Here I am.

Whoah, first night was.. adventureous. I came to Coppenhagen through Malmo. I have seen some Hungarian manager looking guys, but they were almost agressively barking at me when I asked if I am on the right bus towards Malmo Central Station from the airport. Gee, I expected some more homeland cooperation whatever. I guess it was kinda cruel of me afterwards that I have not warned them when they got off the same bus 2 stops early in Malmo... I think I had the most nasty smile in town watching them through the window of the passing bus. I already knew what they were to find out in minutes: next bus comes in an hour, and they also miss the train to Coppehagen. What comes around goes around I guess.

So I arrived in town. No booked room.. fuck this. Its could, but the station is cosy. I am fighter! I thought I will spend the night wondering around downtown, getting a bit of a taste of Coppenhagen with a 30kg pack (the cruel type that you cant put on your back).

Fighter? Huh! Well guys, I must admit, I thought wrong... evening was chilly even for a fighter like me, especially when I learned they are closing the station for good at 1 at night.
I met an irish guy. He had no money, no place to stay, no cigarette to smoke (something he complained about for minutes before learning I dont smoke)... but he had an accent, a lousy set of clothes. Oh and he had a plan for the night. He was going to buy a flight ticket home with his moms credit card... HUH?!

I guess if you are homeless and 41, wondering around Europe with empty pockets, trying to find a way to use your moms credit card to buy ticket home and your stories start: "I got arrested because..."... well mate than I guess you fucked something up very bad. Added to this this poor guy was irish! God, HOW MANY BLOWS MUST A MAN TAKE?! (ok it was kinda cruel, sorry to all irish). Anyway I can tell you this guy fucked it up.

He actually knew a place, some courtyard where some big backdoors are open and warm air sneaks out on the street from some garages.. my little irish was like: "its dry on the floor, you can even lie down". For a second I imagined myself there on the floor in some oil-dust on my bag with all the fancy stuff I brought, using my brand new LG laptop as a pillow (one from Dubai).. and I could feel... I could sense... I could almost here myself... than I did say it: There is no way on earth I am going to do this. I cought a cab, and asked for the cheapest hotel the Afro-Danish guy knew.
It turned out that he had a hungarian girlfriend -that might save me a couple of koronas I thought- than at a certain point when I was almost sure he loves hungarians (me at least for the moment) he said: Her family could not accept a black man, so she left me like a piece of shit. My discount for the drop disappeared with the speed of light along with my sense of humor for the night.

I spent 80 Euros for the first night hotel (that hurt my budget), which was really nice and they told me all I should know about the city..