_.

So... I give up. With the journal. At least until I get home. I just dont have time (or money, damn you crazyexpensive netcafes!) to write more journals.

What went by in the last week can pretty much be summed with this:

Went to Barcelona. Got drunk. Got hit on by hooker.

Went to Milan. Met ~martasmarta. Walked around and did crazy portrait in photobooth. Stayed in 1-starred hotel, got out of there alive.

Went to Bern. Got bored. Went to Zurich. Met up with =ComeWatchMyArt. Got drunk. Accidentally walked into stripbar.

Went to Lugano. Met up with ~ASilentMelody. Got my 13th McDonalds-meal on the trip. Went back to Zurich. Got my 14th.

Went to Vienna. Met up with ~azrael3000. Ate Nutella. Met up with ~zort and ~Sugarman. Had a cup of chocolate and discussed the finer arts of tongue-twisters. Got my 15th McDonalds-meal.

And now Im at an internetcafe on some sideroad in Vienna, about to walk out and make the streets unsafe yet again.

Tomorrow morning I am heading to Bratislava, Slovakia (arriving at 11:10), then back to Vienna in the evening, and then Im jumping on a homebound train.

Eek, its almost over! And nothing bad has happened to me yet!

...I jinxed it. Sh*t.

- Lasse




Day 20:

Current location:Basement, Paris.

Next location:Eiffel Tower

After waking up in the most expensive two-star hotel in all of Paris (it was more than my three nights in Prague combined!), putting on my smelly boots and three day old t-shirt, yanking my batterycharger from the powerplug, nearly ripping out the crumbly wall with it, I made my way down four floors of creaky, dirty staircases, turned in my key, walked through the busted glass in the front door, and took a deep breath;

I was in Paris. City of love. Which the line of overly made-up french prostitutes across the street was proof of.

What's the first thing you do when you go to France? That's right: you go to the trainstation and find yourself a couple of crazy people to spend the day with. In this case, *hyperized, who I missed in Amsterdam, and a russian chick he had brought with him (okay, she was actually lithuanian, but... potato/potato.)

We walked around town for a couple of hours, the dutch and myself getting dragged up and down mighty staircases by the way too energetic russian, and managed to walk right past the hotel they had booked a room in, without ever noticing it, thus ending up in the complete other side of Paris, looking at the map, checking the address, resulting in massive amounts of facepalming.

After dropping off bags at their hotelroom, and me getting a room in the same hotel as them (how nice and creepy and stalkerish, I know), we were off to see one of the largest phallic monuments in the world -
the Eiffel Tower.

A few soldiers were guarding the base of the tower, probably due to recent terrorist threats to the tower, and as Gerben, the dutchman and myself were in the company of a supporter of the Red Army, we were naturally slightly concerned, but eventually made it past checkpoints and all the way to the top.

It was pretty.

Spent my hard-earned money on some ridiculously overpriced pieces of triangular metal, and we were off to our next target: the Statue of Liberty. 2. Or Mini. Or something.

Apparently the guy who made the Statue of Liberty in New York City was so proud of his work that he decided to make miniature version of it. And then another one. And one of them, he decided to put on a very small and narrow island in Paris.

What do you know - I go to Paris and end up with a classic post-card photo of New York.

Did you know that you can go to all sorts of places in the world without ever leaving Paris? We managed to go from Paris to Rome and back to Paris again in 1.3 seconds - and later walked around Stalingrad before realizing why they gave the area that name, and rushed back behind the metal bars of the metro-station to go back to the center of Paris.

Next stop: Notre Dame. And a very odd encounter. As I was having a conversation with the russian (if she reads this, she'll be sitting at her desk with her fists clenched at this point, knuckles white, screaming "LITHUANIAN!". So typically russian), a peculiar fellow slowly walked over to us and stood right next to me, nearly leaning up against me, looking at me. I stopped talking, turned to him, waiting for him to ask me whatever question he had, but he just looked back and forth between me and the girl with a smile on his face.

"Continue." he said, gesturing with his hand. I gave him an strange look, turned back, and we continued our conversation. He stood next to us, nodding, shaking his head, and using other ways to be part of a conversation without actually opening his mouth.

