If you’ve got a steady place to stay, Copenhagen is actually not that expensive, provided that you at least possess elementary cooking skills and aren’t afraid to explore the city for some hidden sites. But if you can’t find a place to settle down in, Copenhagen will bring the hammer down.

Because this is my last day with a roof over my head, I’ve completely abandoned my school projects and my research in favor of frantically refreshing housing portals to get in on a deal, any deal. Yesterday it seemed for a moment that I had struck gold when I managed to reach a guy selling a dorm room for just 3000 DKK a month. We set up a meeting and thirty minutes later I was on my way to the future city of West Amager.

And what a strange city it was.

Until yesterday I had only heard rumors of the new ultra-modern district, a metropolis in the making. Because I was feeling sick, I left my bike behind and opted to travel by metro. As soon as the train exited the tunnel and dashed into the new city, the adjective “modern” got a whole new and a twisted meaning.

West Amager as a whole is truly an alien landscape. Its buildings, monumental in scale, relatively few in numbers and scattered what seems like miles apart, ooze modernity and their angular design, combined with the lack of visible human activity result in a vista of Lovecraftian desolation. “Look, but don’t touch” is the impression you get when walking amidst these cyclopean megaliths, treading your path carefully as if trying not to awaken something old and sinister sleeping beneath the massive monuments.

I finally made it to the dorm and I could hardly believe I could get a room here for such a cheap price. In silent awe I stood before the towering monolith and took out my phone. To my surprise, the guy who was supposed to show me the room didn’t pick up my call and instead I heard the all too familiar voicemail notification. I kept trying to reach him but when you’re looking for housing, voicemail can only mean one thing – you’ve been cut off.

This would’ve been rather allright if I’d been in a more familiar part of the city, but the alien megapolis is not a good place for receiving bad news. There were no doorhandles to be found, or people around to help me find my way around. Or rather, there were people, but they all seemed very ghost-like, in a sense that you could not believe seeing them as they just didn’t belong there. Because I was feeling increasingly ill I finally stopped calling the guy after several attempts and made my way to the metro station, all the while battling eerily howling surges of cool wind.

I wasn’t happy when I boarded the train to take me back to human civilization. I was feeling feverish and cold and I think, while living in an alien city would’ve been something I would have gotten used to, a fruitless endeavor to the same place leaves a whole different impression. An impression of hostility of the barren cityscape, and a sense of a dystopian parallelity, so close to the safety of the populated center.

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