Horsens: a few thoughts about leaving home


The time has come for another adventure, after almost 6 months of being a poor couch potato. Is it weird to have mixed feelings about it? I have serious Traveller’s Guilt. I don’t want to leave my friends behind, now that I’ve finally gotten them back from their exchange programs. I don’t want to miss out on yet another Danish summer and the big events happening in my loved ones lives. I don’t want to spend all my money. But I am going, and it’s exciting to me in a whole new way. For one, I am moving to a country I have never even been to. I don’t know when I will see my family again. I am going to do some travelling by myself for the first time ever. I am even going to travel for a month with a person I have never met. So while I sit in a pile of clothes on the floor, teary-eyed and nauseous from nerves, I am also certain that this experience will not only be amazing – it will be life changing.

Even though I am heading to what are arguably more stunning surroundings, I am really going to miss my home, the town of Horsens. This is where I grew up, and I still think of it as the small prison town it once was, despite it now being the 8th largest city in Denmark and one of the cultural capitals. I wanted a post just for myself, so I have something to look at when I am missing home, so here are some pictures of my home, a place I am truly going to miss.

SONY DSCCoat of arms

IMG_5279The European Medieval Festival 2014


Pictures from Lunden (“The Grove“):SONY DSC SONY DSCFriluftsscenen (“Open Air Stage”)




IMG_5828-2Menneskemuren (“The Human Wall”) by Horsens Art Museum 

SONY DSCNordre Cemetery

IMG_5881-2Klosterkirken (“Abbey Church”)

DSC09427 SONY DSCHorsens State Prison, now mostly a concert venue

DSC09431 Triton Water Fountain by the train station


150708-09-02Blue Diamond Water Tower



I’ll end this post with one of my favorite songs, sung by Pretty Maids,our local pride.

22 things: the conclusion

Today is my 23rd birthday. This marks the end of my 22 things list, and of course I didn’t even make it to 20. I will cry into my cake later. Just kidding, I already ate it.

So, my birthday started with a night out. I asked out a few of my former colleagues, and we ended up getting pretty drunk, as it was Tequila Thursday, a very honoured tradition by Nanna and me. Nanna and Mikkel were not only nice enough to come out with me, they even bought me a super considerate present:


That’s right, stickers and a giant brown dildo. We tried out a few names, so I’m not sure if it’s Bruno Mars of Chocolate Bent. I might do a poll later. Well, at least I didn’t go home completely alone. EDIT: He now goes by the name Spank Ocean.


I was clearly very excited about my present, just as much as every guy around me. I swear to God this giant Twix bar was only in my possession for 1/3 of the night. This takes me back to the days at The Pink Palace with Aga’s strap-on. Guys will always act disgusted when they first see a giant dildo, but after a few minutes, they’re all about waving it in the air and trying to see if they can stick it to an unlikely surface.

I was home at 2 at night and I started feeling sick. I woke up, hugging 3 full water bottles, because I kept getting up at night to get something to drink, would take one sip and take it to bed with me. I am not very smart when I am drunk.

I took a shower, went out to buy food, watched some Geordie Shore and then went out shopping, where I randomly bumped into some friends. Then my mom picked me up and we went back to her place, where I cooked for my mom’s side of the family. I had a great time, although I was still dealing with nausea and stomach cramps.

Cake <3

Back to the list. If you don’t remember, or have never heard of it before, here it is, with the achieved goals crossed out:


I decided to compile all the photos into one collage, so you can get a feeling of what I’ve been doing with my life the past year. Pretty good stuff.IMG_6126.JPG


The last days in Denmark

I’ve spent weeks saying goodbye to my friends and family, but somehow ended up being too busy the last few days hanging out with all of them to take a nap or double-check my packing list. At the moment, both my backpacks are filled to the brim. It gives me a sense of panic, when I thought I had been very minimal and reasonal in my packing, and knowing I will return with an unspeakable amount of souvenirs, gifts and cheap sundresses.

Anyways. Friday we had a wine tasting at job # 1 (the restaurant). We got pretty buzzed and then went to job # 2 (the bar/nightclub) where a huge dress-up party was happening. I borrowed a french maid costume from a (male) colleague. I got home at 5 in the morning, and for several reasons, I really can’t recount the night.