He then turned and walked over to another couple of tourists, standing there, quiet, nodding and shaking his head, while the tourists exchanged looks.

Turns out even Paris has loonies!

I felt at home once again.


- Lasse


Day 19:

Current location: Luxembourg, Luxembourg.

Next location: Paris, France

Got to Luxembourg. Took some pictures. Had some pizza.

Went to Paris.


(Don't go to Luxembourg)


- Lasse


Day 18:

Current location: Really cozy internetcafe (with FREE hot chocolate!), Bruxelles, Belgium.

Next location: Luxembourg, Luxembourg

Arrived at the central train station in Bruxelles last night at midnight, realizing that maybe, just maybe, going to another city in the middle of the night is not the best of ideas. Everything was closed, and I had no idea where to go.

As usual. Man, when will I ever learn.

Quickly flagged down a guy crossing the street and asked him if he knew any hostels nearby - which he luckily did, and offered to lead me to it. We started talking, and he asked me where I was from. My reply was, of course, "Denmark", after which he stopped, turned and went "Then why the hell are we speaking english?" - in danish. What are the odds.

Turned out the hostel was open - for 15 minutes longer after I arrived. Looks like someones luck has turned, huh?

Talked to girl who was sitting at the bar, waiting for a computer... Asked me where I was from. "Denmark". - "Then why the hell are we speaking english?". Again, what are the odds?

Ended up sharing a room with an italian guy named Abel who was in town for a jobinterview. Nice guy. If you ever meet him, buy him a cup of coffee.

Woke up the next day, nice and rested (actually not at all, my feet hurt like hell, and I couldnt stretch out my legs completely), dropped off my backpack in a locker, armed my belt with lens-bags like another photojournalistic Rambo and went out the gates, ready to take on the Belgians and all their chocolate, waffles and statues of pissing boys (one of their national treasures is actually a statue of a little boy. Taking a piss into a pond. I rest my case.)

This is where I would usually write a funny, tragic and entertaining story about how I got completely screwed over by someone or something and ended up in a sewer, hospital or container on a ship to Cuba.

But guess what.

Nothing happened. I got the biggest amount of portraits I had ever gotten in a single day, enjoyed a belgian waffle with strawberries and whippedcream, and walked around town with a sense of success.

Who would ever have thought?

Sure I got harrassed by a couple of little gypsy-kids who came running over, shaking their empty money-cups in my face as I tried to enjoy my god damn waffle in peace, and I managed to stuff my entire face with sliced onions, salad and garlic dressing (even managed to get the latter in my eyebrows, looking like a friggin Gandalf-knockoff) while trying to eat a ridiculously big falafel, but other than that, no big f*ckups today!

Either my luck has turned, or whatever controls my destiny is just saving up all the little incidents for one major f*ckup.

Just wait and see. One of these days Ill be writing my update from the basement in a Columbian drugcartel deep in the southamerican jungle, taken prisoner, and typing with my one remaining finger.

I just know it.

I got back to my hostel, where all the remaining beds had been taken, and got sent off to another hostel in a middleeastern part of town.

Kinda creepy. Got escorted by friendly 7-11 owner.

Lived to tell the tale.


- Lasse


Day 17 (I think):

Current location: Amsterdam, Holland

Next location: Bruxelles, Belgium

There. Im healthy.

Back up on the horse!

Everything started out as planned on my second attempt at the Holy Sh*t Tour 2008, and I was soon on my way to Amsterdam with a direct train from Denmark, sharing cabin with a couple of japanese people (always so nice and polite, gotta give that to you guys).

As people who have travelled longdistance by train before know, the traincabin is a small room with 6 seats, 3 on each side, and a couple of luggage-compartments above. The two asians, despite their politeness, had come first and taken 4 of the 6 seats - one guy was sitting at the window on the left side, while the other had laid down and taken all 3 seats on the right.

Since I was planning on sleeping at least a little bit during the 15-hour trip, and it is close to impossible to get comfortable while sitting up in one of these seats, this was rather unfortunate.

I made my move and beat the other jap to the seat between us, and curled up into an awkward position with my head on the middle seat, ass on the seat to the right, and legs pointing straight upwards leaning against the window to the hallway, giving passers-by a hint of what to expect in Amsterdams Red Light District.

