Life in Århus is never boring. It is easy to find yourself getting drunk at school on a Saturday night having beers poured over your head and obnoxiously abusing the DJ for not playing enough songs in English (and then complain that subsequent songs were not “well-known” English songs).
It is also easy to find yourself in a supermarket trying to make up your own translations of Danish words on food packaging. This can lead to unintentional culinary delights, like Pork Bolognese, or Curry Pasta. When I get home, I am never cooking again.
The Journalisthøjskolen (a blatant attempt to show off that I now know how to use the ‘ø’ on my computer) is still encouraging us to push our journalistic limits. Whether we like it or not.
Recently we have been concentrating on the European Union and finding problem orientated stories to report on to coincide with our study trip to Strasbourg for the sitting of the European Parliament last week. (**That was the most boring sentence I’ve written on this blog**).
Obviously the opportunity to learn more (read: anything) about the EU is every Australian’s dream. And lucky me for finding myself trying to understand this complicated process, like how the Council of Europe has nothing to do with the European Parliament or Council of Ministers, despite having the same flag, song, and location. An interview with an Eu MP and a cheeky call to the head of the WWF (wildlife, not wrestling) in Brussels was hopefully enough for me to pass.
The city of Strasbourg was beautiful, and a hell of a lot warmer than “Feel the Siberian Wind” Denmark. Needless to say we found a few local drinking establishments to wind down after a few hectic days in Parliament, and more Facebooking than I have done in one sitting in a while.
At the end of the trip, our teacher took us out for a “night on the town”. To everyone reading this, yes I also thought that it would be the lamest thing on the planet.
The “Goodbye Strasbourg Party” (its official title in our program guide) turned out to be a success. We found ourselves that night on board a boat, sinking 5 Euro Mojitos watching our prof attempt to Salsa dance.
The night ended with Anders and I trying desperately to ask people in French where we could get a kebab at that time of night. We cut our losses and purchased pasta from the window of a petrol station.
Maybe it was my drunken state, but it was some of the best food I have ever eaten. Just another night in Europe, and another amount of Euro that is no longer in my wallet.
In the next edition: Follow Damien through Paris.