Running?

So back in the flat in Copenhagen. A final night out in Fallowfield in Manchester, then straight to the airport, sharing a taxi with my Maltese friend Ikea on his way home for a Easter. Fallowfield, early morning flight, sleepless night.... cue another hung-over aeroplane journey. Things picked up pretty much where they were left back here in Denmark, and with it being a Thursday night it is hard going not have a big night in Kulobar, especially since our English friend from first semester was visiting, and it was with him that it all began.

However it is not more of the same that I will be rambling on about this time, but the fact that an attempt to enter the Copenhagen Marathon has just been made, leaving me a mere 7 weeks to prepare…. too little time especially with exams coming up..? nah, it will be reet, in fact I am actually quite excited about this, not done a competitive running race since my cross country days at school. Although im sure the sole destroying, joint crushing marathon would be happy being compared to those small fry race days, don’t people always say life is full of challenges … or something like that……er.....ill just make sure if my entry comes through that I finish and hope someone is gentle when they scrape me of the pavement.

With the recent spell of wearing more fancy dress on nights out than normal cloths, I must admit I am kind of deliberating the prospect of introducing some fancy dress type attire, it’s a trade off that I haven’t come to a conclusion on. I can’t decide, will there be more charity appeal if I do it in some comedy body wear, or maybe i should just concentrate on actually getting around the course (I’m not too sure if the Danish marathon has the same fun run ethos of the great London Marathon). Anyways there’s still 7 weeks and just need to hope that my confirmation comes through...... I should probably go for a run, it’s a nice day.

Take me back to the Alps...

This space was left blank on the eve of the University of Manchester ski trip to les deux alpes in France. Returning yesterday and forming some sort of coma of recovery, I assume this would characterise the ideal opportunity for some blog reportage. Yet a description of the past 9 days is tricky in this space.. it would take a novel… in fact a novel would be insufficient, a whole trilogy of well constructed literature would be required just to scrape the surface, even just the surface of the bus journey to the alps alone. Though many of the memories will be lost in translation between the evenings and awakening of the following mornings, this trip is still fruitfully ripe with shenanigans, fresh powder, awesome skiing and general amazingness.

Where to start… the Armitage car park in Fallowfield, where it all began, provides a pretty good framework for the trip. Anticipation and excitement of that car park is a great treat and not easily epitomized or reconstructed. With the arrival of over three hundred Uni of Manchester students, equipped for the week ahead, but more importantly donning their fancy dress outfits relevant to their assigned coach number, accompanied by copious amount of beverage entertainment, it was obvious it was going to be another epic ski trip. Our coach was coach 10 and had attached the theme of sexy fairies. Maybe a bit unfortunate compared to some but not all of the other fancy dress themes, it had to be done, and I can assure, they were attached to our bodies for the whole duration of the journey to the alps.

The week itself did not quash expectation; it followed very much the word and the build up that was envisaged, and if possible it superseded them….. a fine blend of après and on the slope skiing! Opting to do a lot more skiing than the social pirates amongst the trip, by own standards the hours spent on the slope was less than normal, (maybe due to our living quarters positioning and the additional weather). From the week one big run with Mitch, just after the sun came out revealing the new layers of powder, in which we surfed left across the vast plane of fresh snow, down through the untouched trees, before emerging back out and hooning flat out across open virgin snow again, stuck well in the mind. The days skiing in morph suits with Ben in his full body monkey outfit, and the day in the retro one piece ski suit also provided a nice spin to the days on the mountain and will be remembered. With a presence of three hundred students, the mandatory après was too, monumental, often starting in la Plano at the top of the mountain. Pano, who began pumping out huge techno tunes that could be heard all over the hill from three in the afternoon, would often result in a light afternoon rave before hitting the slopes again for an hour so. If your stamina was that of an upstream salmon, you were a real lad, pockets were hefty then yeti bar was next, and then depending on the night, either Aladdin, pirates, all purple, holiday t-shirts or the one night we were aloud to express ourselves through our own clothing would be exhibited and enjoyed.

Apart from a few injuries amongst the group, including a certain guy falling off a cliff in the search of powder, an incredible week was represented. Serious amounts of banter were packed for this trip and with it an extremely humorous week.What I would give to be back in that car park on that dull Mancunian Friday afternoon… only another 9 months until next season and the next trip.

Chocolate Fingers

In this brief 48 hour holiday back in the mother land.... I am finally reunited with CADBURY'S CHOCOLATE FINGERS.....! Kraft better not go anywhere near Chocolate Fingers or else I really am leaving England for good... abusing those little gems is my big vice in this place :)

A Solid Burger

The first public blog. Well here's something I thought I would never get, unless it had a purpose. Maybe out of slight fear that the stories reported may one day come back and haunt me if I was ever lucky enough to have kids, or maybe in a more farfetched, future, unlikely but makes a good example type scenario of running for Prime Minister. Alternatively I suppose I could have formed a little stereotype in relation to the online blogging world, but in retrospect it doesn't matter, as I guess this blog does have a purpose.

After a awesome boat trip to Oslo with fellow international students last weekend and the hopeful return back to Manchester in the morning, for the momentously big, epically memorable, obnoxiously eventful and a thorough liver bashing of a week that will be the University of Manchester Easter Ski trip to Les Deux Alp. I had quietly planned to have a more relaxed, not so heavy weekend back in the great Copenhagen in preparation. Yet it is becoming quite difficult to perform such an act, and again from early Paddy’s day evening on Wednesday, until Bright and breezy Sunday morning, it was another weekend to fulfil the expectations that this city has created amongst us living here in the centre of town.

I can report however upon our little excursion to get some food last night, in which our primary objective was to acquire a burger from Peder Ox, as on a Monday night they run a little half price offer on all their burgers. 30 kr for a burger converts to around £4 and may not seem the best offer in the world, but in terms of Denmark… it’s an absolute steal! Yet upon entry our desires were crushed as it was majorly over populated. Having already committed it somehow doesn’t seem possible to call it quits and go home and cook some food so we moved onto a all you can eat ribs place that the Americans amongst us had sampled before, and too was offering a half price Monday.

I can’t remember the name of the place but I can confirm it was on the main street, and had a numerous cows in the window. Furnished with lots of deep coloured wood, its initial aesthetics prescribe the impression that it is a place normally a bit above my league at this point life… and the menu would later confirm this. However its half price so all is good. With the all you can eat ribs conveniently not included, the anti vegetarian menu provided large helpings of solid meat followed with even bigger lumps of meat. With burger already on the brain I ordered the giant beef burger, others ordered ribs with our French man Plaisance ordering the chicken…. A considerable amount of time passed.. I would hazard guess somewhere toward 45 mins. Delivering the impression that this place really new one end of a cow from the other, we could only promise ourselves that the chef was massaging the meat.. manually peppering it with flavour ready to knock our stomachs for six… and by this time they really needed it. Yet with it being situated next to MacDonald’s one can’t help but fear the chef, hoping he/she wasn’t providing the bathroom with graffiti, flirting with the bar staff, mining the nostrils before nipping downstairs and grabbing a fresh big Mac from the old Ronald. Fortunately this was not one of those times and the food by far superseded the service…. The burger was defiantly no false advertising, and the Danish cows must follow the Danes in terms of size as the portion was not something to complain about. A solid meal that put a sock in my stomachs wingeing, was only marginally spoilt by the fact that they charged me about £2 for glass of tap water that I didn’t even consume. Dry….. maybe, but having already paid by card I guess it serves me right for not checking…that can be their tip.

Danny