It was glorious.

After spending a couple of hours falling asleep (I am in no way a flexible person, so I cant say I was completely comfortable in my pornmovie-like position), I suddenly woke up with an omnious feeling - my throat was hurting again. Badly.

I popped a few pills from my backpack with the remainder of my Fanta (there was no shop onboard the train, and the bathroom-water isnt meant to be drank, so bringing enough liquid on long trips is a must - now you know kids, after Uncle Lasse here learned it the hard way), and went back to sleep with my fingers crossed. I was not gonna let the damn bronchitis send me home once more.

I somehow managed to fall back asleep, but was soon woken up by the sound of the japs packing up to leave. Didnt take more than a couple of seconds from when they shut the door to the cabin, till I had redistributed my bodymass across all three seats and fallen fast asleep, getting to sleep a good 7 hours before I had to get off the train in Amsterdam.

Or so I thought.

Something bad just had to happen. You were all waiting for it. I know. This wouldnt be a good story if I didnt manage to get in trouble, would it?

"WAKE UP!"

I sat up immediately, confused and still half asleep, and opened my eyes only to be blinded by the bright ceiling-lights that the train-conductor had just switched on.

"YOU HAVE TO LEAVE THE TRAIN IMMEDIATELY! NO QUESTIONS!", he continued, way too loud for a person who had just woken up. He gave me a mean stare and left the cabin. "Amsterdam?" I yelled after him through the open cabindoor, and got a quick "YES!" back.

As I speed-packed my stuff, I overheard the conversation in the next cabin, this time in german - someone asked the same question I did, but was met with a "NO, DUISBURG!", and I was confused.

I heard some english down the hallway and ended up linking up with three students who were just as confused as I was.

We left the train along with the rest of the passengers in the same traincart, but walking along the train to the infokiosk, I noticed that all the other carts were still full.

It later left the station with all but one of its carts full. No one ever gave us an explanation.

I bet it was because I was on the train. Who ever is out there, keeping an eye on my progress, must have thought that I was doing a little too good already and decided to screw with me.

No, I am not paranoid.

Thats just what they want you to think.

. . .

So anyway. I managed to get on another train two hours later, missing my meeting with a person from dA.

Great. I was standing in a major city with no idea where to go or what to do.

Just the way I like it.

7 minutes later I had a Big Mac in my hand - you can never go wrong with a Big Mac.

Walked around Amsterdam for a couple of hours, wrapped in the sweet smell of marijuana from the hundreds of coffeeshops around every corner. Watched a couple of guys laughing hysterically over a flashing neonlight in a shopwindow. Decided not to have a go at the local spacemuffins.

Happy now, mom?

Met up with =gONZOm and after having looked at my citymap for a while, we finally picked up the courage to ask a woman about the way to the Red Light District. And then the Heineken Museum.

As Gonzalo said - "First we ask for sex, then we ask for alcohol."

I couldnt resist to add "Its gonna be a good night", and we quickly thanked the poor lady and scurried off.

The museum was unfortunately closed, but the Red Light District luckily never sleeps. It was a surreal experience, walking past the red windows with either VERY attractive women, or VERY unattractive wo(men?) looking at you from all sides, trying to lure you in. None of them had what it took to get me or Gonzalo in the door.

The Erotic Museum, however, did.

Five euros and half an hour later, Gonzalo is now the lucky owner of a photo with me posing as an SM-woman.

I on the other hand, have a picture of him posing with a 7 foot penis.

Its a fair trade.

After exploring a souvenirshop, we saw eachother off, and I was off to the train station to catch a train to Bruxelles, Belgium.

It didnt leave for another hour, so before leaving the city, I decided to go back to the Red Light District to catch another glimpse of this particularly cute girl I had walked past earlier.

Who turned out to be a man.

. . .

No questions.

- Lasse


Day 6:

Current location: Hospital

Next location: Home

As I was writing the last couple of lines of my previous journal entry, I felt my vision starting to get blurry - you know the feeling when you've sat down for a long time, then suddenly get to your feet, and for a moment everything gets blurry and strange? Like that, only it kept getting worse and worse. In an almost Days Of Our Lives-like way, I took a few steps back from the computer I was standing at, located in the middle of the hotel lobby, pulling out my earphones as the music got louder without ever touching the volume, desperately waving my hands around, searching for something to hold on to...

