suppose it's because aside from us, the bar really is empty. Everyone is asking our bar crawl leader for some place a little livelier.

"Sorry, it's a Tuesday."

People start to leave, I look down at my phone. It's 2am, shit. I wasn't ready for the night to end.

Ever since I got here, I had been looking for the 'Study abroad bar.' I just wanted to get fucked up with some 21 year old Americans. Where was the Tiger Tiger? The Opium? The Yab/Central Park/Mericana/Twice/21/Space/Lochness?

I was walking home but decided I needed a hot dog. They're big here, it's a thing. I made a wrong turn and suddenly I heard some thumping bass, I followed it a few blocks, I accidentally walked through a construction site...and there it was. A line.

It looked like so many of the douchey bars I've been too all around the world. Some guy in the front was smoking a Camel Crush and wearing a USC shirt. I look at the sign 'The Tequila Bar'

*Does quick Yelp search*

Cheap tequila shots, lots of frat bros, rude, loud, disgusting. One star.

I was home.

I walk in and immediately some Swedish girl tries to pawn me off on her tall friend. I'm not morally opposed to the tall friend because I can only imagine how popular our future children would be, but tonight I'm on a mission.

I walk to the bar and order 10 shots of tequila. I don't know why, I don't really like tequila.

I take the first one, I take the second one.

Some guy next to me chimes in.

'Did you order 10 shots of tequila, for yourself?'

I look at his hat, there's a familiar logo on it.

'You go to IU?'

'Ya we just finished our last final today, we go home tomorrow.'

He's with 2 buddies and 2 chicks.

At this point I'm sure I said something preachy like 'you don't know how great this is, it's the best time of your life blah blah blah...but the message was.

Let's not go to bed tonight.

So we took tequila shots at said bar until they kicked us out around 5am. On the way out the door, we stole a bottle and drank it in the King's Garden, a nice little park behind my hostel. It felt very Danish to be honest.

I came to around 8am, one of the IU bros tapping me on the shoulder.

'Hey man, sun is coming up we have to go pack, Maybe we'll see you at the airport.'

I came back here to sleep on the hammock for a couple hours before packing.

I remember the day I got back from abroad. I landed at the Detroit airport at 8pm and I made my dad take me directly to a Buffalo Wild Wings. I slept for 28 hours straight then drove down to Bloomington to get fucked up at Kilroy's. I moved to Chicago for the summer shortly thereafter and had the greatest summer of my life, followed by Senior Year, the greatest year of my life.

Coming back to Europe, staying in the same type of hostel I stayed in 8 years ago, doing the same stuff, it feels like nothing has changed.

But of course everything has changed. I'm almost 30, I have responsibilities now. Well at least I do back home. When I come over here, I feel like there are no rules, like none of it is real. It's as if I am logging into a video game that escapes me from my real life. I understand why ex-pats do it.

But...

I like my life, I'm excited to come home and see everyone. I'm excited to lay on the couch and watch Netflix. I'm excited to badger my roommate to bring me home pretentious juices and I'm excited to send 2am 'u up' texts to people that I shouldn't.

If you ever see a cheap flight, just do it. Maybe other people will join you, maybe they won't. It really doesn't matter. You'll have a blast and you will definitely grow as a person. It's a talking point for the rest of your life.

I will never forget Copenhagen and to be honest, I'll probably never come back. How can I when there is so much left to do? I have to go visit the Scots in Glasgow, I have to make it back to London, I have to go see Eastern Europe. I hear Oslo is nice, I've never been to fucking Australia.

Travel solo, travel with your friends, travel with your family, it doesn't fucking matter. Just get out of the house and go. There is so much cool shit out in the world. We are not the protagonist in our own novel, we are merely supporting players in this crazy world.

I'll be home Wednesday night and I'll surely crash off of this outrageous wave I've been riding, but within a week I'm sure I'll fire up the old Skyscanner.

Departure: LAX
Arrival: Anywhere