The next day, I was woken up by my dad who was making pancakes – he hasn’t made me pancakes since I was a kid. After a few bites, I felt the hangover hit me like a wrecking ball and I ran for the bathroom. I continued to throw up all day, while attempting to eat the breakfast, lunch and dinner my dad and stepmom made me. It was so thoughtful and nice of them, and all I could do was throw up at the sight of it. I am a horrible daughter.

I had Dad drive me to the pharmacy for an embarassing emergency purchase, but refused to tell him what it was. As I was leaving the car, he told me he needed to buy painkillers himself, and I had to throw him out of the store because I couldn’t have him there while I was buying what I needed for myself. Talk about embarassing.

Later I met up with my best friends, Aga and Albulena, for coffee and hugs.

Look at their sad faces. I’m going to miss these two so much.


Sara and I are catching a train to Copenhagen, where we are staying for the night. Friends and family drop us off at the train station, say their final goodbyes, and take the mandatory awkward pictures of us with our backpacks on.


Right before I get on the train, my dad hands me a card to read once I get on. We find our seats and look like total noobs trying to put away our backpacks, to the amusement of the other passengers. I sit down and open the card my dad gave me, and into my lap falls some money, a few notes written on paper tissue, and condoms.


Right as I pick up the condoms to inspect them, the conducter enters the coach and stops, when he sees what I’m doing. Loudly, and with a huge grin on his face he asks me where I’m off to. I am blushing, but want to be funny, so I answer Thailand. This is true, but I’m not planning on using these on a ladyboy. The passengers are all giggling at me, and the young guy next to me whispers “that’s awkward”. If only he knew.

We arrive in Copenhagen and find our hostel, where we are greeted by an unfriendly receptionist. As we’re about to enter the elevator, my old room mate and colleague at The Pink Palace, Paulina steps out! She is supposed to join us on most of this trip, but ufortunately, she does not yet have a Visa, and on top of that, she has lost her luggage. She is still in great spirit though, and we head straight to Strøget for a stroll, until we end up on a café for a late lunch and drinks.

Proof that I am in fact a Viking

For dinner, we eat at a cozy café where I have the best Caesar Salad and frozen sangria ever, but unfortunately, I don’t remember the name of the place. We crawl back home and go to sleep, as we’ve got an early flight to India to catch. Toodles!

The first step towards freedom: graduating and moving out

January 7th 2014 was a big day for me: I finished my last exam and got my Bachelor’s Degree in Social Work. It was the biggest relief I have ever felt. I have been in school since I was 5, sick of it since I was 18. Now I am 22 and I am DONE. It’s mostly been a dreadful experience, but it’s over now, and I can be proud of what I’ve accomplished, since I have been the biggest slacker for the last 3.5 years.

“YES! A Bachelor’s Degree AND free booze!”

I have been in a permanent state of stress since the Winter of 2012 because of a constant stream of exams and tiring courses, I thought I could relax and just enjoy myself for a while, now that I was done. Not happening. I had one week to move out of my home of two years. A small, newly built place with cheap rent and within walkin distance to pretty much everything. I’ve loved living alone and couldn’t imagine having to go back to a small bedroom and sharing the couch with someone else. Now that’s my life again.

This is just the tip of a super depressing iceberg.

By the 15th of January I had boxed up some of my belongings and brought them over to my dad’s place. Here I have borrowed my sister’s (and occasionally my stepsister’s) room until March, when I take off to India. The first night at my dad’s was weird. Trying to cook in a new kitchen, sleep in a new bed and show respect for another person’s things while trying to feel at home. I felt like I had made a huge mistake. Being on my own is more comfortable most of the time, but I know it’s for a bigger cause: I’m trying to follow my dream and detach myself from things. I realized quickly that it’s not the things, but the idea of personal space that is so hard to let go of.

There is a lot of paperwork to do when you graduate, move and plan a long trip. It’s been more stressful than any exam could ever be, because this is the real world. It’s not theoretical, it’s real and it’s all on you. Luckily, I just got my Indian Visa, which I was super nervous about, as the application form was super confusing. Almost to the point of tears. You also bleed money even before you purchase the first plane ticket, because there are a lot of things that you just can’t live without when you’re backpacking. Like a backpack. Good shoes. A good eyelash curler. OK so I have all these things, but the vain part of me wants to get a haircut, get a couple of cute outfits and a good towel that dries quickly! These things cost $$, baby. Or €, £, whatever.