Wham. The feeling of my hip and shoulder hitting the marble lobby floor was the next thing I remember. I opened my eyes, sight returning to normal, and started breathing very fast... I couldn't move or speak - or rather, I didn't want to move or speak - and just laid there. After what seemed like forever, an older guy from the hotel staff came running over, looking at me horrified, pointing to my chest, then his, then mine again. I shook my head and made a wild gesture with my hands over my head, which... well it made perfect sense at the time.

A woman came running from outside the hotel, asking me if I spoke english, telling me that she was a local nurse, grabbing my legs and lifting them into the air to get blood back to my head. A couple of moments later, there was a flash of blue from the entrance and two guys dressed in bright orange joined us, one talking briefly to the nurse, then asking me to explain what had happened. I did so, and he nodded and got up.

His friend poked him on the shoulder, then showed him the computer, which was still logged into my deviantART-account.

The next 3-4 minutes, they stood there, reading my journal, as I lay helplessly on the marble floor, my whole body buzzing - like when your leg's asleep, only everywhere - just staring at them in disbelief.

The computer then automatically changed back to the hotel's website, and the two medics turned around, looking at me with a slight hint of confusion, having seemingly forgotten what they were even doing in the first place, before finally putting me in a wheelchair and maneuvering me upstairs to my room to get my passport and travel insurance.

After a long battle with the semi-broken keycard-reader to my door (I had only complained about it four times before), we got into my room, and I felt slightly uncomfortable. Clothes everywhere, blood on the bathroomfloor, a pair of dirty boxershorts on top of the TV (which was, of course, still on and showing yet another german-dubbed episode of the Xena Warrior Princess marathon) and a bottle of booze lying on the pillow (I SWEAR, it was for a friend! And unopened! Really!). Finally got my passport and papers and handed it to the medics, and as they were rolling me backwards out of the post-apocalyptic scenery known as my hotelroom, I turned and looked at the english-speaking medic with a raised finger: "One second. Just... one second."

I got out of the wheelchair and carelessly strolled across the room where I found my camera, changed the lens to wideangle, put in a newly charged battery, and after checking the power, I walked back towards a bewildered-looking medic and sat back down in the wheelchair.

"Okay, go."

As the ambulance made its way to the hospital in a completely unneccesary, dramatic way (I think the driver got a kick out of the flashing blue lights), I had a quick little chat with the other medic in the back. "You prezz-photografff?". "No, where would you get such a silly idea from?", I replied.

Then I took a picture of him.

Arriving at the hospital, they told me to sit down in the waitingroom until a doctor came to see me.

After spending nearly two hours listening to the ramblings of a crazy, old czech lady, it was finally my turn.

May I just remind you, that the main reason why I passed out was probably due to the fact that I hadn't had anything to eat since 7 in the morning. When they finally let me in, it was almost 8 in the evening.

I was lead to a small bed by a nurse in a very (very) short skirt - I swear, I didn't want to find out she wasn't wearing any underwear, it just kinda happened - and told to take off my shirt and lie down. After spraying a Cillit Bang-like liquid onto my torso, she attached a series of suctioncups down the left side of my chest, added a pin to the right side, and put wires on my fingers, wrists and ancles. I looked like something out of an Alien movie (acidy spit excepted of course, though that would have been kinda cool... And probably come in handy.)

After lying half-naked and drenched in Cillit Bang in the cold examinationroom for what felt like an eternity, a male doctor suddenly entered the room - the first to speak to me, and in english too!

"I'm sorry, but there's been a mistake. You'll be taken to Pediatrics by an assistant in a short while. I apologize for your inconvenience."

What?

So... I was taken to Pediatrics. By an assistant who was almost too interested in my camera. "How-a much? In-a czech crowns, yes?" - "About 25,000, I think." - "That like car! Small car... old-a, small car. Veddy old-a, small car... but car!".

