Today it really hit me just how much I miss my bicycle, as I was forced to walk from home to the campus. I made good time, as I got there in just twenty minutes, but I was considerably more tired than when casually cruising through the morning mist. Also, I think my laptop is getting fat, as it was dragging me down throughout the journey. Must remember to feed it less useless information from Wikipedia.


But another reason why I miss having a bike, a more important one, is that a bike is not just a mode of transport here. A bike is an inherently social thing. Whenever I go to a party or join a group of friends for a beer outdoors, everybody is taking their bike. I could take the bus or the metro of course, but not only would that be more expensive, it would also be lonelier. You’d be stuck in the belly of an underground robot train, whilst your friends are above you, enjoying the warm autumn sun and getting the latest gossip – all the while looking oh so suave.


This is why it is absolutely imperative that I find a new bike. Also, this time I’m gonna do what all the smart students do – steal one. As I’ve mentioned before, the common rule in Copenhagen is that if you don’t lock your bike, it’s fair game.


I’ll be going out later tonight for a few drinks. I’ll be taking the bus – one way, no return, guns on ready, locked and loaded. No need for a clip card – I will be walking back, face covered in war paint. Bicycle-blood will be spilled, oh yes!


I have already lit a bonfire in my room (to any roommates of mine that might happen to read this – please don’t take it literally) in preparation of my war dance that will accompany my plea to Cyklos, the mighty god of bicycle hunters. I will ask for good fortune and maybe, just maybe even sacrifice a young calf. Or in the case of a lack thereof, a bottle of “Danish Pride”. Whichever will do.


Pray that my hunt will yield!