Kind of surpricing...

Look who's living downstairs of my younger brother and his wife.

Swans

I passed the lake Damhussøen while cycling today. I'll probably be doing the same a couple of times per week over the next months as it seems like I've got myself a part-time job.

Even though there's still ice at parts of the lake, the swans and the sun made it very clear that spring is finally here. And though I've only been back for a few weeks, I believe I feel as relieved as all the Danes who's suffered in Denmark the entire winter. I managed to overcome my enormous fright for (living) birds to click a picture.

Spring has actually been on its way for a couple of days. The other day I caught one of the most classic signs of spring: hot air balloons passing my balcony. Spring in Denmark is amazingly beautiful when it's sunny.

Saving the world...

I never got to write much about Bombay – mainly because it was a very happening visit, I hardly had the time (admitted, indeed a luxury problem). But a lot of things did happen – also things that are worth (and suitable) for writing about …

In my 10 years of travelling in India, this was my first visit to Bombay – Delhi has always been my city, so I didn’t want to go till I had friends to show me around. For the same reason, I still haven’t been to Calcutta and Chennai (aka Madras) either. Four days in Bombay made it pretty clear, though, that it wasn’t my last stay there. I love the ambience, the coast line, the colors, the combination of old colonial style and Indian every day modern chaos and hecticness. I love that you can stroll around the streets (very unusual for an Indian city) and of course the fact that you can get into a taxi, tell your destination and then getting driven there directly and pay the meter price (no bargaining no nothing)…

My good friend AD had taken it upon him, to make sure Laila and I had a great time in Bombay. He gave me an epic tour in the night life, excellent ideas for sights to see, places to eat and shop. And he coordinated with my other Bombay friends, so I also got to see them. I was absolutely right – it made so much sense to wait visiting Bombay till I had friends there. It’s hard to believe anybody could have got a better introduction to the city than I did.

AD had also arranged that we went to P.K’s birthday (another of my rafting friends). He had invited for a Sunday afternoon party – by the way totally my kind of parties. You arrive around noon and have a full-blown party, including drinks (lots of them), dancing, great food, more drinks, small talk, and whatever else you need – all in full daylight. Around six, the party’s over so everybody can get back home, relax, sober up etc and then be ready for work next morning. I love parties. I love this concept!!

At the party, I got to talk to one of the guests, a designer. He asked me what I was doing and I told him the story about how I had quit my job and gone travelling and getting to know the world. I’ve told this story several times before and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it. He then asked me, what I’d been doing before and continued (when he was told about my clerky past): “Are you brainy?” – “Yes” (you get more interesting conversations by making clearcut statements).  “I mean really really brainy?” Again: ”yes”. ”Mensa-brainy?” ”Well I’d never want to become a member, but it’s about that level…” And then the highly surprising response: “If you are that brainy, how come you aren’t busy saving the world? The world needs people with your intelligence to start saving it” Perhaps he was right. But where do you start if you want to save the world?

Missing people but not things...

One of my reasons to give myself a year of travelling was that so far in my travelling life, I haven’t experienced missing getting back home. I’ve heard other people saying how they enjoyed their holiday, but also really appreciated being home again. I’ve never felt that way. On the contrary, it’s always been: what  a great holiday, when can I go again? Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate being home – absolutely, but I feel best when interchanging between Denmark and not-Denmark. Hence, I wanted to see whether I would start miss being home if I went away for longer. Well, I did! But perhaps still not the same way as the others I told about.

I’ve had a wonderful time missing friends and family in Denmark, while being away. Which I have. A lot. In a nice way. I’ve had several fictional conversations with friends back home about important (or unimportant) issues. Looked forward to getting back playing with the wonderful kids that are in my life. Been somewhere at a certain time and felt that it would have been perfect sharing that moment with some of the important people in my life.

But I haven’t missed Denmark – well, the light nights and the new potatoes, but there haven’t been many of those while I’ve been away. Danish politics, annoying tv, grumpy people everywhere, all those lucky people that don’t even appreciate all we got, just by being Danish. That I haven’t missed. Not at all.

