The first month of 2016 passed by quickly with reports and exams. As bad as my financial situation was, I had to brush that to the side for now. My focus was fully on university work. It payed off too. I received good results on my exams. In fact, to my shock, I had even scored close to the top grade in my geochemistry class.
Changing of the royal guard at Amalienborg
Meanwhile we had to sign up for our optional courses in the upcoming semester. One of the options was a field course with my future thesis supervisor Paul Martin. Participants would travel a week to Gran Canaria in the Canary Islands and work on volcanic flows. Most of the trip would be covered by the University. Even with my money issues, this was a no-brainer for me.
On the other hand, there was another fascinating field course that would entail a trip to the USA. However, this would be more costly to the students. As much as I would have loved to sign up, I had to pass. One field course was good enough.
Sanctuary
February started off with a post-exam break. I was back on my job-search duties. I kept on asking around for opportunities and sending out swarms of emails. At one point my strategy became that with every rejection I got, I’d send out another three job applications. It was a number’s game, I thought. Something had to give at some point.
Copenhagen’s winters were generally rainy and grey, but occasionally we’d get a thin blanked of snow
Otherwise I regularly went out on my cycling trips, exploring the city and its outskirts. This was my way of recharging mentally. Just me, my thoughts and my music. I ended up finding this lovely strip of coastline around Charlottenlund, just north of Copenhagen. It had a wide-open beach park and a motte with rusty old cannons pointing towards Sweeden. This place became my sanctuary. My favorite daytime, or nighttime retreat to relax and clear my mind.
My sanctuary: Charlottenlund beach park during fall
Other times I would venture in other new directions within and out of the city. Every time seeking to explore a new place. Mostly parks, or nice neighborhoods. I would have loved to visit some of the castles, or museums, but most of these cost money. So with my tight budget, I had to settle for just the outside views for now.
The winds of change
Sometime around February, Paul Martin called me in for a meeting regarding the Argentina project. He had some bad news. He couldn’t go through with the project that year due to a mix-up at the financial department. As it turned out, he wouldn’t have the necessary funds. He was incredibly regretful and apologetic. Then almost immediately, he offered me another project if I were interested.
Specifically, a fully funded research project for one Master’s thesis, with two-weeks field work together with him in Iceland. I was blown away. I actually had to make an effort to hide my excitement in light of the unfortunate news about the Argentina project. But this? Iceland? Fully funded? One huge financial burden gone and I get to go to freaking Iceland!? Holy shit this was amazing! I immediately accepted and with a huge grin on my face we shook hands.
My financial problems weren’t gone yet, but this was at least one less burden to deal with. A step in the right direction. I could feel the winds of misfortune slowly shifting away.
A rare snowy day in Copenhagen, Denmark
Apart from my routine, the rest of February involved preparations and an increasing anticipation for the upcoming field trip to Gran Canaria in early March.
A taste of the good life
We departed Copenhagen late in the afternoon and by the time we reached Gran Canaria it was already night time. This was my first time going to a subtropical destination, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I mean we all see places like this in pictures and movies, but it’s always quite a bit different experiencing them first hand.
I didn’t get to see much during landing, as it was mostly just a lot of darkness suddenly followed by the glimmering lights of the airport below. Then we entered the terminal, got our luggage and made our way to the basement parking to pick up our rented cars.
Night time view from our hotel room balcony in Gran Canaria
The realization of where I was only started sinking in once we drove out the airport. Warmly lit highways with palm trees stretching along the roads. Luxurious resorts with inviting swimming pools all around. Then our own resort hotel, with elegant rooms and balconies overlooking the gorgeous valley below and the Atlantic Ocean in the distance. Later still, the food… Oh that magnificent food! Each day a different themed buffet diner…
On the surface I was acting all calm and collected. However, on the inside I was so giddy at everything around me! Up until that point, I was never one to really yearn for tropical paradises, but… now I was experiencing one and it was AMAZING!
Day time view from our hotel room balcony in Gran Canaria
I was getting a small taste of the good life. A hypothetical life where financial worries are a part of the past. A life where I could actually afford to enjoy places like Gran Canaria on my own dime. A seed had been planet in my mind. A desire that would later turn into a grand ambition and would once more reshape the course of my life in the years to come.
For now though, I was there. Enjoying the moment and looking forward to the rest of our days in Gran Canaria.
A few years before my decision to move to Denmark, during what I would call my years of stagnation, I had a strange dream. This was perhaps a year, or so after I had graduated from University in Romania. The plans I had fell apart and I was caught in a loop of waiting on other people’s promises. Waiting for some miracle opportunity to fall into my lap.
It was at this point that I had a dream where I seemingly met up with a divine figure. It had no visible face in the dream, just a human-like outline radiating light. In the dream I acted as if this was some great old buddy of mine from past times. I told the figure that things had been quite dull and bleak for a while, and then asked when will things pick up again? The figure then replied “2015”. Then the dream just faded away. I had had all sorts of fascinating, insightful and strange dreams before. But never did I get a response like that to a legitimate question. I didn’t dwell on it too much, but it did leave me with a renewed sense of hope that things will work themselves out.
