Fourty Eight Thousand Characters

Cryptic enough title I reckon.

This should be the second to last thing I write about CPH. The last one will be when I touchdown at London Gatwick.

So on Friday I handed in my essay. Which I cut down from around 60 thousand characters including spaces (around 10k words) to 48 thousand characters including spaces. Monumental effort, and massive thanks to Kersten for helping me on that. Honestly cutting down words is like… drowning your own litter of kittens, one by one :(.

Anyway it’s done. It’s possibly the best piece of work I’ve ever done, but we’ll let the markers decide that eh? If you ever fancy a gander just ask haha, but I’m not sure anyone is that interested in Scandinavian Neutrality. Honestly.

This should be the best day yet, right?

Then it suddenly descended into the worst possible day. Ever.

Bear in mind that the Chinese Embassy still have my passport for this visa. Possible the most convulted process of ALL TIME. 3 Visa applications later… the Uni expect my passport on Thursday. I’m flying out before then. As (Frosties) Tony says “Greeeeeeeeeat!!”

It all started going awry when I went to Lufthavn (CPH Airport) to see if it was possible to fly without a passport. In theory it is. But it is something decided on the day… and easyjet are small and terrible so they may not let me on as they risk a fine if I don’t make it back into my own country at Gatwick. This was not the bad part.

Bear in mind that now it is CHUCKING it down. With immense wind. It’s actually horrbile. There is a word for when the weather matches your mood, but A-Level English was a long time ago heh… I make the trek over to the British Embassy on the other side of town. It took me quite a while to find, and I got incredibly wet doing it but eventually I got there. Had no idea it had airport style security and I had to put my bag in a locker to go in. I wasn’t impressed. This was all just souring my mood until I got in. Then I possibly met the most prim, proper stereotypically middle class English lady behind the desk. I must have sighed when she opened her mouth, I wasn’t really expecting any sympathy from that moment on. Bear in mind I knew exactly what I needed. An emergency passport. I couldn’t even quote all the retarded questions I was asked as I knew what I needed, but eventually she gave me the form and I filled it in. Bear in mind I got to the embassy around 2, and it must have been around 2:40 now. I was ready to hand her back the form when she says I need a passport photo and a counter signature. What a BRILLIANT time to say. Moments before she said the embassy was shutting early (at 3, as opposed to 5) because of a computer upgrade. Seriously. And it wouldn’t be open again till Wednesday. Becase of a computer upgrade.

A whole embassy closed for days because of a computer upgrade. What a joke.

Anyway this didn’t bother me before because I would have had the form in way before then. But now I had to leg it out, grab my stuff (I was carrying a laptop in that bag), ring my friend to come over and sprint to a passport photo place and get back before 3, as she said if I was back before I’d be let in. So I darted to get this photo, came back with 5 or so minutes to spare. And they would not let me back in. The guard lied about “I’m sorry its 1 minute past”.

“It’s not”

And it really wasn’t. So no emergency pasport for me. Thank you British Embassy for abandoning one of your citiztens. The Yanks would never do this to their own. So by the time you read this I’ll either be in the air, or thoroughly grounded.

Fuck the British Embassy. Basically.

And the picture of the duck? Figured it may calm me down whilst writting this.