I am not in Denmark, I have never been to Denmark, not yet.

I have been in many countries, on many continents, but not in Denmark. I have imagined it though. Many, many, many-many-many times. I don’t know how I will react when I finally set foot on Danish ground…

Sometimes, I think the fact that I have been waiting for so long is slowly transforming me into an unpredictable future visitor. The will to see Himmelbjerget, to eat smørrebrød, to wander around hoping to make nice encounters has been building up a little more every day…

So I went into a series of stages of “I-can’t-wait-to-be-in-Denmark” syndrome.

At first, I just thought it would be cool to get my plane ticket, pack my bags and leave for the old continent again… It’s been so long since I took a flight that lasted more than 2 or 3 hours… I know a lot of people hate to be stuck in a plane, but I just LOVE it. From the time I board the big metallic bird until I have to get out of it, I just feel a weird sensation of security. I know that unless we crash, or the stewards run out of my choice of meal before they get to my seat, there are hardly no bad news that can reach me. It is stupid, I know. But it is a great feeling anyway, and I don’t brag about it aboard. I want to avoid the fury of those who have to take anxiety pills and vodka to make it to the other side of the ocean… (Which could end up in bad news, and we don’t want that to happen)

Second stage was “I need to go to Denmark”. It was no longer a wish, but a need that I have to fill in my life. It went straight up my bucket list-list. And since I was (and still am not, although I am working hard on Machiavellian plans to either find the money – no bank robbery planned… yet! – or have someone fly me either out of sympathy or just to get rid of me, hahaha) not economically ready to travel, it took me to the third stage of eagerness.

Third stage: making myself believe I “can’t” go to Denmark before I have enough knowledge to pay honor to my temporary adoptive land… And that’s when I started to learn Danish. And started reading about Denmark more frantically, and buried my Danish friend with questions about every little thing I wanted confirmed.

When I got to third stage, I remember having asked myself when exactly would I crack up and lose control. At first, I thought all hell would break loose when I’d get out of Copenhagen’s airport. It seemed natural that my first steps outside the international airport would be the turning point. Then I thought I might break into tears when going through the customs (I can imagine the surprise of the poor custom officer simply asking if I was coming to Denmark for work or pleasure, and having a cry-baby woman to deal with). I also wondered if I’d get the exhilarating feeling of getting a first taste of my dream when starting the descent before landing. If that is the case, I better make sure to have a window seat… The last option scares me a little. If I start freaking out at MONTREAL’s airport… (I don’t want to imagine that flight)…

Why did I start this post again… ugh, yeah… Never been there… Yet!