After spending another half hour listening to a screaming czech baby (you probably won't believe me, but I swear I could hear the Borat-like accent), I was stabbed in the finger by a nurse, and after waiting yet another twenty minutes for the results, the doctor gave me the following diagnosis:

"You're fine. Your bloodsugar probably just got a bit low, so just get something to eat and you'll be fine."

Perfect. So after nearly three hours of driving, waiting, getting Cillit-Banged and stabbed, their conclusion is that all I need to do, is go back to the hotel and eat. Fine.

Only two problems: the hotel's restaurant closed ten minutes prior. And I didn't bring money. Or warm clothes.

Result?

Walking home. On an empty stomach. In -10 degrees celcius. Without scarf, gloves, hat or money for bus or metro. But no need to feel sorry for me.

It was only 4 miles anyway.

(I really, really hope the sarcasm in that statement goes through).

I finally got home, cold, hungry and exhausted, and to my great surprise, the restaurant was still open! Absolutely busted, I crashed in a chair at the table next to a bunch of kids - one of which was the kid who let me be heroic and carry his injured friend up to his room earlier - and took off my jacket, stomach growling after seeing what they were having. A waiter approached me, and as I raised my hands to receive the menu, I was met with the following statement: "Sorry sir, this is a private party. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Luckily they had premade sandwiches in the bar.

I had two. And gave the bartender a tip big enough to buy a small aircraft.


- Lasse


Day 5:

Current location: Prague, Czech Republic (still)

Next location: Vienna, Austria. Station: Südbahnhof, 09:28. Hopefully.

Spent the last 11 hours tucked in bed, sleeping and watching Days Of Our Lives... dubbed in German. Then two episodes of Digimon, also dubbed in German. Then some more dart-championship on Eurosport.

Canada got beat by Holland.

Was caught screaming at the tv over a bad dart throw from the canadian by the roomservice-lady, who had completely ignored my Do Not Disturb sign.

F*ck.

She put clean towels on my bed, then headed for the bathroom as I almost fully covered my head in the blankets, expecting ragnarok to ensue any second.

Lady disappears into bathroom. Comes back out. Looks at me, then looks at floor, then back at me. Says something incomprehensible in czech. I point with fingers on my nose, then make wild, explosion-like gestures. She looks back at bathroomfloor, then back to me and made a sweeping-gesture with her hands. I nod and put on very thankful face.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am still allowed access to Hotel Globus, Prague.

Celebrated by getting myself another nosebleed and covering the shower in blood, just for the sake of adversity.

My health is is improving - no more pain in my throat, still coughing a little, along with a slight fever and headache, and a massive stuffed nose.

Gotta get myself something to eat now. My vision is started to blur and my legs are shaking.

Hopefully tomorrow's journal will be from Vienna!


Cheers, Lasse



Day 4:

Current location: Prague, Czech Republic

Next location: Vienna, Austria. Station: Südbahnhof, 09:25.

Thank god for Do Not Disturb signs. Have had one on the doorhandle for the last 24 hours despite desperate need of toiletpaper. Which is partially also the reason for the first statement.

First of all I want to make clear that this has nothing to do with anal spewings (can't believe I just wrote that... can you actually say that or did I just make it up?), but rather nasal ones. Decided to blow stuffed nose as the first thing when I got up. Ended up having the entire bathroomfloor, toilet, sink, hands, shirt, pants and socks covered in blood. I have an issue with nosebleeds. They are my one flaw (yes, one and only. The rest is on purpose), and I get them pretty easily. This was, however, the first time in my life where massive amount of blood shot out of BOTH nostrils at the SAME TIME! Even got photos to document it (I don't call myself a photographer for no reason you know).

Conclusion: Dried in blood on floor and walls will most likely result in lifelong ban from Hotel Globus. Pity, it was such a nice hotel.

Got nose under control after long fight, got breakfast, dressed and finally ran out the door with lots of small bills in my wallet to pay off innocent homeless people as I captured their soul with my demonmachine.

First stop: Prague international trainstation.

Upon my arrival to the city, I noticed a lot of homeless people at this station, and sure enough, they were still there.

