I managed to perfectly time my trip this morning – trains pulled into the station just as I got to the platform until I got to Rotterdam Central, where I had a 25 minute wait, which gave me just enough time to use the bathroom and grab a sandwich and some juice.  The juice turned out to be very odd juice, with chunks of fruit inside it, which was baffling.  And also nearly made me spew it across the seat in front of me since I do not usually expect things to bob up against my lips as I drink juices.

My flight to Copenhagen was uneventful apart from the part where I worried all morning about the weather in Rotterdam, which was awful.  Rain kept sheeting sideways, and then the sun would break out, and then the building would judder from the wind.  It was distressing, but ultimately irrelevant as we took off precisely on time.  I slept for a good chunk of the flight and read American Gods for the rest of it.  Arrival was likewise uneventful, aside from the part where I asked the very nice (and not-uncomely…this was a bit of a theme) gentleman at the tourist information desk in a faint panic if they even had passport control here.  No, evidently, once you’re in the EU you’re quite welcome to hop from country to country with scarcely more than a by-your-leave, although they did check my passport before I boarded the plane.  Still, the European habit of having a customs station that consists entirely of an unguarded doorway marked “Nothing to declare” is deeply strange and unsettling.  They also evidently don’t care if you have 100 grams of toothpaste in a tube that could, conceivably, hold more than 100 grams.  This would just never fly in the States.

My hotel here is all of two blocks from the train station, which is a quick and direct ride from the airport.  The money is absolutely gorgeous, and the women have great hair and better sweaters.  My hotel is also very evidently in close proximity to the red light district, unless the middle-aged well-suited gentleman I passed has a very inappropriate, highly physical relationship with his daughter or his secretary.  And it’s also quite possible that the young woman with fascinating taste in footwear  just *really* needed directions.  But I kind of doubt it.

The weather is tumultuous here; I think there’s some big system affecting all of Europe.  It goes from sunny to squalls to knock-you-off-your-feet gusts of wind in quick succession.  The horizon as our plane approached was smudged out by low grey clouds and disappeared in watercolor mists.

I had dinner at Lê Lê, a Vietnamese restaurant recommended by my guidebook (yes, I’m aware that there’s something absurd about going to a Vietnamese restaurant in Copenhagen, especially as I’m from Seattle, which has all the Vietnamese food you can shake a stick at).  Despite that, it was both delicious and full of vegetables, but also spendy and full of tourists, which is fair enough since I am one.  I had the bun with tiger prawns, which were enormous, warm, and wrapped in herbs and fried phyllo dough.  It was fantastic.

My hotel room is small and expensive, but comfortable enough.  The shower has enough water pressure to flay you alive, and I sort of want to bring it home with me; it’s also approximately the size of a breadbox, is missing floor tiles, and gets water ALL over the bathroom floor.  The toilet is waterstained, construction crews start work at 6 a.m. sharp, and I’m having a wonderful time.