I’m enjoying getting back to spring. Having erased winter (though it has made an effort to stay around till I was back). Seeing how all the Danes are coming out of their hibernation, and as flowers turn their faces towards the sun. Listening to the birds returning from winter exile. Smelling the spring. The Danish spring sun has its very own very clean scent. All this I’m enjoying. But very well aware that when the days are getting shorter and darkness fights the light, then the migratory bird is back and I just want to escape to warmer and more adventurous (and distant) parts of world…

Reflections

As mentioned in an earlier post, I’m back in Denmark. My year of travelling has gone (time flies, when you’re having fun) and a bit more – I ended up spending 13 months on the adventurous track in and outside of Denmark. 

And now I’m back home looking for a job while trying to find a way to take the best things and learnings of the past year along. So it feels like now is a good time for reflections on what has happened the past year.  I believe this will lead to several blog posts. A year like that can’t be described fully in one post – not a short one anyways. Today's about missing people and things.

Happy Holi

Holi was last Wednesday. The 27th – fairly bad timing as my Indian visa expired the very same date, why I had already left the country a few days before.

Anyways, Holi is by far my favourite Hindu festival. Perhaps my all-time favourite religious festival (if it’s possible to have favourites in that category). Because of its craziness and colours all photographers love it as well – it’s almost impossible to take bad snaps at Holi. Holi is celebrating that a Hindu god (one of Vishnu’s incarnations) escaped a demon trying to burn him. The god survived the flames, which were celebrated with colours. Hence, colours are the festival of colours. 

At Holi you should remember to wear old clothes, or at least clothes you don’t mind change colours… Also, it is a good idea to stay away from crowded public areas – not all stick to herbal (and hence safe) colours.

As mentioned, I were already back in Denmark at Holi, but luckily a group of guests in camp had decided to celebrate holi early, so I did get a taste… (I’ve also brought a few holi colours back for my non god kids, which we’re going to use this summer, when the weather has (hopefully) got warmer. 

I have of course played (as it is called) Holi in India in other years, e.g. I spent my 30th birthday in camp on Holi itself (notice the combination of coloured powder and whipped cream in my face):

So of course, I have also written a letter about Holi  - 7 years ago in 2006, when I stayed half a year with Inger in her farm house in Southern Delhi (a long long story, I might tell some other time).

“Holi has been on its way for about a week. First, the shops started offering incredible amounts of colours, water balloons and water guns. Then, a couple of days ago, I saw the first pink guy, and Sunday I made my own preparations by buying a kilo colour powder in red, yellow, green and purple. The night before Holi lots of small fires where lit all around town, symbolising the fight against the flames and on the streets you could see the results of the pre-Holi games: pink, green, yellow, blue people cycling home as if it was perfectly normal to be coloured.

And finally it started! Holi is mainly celebrated in the morning and we had our first visitors already around 9 am. I was prepared, wearing old clothes and fully armed with all my colours, I entered the garden. A few seconds later I were attacked by our guests, completely covered with colours (including in eyes and mouth…) topped off with a bucket of water over me to make sure the colours really stuck.

That was the start of a gigantic hour long colour/water fight in the garden, complemented by loud music and beers – according to tradition you celebrate holi (at least) tipsy.

Our gardener had taken tipsy to a new level and was extremely entertaining all day. By hiding under a tree and throwing colours at anyone passing by. By sitting in the kitchen watching his hands to figure out whether they were working. And finally by falling asleep in the driveway, sandals off and hands folded on his chest. He was rather quiet when he got up this morning.

Holi is so smartly organised that it is a day festival so everybody can get a shower and sleep off their buzz before going to work next morning. Though I’ve tried to wash Holi away, I still got very pink eyebrows as do the streets still have visible signs of Holi (nothing like a blue cow).“

Worn out

I left my faithful Ecco sandals in India. I’ve used them almost every day the past year – and they were very well worn. I left them with the boys in camp and they’re already being fixed so someone else can use them. And as goes for me – I still got tanned stripes on my feet reminding me of them.