Found myself a bearded, old grumpy looking fella and handed him a note I had gotten the receptionist in the hotel to write for me: "Can I do picture of you? Thank you" - literally translated. Very handy to have with me, really. Got the man to follow me to the window for the light, and after he had put down his bags of godknowswhat behind a wall, he let me take a couple of photos. For some extra money of course. You know, as I just made him walk the extra 17 meters to the window.

He DID use crutches though, it was only fair.

I thanked him with a nod, he growled and turned to get back to his bags. What followed, however, was not expected.

Some other old homeless gent had decided to risk it and grabbed ol' Grumpy's bags while his back was turned. As he tried to run away going approximately 0.003 mph, Grumpy picked up the pace with his crutches flailing wildly to the sides, screaming at the other man as he closed in behind him. The man turned around with a look of terror in his face, as Grumpy swung his right crutch and hit him with an audible WHAM in the ass, followed by a combo of crutchattacks on back, shoulders and knees.

I looked around, and after checking that no one was watching, slowly backed out of the door of the trainstation and disappeared into the streets of Prague.

Prague really isn't that bad, you know. Temperature had risen, and even though it was raining pretty heavily at times, I was in a pretty good mood. As in swinging around lightpoles, Dancing In The Rain style.

Afterall, I HAD just watched a bumfight, right?

Got another portrait of a nice, but rather confused passers-by on the street, so now my quota is back up to date.

Also... I forgot to mention, that on my way to Prague, I shared my cabin with an extremely nice chinese couple (gave me water for my pills and even turned off the cabinlight to let me sleep), before the obnoxious polish people took over half an hour later.

Well guess who I bumped into on a corner of downtown Prague.

What are the odds?

Remember the note I mentioned I had the receptionist write me? It fell out of my pocket when I pulled out my glove. And into a pretty damn deep hole in the street, where someone decided to plant a tree.

People seemed rather amused as someone got down on his stomach on the soaked pavement, in the rain, and stuck his head and arms into a hole, supposedly making out with treeroots.

I got the note though. Only it was wet. Half of the words had been erased by the water, leaving only the odd combination of something that seemed to look like "Can I do u k".

Decided to not risk awkward confrontations with willing bums and threw the effer back down into the hole to try its luck on the treeroots instead.

Note to europeans: T.G.I. Friday's is NOT a cheap fastfoodplace. I learned this the hard way, my friends. 12 euros for a burger? Shite. Burger WAS bigger than both my fists though, and served with fries, so I forgive them for their false advertising.

Also happened to get into a small chat with two americans, Chris and Alex (hope I got the names right, they got the link to this website), which turned into a 3-hour conversation with everything from drunken tales to anti-missile shields on Greenland. Nice to finally have someone to talk to - if there's anyone living in Prague reading this, tell all your friends to LEARN HOW TO SPEAK-A ENGELISCH! Or danish, at least!

If you guys ever read this by the way - thanks for the brewski! Made the subway a whole lot more fun, especially when the train crowded up and people were forced to enjoy my charming breath!

That's it for today. Going back up to my hotelroom to get a couple of hours' sleep, before I have to get up at 3:30 to make the 5:00 train to Vienna.

Oh, and throat is better. Sorta. At least I won't die anytime soon!

Actually, one more thing. Just happened two minutes ago while I was writing an email. Very pale kid came running up to me, speaking very fast, very loud and very, very russian, after which he dragged me from the computer and out into the street.

Apparently his friend had had a bad fall and couldn't walk, and they needed help carrying him. Ended up with this incredibly muscular dane carrying the guy, by myself, up to flights of stairs.

Turns out I got to be a little heroic today too.


- Lasse


Day 3:

Current location: Globus Hotel´s lobby, Prague, Czech Republic.

Next destination: Bed.

If day one started out bad, I would say day 3 takes the cake. Worst day in 2008 so far.

Got on the train to Prague after leaving the netcafe yesterday and found myself stuck in a traincabin with three very loud, very obnoxious and very drunk polish people. There should be a law against using an mp3-player phone with loud speakers in public space. Especially when I am in the public space. And ESPECIALLY if its used to play polish hardcore death rap.

As the hours went by, my throat started to hurt more and more and I caught a fever. When the train finally rolled into Prague, I had been without sleep for 27 hours, food for 12 and my legs were shaking from fever.

