Farewell to the Motherland

For lunch on Sunday Nicolai and Rikke had made fleske stei (fried pork), a special treat that’s usually only eaten at Christmas.

Sunday Lunch

View from Nicolai's Apartment

Took a walk around the lake and had a chance to jam a bit on my harmonica with a dude playing the accordion.

Jonathan chillin

Bread crumbs and algae in lake

Got to drive past my grand parents old apartment... so many wonderful wonderful memories... eerie to be there... nostalia. I was sad to see that the sandbox was no longer there. I remember having to reach up to grab the door know of the apartment building... awww... then there was the time when morfar (my grandfather), Zaki, and I got stuck the tiny elevator for, i think over an hour... and apparently that was the impetus for Zaki current claustrophobia. here's to 103988...

That night, one last farewell dinner… everyone came. It was great: mor, Moste Gitte, Oncle Viggo, Lea, Ole, Nicolai, Rikke, Jonathon, Thomas, Ditte, Sylvester, and Rosa. A lovely close to a lovely trip.

One last Carlsberg with mums in the airport… Mother’s final word of advice before entering passport control and not getting to see her son again for months and months: No Bangladeshi girls! (Thanks mom.)

Some problems with flight rescheduling, missing transfers in London, but made it… Ah, the 11 hour flight to Sri Lanka. I actually requested a row in which no one else was sitting in so I got to stretch out and actually sleep.