Christiania bikes are a curious sight. They’re technologically innovative, or at least as innovative as attaching a wheelbarrow to a bicycle can be. They’re practical. They are so Copenhagen. And I hate them.


This is the face of thy enemy.

Today I was stuck behind a big behemoth of a Christiania bike for a good three minutes, unable to overtake it because of the narrow cycling path the roadworks had left me with. With my soul rapidly growing black with fury, I found myself thinking if I should not retrofit my own bicycle with something to counter the nuisance of Christiania bikes. Like, say, rocket launchers or flamethrowers. Or sharks.


Dare to dream.

I know that on some level this disdain for the Christiania bikes is not justified. After all, I can’t blame people for riding these things if practical needs compel them to do so. Furthermore, I am but a guest in this country and should thus not criticize that which I do not understand.


I don’t know what the Danes think of Christiania bikes, but my impression is that their hate towards them is somewhat milder. Danes are some of the most patient people I’ve met. For someone who comes from Estonia, one of the most impatient countries on Earth, learning patience is a tough challenge. Take, for instance, grocery stores. If someone started going through their coin purse at the register in front of a long queue in Tallinn, they would be promptly murdered to death and then murdered some more.


The expressions on the Danes’ faces as you’re fumbling with your change are those of admirable restraint. They will patiently and without a single frown wait as you attempt to pay for fifty kroners worth of beer in fifty öre coins. In Tallinn however, people will flat out gun you down if you so much as think about coins as an acceptable means of payment. Personally, I can’t wait to see what happens in Estonia when the country finally switches over to the euro in January. My bet is on mass-murder of biblical proportions. And I dread to think what would happen to the first poor soul who brings his or her Christiania bike to Tallinn.


In any case, while trailing an agonizingly slow Christiania bike in the freezing winds was not a good start for the day, I managed to turn the tide by doing some comfort-shopping at the Loppemarked later on.


Loppemarked is a monthly (?) flea market inside an old warehouse type of a building on Enghavevej where various vendors gather to sell mostly second hand clothes for a relatively cheap price. The entrance is free of charge and refreshments (yes, including beer) are sold at the venue.


Due to the aforementioned hangover, I arrived at the flea market rather late but fortunately there were plenty of interesting items left. I ended up spending 105 kr. on a green retro jacket, a grey hoodie to go with the said jacket and something I can only describe as a the most perfect techno wind jacket to spice up my weekly rave nights.


I rave as I cry - alone.


It was pointed out to me later that the jacket is actually meant for girls, but so it happens to be that I quite like wearing women’s clothes. There’s no shame in that. No shame whatsoever.