Did you know that there is nowhere you can withdraw cash in Pragues main train station? Yeah, me neither.

After walking aimlessly around for half an hour at the station, I collapsed on the stairs where I spent a good 40 minutes staring at the ceiling (which was actually kinda pretty, I took a picture of it) and trying to figure out how to get out of the mess.

Finally decided to find a money-exchange and let go of my last euros for half of what they were worth, saw a sign that told me to take the metro to the nearest hostel (which was exactly what I needed, as I was running on my very last energy), and I was off.

5 hours later, I collapsed once again on the floor of the metro and started crying. This was not my day. No one in the neighbourhood had ever heard of a hostel, and no one knew where to find one. Thanks a lot, Prague!

Finally pulled myself together. Got up and walked outside. Started coughing like I was gonna die. Spat on the ground. Snow turned red.

Decided to find doctor.

I was told by a hotelmanager that since I was from Europe, healthcare would be free, so I shouldnt worry about it. I finally found one, and after discussing with a nurse whether or not I was a homeless person, I was let into the clinic.

"Shirt. Up. Yes. Cough."

I cough once, which triggered a pure coughing frenzy, and the doctors smile faded.

"Bad. Veddy, veddy bad."

Concluded that I had managed to get myself a nice case of bronchitis (throat infection), asked me if I had penicillin and paracetamol, which I did already, then wrote me a bill for 1857 czech crowns. Which is roughly around 100 dollars.

I looked at him, then the bill, then back to him, and lost my temper.

"YOU WANT THAT MUCH MONEY?! FOR WHAT? TELLING ME THAT I AM SICK?! I KINDA ALREADY KNEW THAT, YOU...YOU... PIZDA!"

(Remember I learned how to say dick in polish yesterday? Never thought it would come in handy so quickly.)

I wanted to leave, cause I did not have the cash, but they took my passport from me and forced me to go down to the nearest cash machine, where I withdrew no less than 2000 ck, marched back and shoved it in his face.

He laughed and gave me back 1800.

I stared at him for a second, then the nurse, then the thick stack of money in my hand, and felt kinda stupid.

I still have the bill though. In fact I am looking at it right now. 1857. Now dots or commas.

Crazy europeans.

I went back out into the cold and found a McDonalds where I passed out in a chair. Then I suddenly noticed some familiar words coming from around the corner - a couple of american guys were playing chess. In a McDonalds. In the Czech Republic.

No further questions.

Had a quick talk to one of them, and ended up getting a Lonely Planet guide from him, where he marked off a good hotel on a map over Prague.

He has no idea that he may have just saved my life.

Now I am about to go back to my hotelroom, pop some pills, get into the warm bed and continue watching the Zena Warrior Princess marathon they got going on some german channel. Dubbed, of course. Good thing its one of those shows where you dont actually listen to anything they are saying anyway.

If theres anyone out there in the city who wants to meet up (I will be here tomorrow too), either note me tonight and I will check tomorrow, or find me at Globus Hotel, room 124

- Lasse


Day 2:

Current location:Funky internetcafe in the polish underground, Warzsawa, Poland.

Next destination:Prague, Czech Republic. Station: Praha HL. N., 06:45.

On the way to the trainstation, in the Berlin metro, I was going up an escalator as a small, eastern-looking fella was descending the stairs to my left. As he went past me, he yelled something I didn't hear, and turned around, as we both went to a standstill on each end of the stairs. "SPRACHEN SIE ENGLISH BITTE!" was the only thing that I could come up with. He came walking back up the stairs, slowly, smiling in a peculiar way.

Ended up having a nice little chat with him. I didn't really understand his german and he didn't really understand my english, but somewhere in the conversation I believe I was told that he did not want a picture taken, as he was a bodyguard. With drugs. For druggies. With a big car. Undercover cop. Something more about drugs. "So... you... hetero or gay?", I had no problem understanding. Nice of him to try and speak english. Shook his hand, said bye, went to bathroom to wash hands.

I ended up enjoying a ham, cheese and pineapple (sandwich of the month in some weird trainstation-sandwich-store-store) for breakfast, before getting on the train to Warszawa, Poland.

Big, bald, muscular polish guy sat across from me, in a cabin so small, our knees were practically spooning. Oh, did I mention it was just me and him in the cabin? Oh yeah. Good times.

I woke up two hours later with my mouth wide open, dried in drool on my left cheek, and feet burning up in my winterboots as SOMEONE had turned the heat up to maximum. THANKS BALDY.

It was nice to lose the boots actually. But... yeah.

Many hours later, I arrived at Warszawa. I got out the door and noticed a boy and a girl looking around for someone. Could it be? As I slowly got closer, I got eyecontact with the girl, pointed at me, then her, then back to me (in a non I-want-you-lets-get-out-and-get-drunk-and-hump way. It was a friendly point. I swear.)

Turns out it was two people from dA - Maxa and Adam - who decided to try their luck and meet up with this crazy dane. And thank god for that - otherwise I would have been completely lost.

10 minutes went by, and woops, portrait number 2 was safe. 20 minutes more and woooops, number 3! Half an hour - number 4! Damn, I was on a roll.

Figured I had done enough for the day and went to enjoy a hot chocolate with coconut in a cute little cafe with a crazy homeless girl who went around and asked people for money, even though the waitresses kept pushing her around and shouting at her.

I learned to say "dick" in polish today!

And "Your mother!"

I say this with a sense of pride. I'm the worldly type. I like to be able to talk to people whereever I go, in their own language if possible, and now I have nothing less than a drunken night's flirtatious phrases. Just imagine the endless combinations of "Hello", "dick", "your mother" and "thank you!".

Ahh, good times, good times.

Went to pizzaplace. Learned how to say "thank you" without Borat-accent. Then weird club in cinema. Strange, these polish people. Realized my flash broke from dropping the camera yesterday. Dont use the crap anyway, so Im good.

Then on to Hard Rock Cafe where I got the manliest drink of them all: the mighty Pina Colada. It grows some hair on your chest, son!

Said goodbye to Maxa after group-picture (sorry about the bunny-ears), and just said goodbye to Adam after he talked to the mean lady at the ticket-counter (who gave me a ticket to Prague for 9 in the evening, instead of sometime later, so I could have gotten some decent sleep. In a bed. Thank you.), and guided me through the Warszawa underground to this sleezy internetcafe, where I just nearly avoided getting entangled in organized crime.

I mean really, what kind of person walks up to you and randomly tells you he is a hacker, whereafter he asks if you're rich?

Really?

51 minutes and 58 seconds. That's how long I've been sitting here. I hope the person who complained about the length of the previous update pisses his pants in joy when he sees this motherload!

But now, off to Praha.

Any morningpeople there who want to get their ass out of bed and down to the trainstation at 06:45?

Come on, you know you want to.

I need someone to teach me how to say dick in czech too!


- Lasse


Dai 1:

Current location: AO Hostel, Ku'damm, Berlin

Next destination: Warszawa, Poland. Station: Warszawa Cen., 12:35.

Mi plans changed almost immediateli after I left home. The train to Germani did not go through the station I was supposed to switch trains in, so I was dropped off at a small station in a small town in the middle of nowhere - in Germani. Then got on a train to Hamburg, arriving just before 1 in the morning - and the train to Berlin didn't depart until 6:16 in the morning. Spent mi first night sleeping on a wooden chair in a 24 Hour Open McDonald's, while being woken up bi angri german punkrockers for stealing their seat. Woke up, got on train to Berlin, arrived at 9 in the morning. Dropped off mi backpack after strapping two lens-bags to mi belt, and took the subwai to Alexanderplatz. Then got on bus that was SUPPOSEDLI going to Kurfürstendamm, which was mi destination, but stopped in front of a big, half-broken church somewhere in west Berlin.

I am now standing in Saturn, a german digital store, having told the store clerks that I was interested in a MacBook but wanted to tri the internet and its writing-abilities first. Hah, fools!

10 HOURS LATER

I'm now sitting in a hostel in Ku'damm, getting ready to go to Poland. I have 2 minutes and 30 seconds left on the computer before it logs me out. Just wanted to write that I found a place to sleep (room with 15 other people, one of which kept farting) and got a nice sleep tonight, so I'm all rested and ready for another country!

OH! And I found the friggin Y-button!

- Lasse