Waking up to a winter morning in the Danish countryside
I certainly didn’t plan on things going the way they did, but 2015 did indeed end up being the year that changed everything for me. It was toward the end of 2015 that I recalled that old dream. Mostly because a few months before I had another interesting one. In this one I was climbing a steep hill at night in a dark forest. It wasn’t just me alone, there were a bunch of people around me all trying to climb up this hill. It was hard and I kept sliding back constantly. Finally, a tall, smiling, short gray-haired blue eyed man extended his hand and helped me reach the top. It felt like a nice wholesome dream and I didn’t think much more of it at the time.
Knowledge shock
Before I started my studies at KU, I had to choose my specialization. The University offered four options for Geoscientists. I was debating between two of these. One was a sedimentary rock specialization, which was focused towards the oil and gas branch of geology. The other one was is igneous rocks and geochemical processes. This would somewhat touch upon economic geology and the mining industry, but was mostly a purely research oriented path. I thought back to how much I enjoyed the igneous classes from my Bachelors days. Sedimentary I always found a bit dull, but I wanted to keep my options open for practical reasons. I ended up choosing the igneous specialization, but also signed up for the sedimentary classes for my optional courses.
Nordhavn (North port), Copenhagen, seen from somewhere up the north coast
It was the most practical decision. I would give both specs a chance in my first semester and then decide which one I will focus on later. Regarding the igneous specialization, the one thing that I somehow glossed over was the “Geochemistry” part of the title. I was terrible at geochemistry. Not only that, but I severely lacked any good basic chemistry foundation. The result of too many different teachers replacing each other in middle school and high school.
At the start of my first geochem-heavy course called “Core to crust”, my huge knowledge-gap was immediately obvious. I recall our first professor, Robert Frei, stared off the course by quickly scribbling down an equation on the board and just causally stating “Well, everyone knows the decay equation, so…” and he keeps on going. I took a look at this never seen before scribble and my immediate reaction was , “Woah woah woah! What’s “e”? Euler’s number. The mathematical constant “e” obviously. Everyone knows that, right? Yeah… “Right”.
A steep learning curve
The first three weeks of courses at KU were brutal. I was trying to understand. I was listening and focusing during classes more than ever before. But some of the stuff just seemed so advanced to me that it was impossible to understand. My head felt two sizes too big after each geochemistry class. The sedimentary classes on the other hand were way easier to grasp and follow. Yet as frustrating as the geochem class was, it kept challenging and intriguing me. The topics were fascinating and kept me engaged.
A rainy Østerbrogade in Coepnhagen, Denmark
It wasn’t until we had to work in groups and make a presentation based on a scientific article that I finally started getting it. After all my Danish colleagues formed their groups and picked their topics, the two foreigners, Nigel and myself teamed up to take the scraps. I don’t recall the exact topic of the article we got, but I know it took us two solid afternoons to chew through the material. Re-reading paragraphs dozens of times to try to understand what the heck the author is saying. Deciphering scientific sentences word for word at times. Then there were all these “alien” elements that I never heard of. Like Yb… Huh, Yb? Ybbibidium? What? How about Tb? Teletubium? Ugh…
We did our best to present what we learned. A big part of it just felt like the author arguing for some things while acknowledging that it could be this way, or that way, or another way. It turned out to be a great presentation. This was what our professor was trying to show us. How so many of these processes are still not well understood. Yet how researchers keep pushing to find different ingenious, indirect ways to make sense of what we can’t see, or directly measure. It was fine to not understand everything. You just had to continue persevering, asking questions and researching. There were never any wrong questions. Maybe just wrong answers.
Enter the smiling, gray-haired, blue-eyed man
One month in, I was feeling a lot more comfortable in classes. The geochemistry class had won me over. I was now keen on sticking with the igneous rock specialization. The next step was to find an Master’s thesis project and I didn’t want to waste any time. I asked my friend Jasper about any ideas of whom I could talk to. I told him I’d love to work on volcanoes and magmatic processes. He then told me a professor Paul-Martin Holm, who had a project in the Cape Verde islands. Incidentally he was going to present the second part of our geochem class, so I’d have the chance to meet him soon.
Somewhere on a farm in Ballerup, Denmark during winter 2015
There were a few rumors’ coming from some of my Danish colleagues that Paul Martin was this mean professor. That he was very demanding and harsh during exams. The class starts and in enters this smiling, kind looking, tall, gray-haired, blue-eyed Danish man. I didn’t think of it at the time, but in hindsight, he looked eerily similar to the man extending his helping hand in my hill-climbing dream.
The moment we took a break, I walked up to him and introduced myself. I mentioned that I had heard of a potential Cape Verde project he has and that I would be interested. He replied that sadly he already has another student for that project. However, he had this other geochemistry project in Argentina that would require a Master’s student if I’m interested.
Wow… Argentina?! Heck yeah I was interested! But the geochemistry part again… I told Paul Martin I had a severely week geochemistry background and wasn’t sure if it was wise to sign up for a geochem focused project. His reply was “But you can learn!”. Nobody could have given me a better answer in that moment. I felt challenged in the best way possible. I was given a golden opportunity here and it was time to show what I could do!
Just one little problem…
The Argentina project sounded incredible, but there was one little problem for me. It wasn’t entirely covered by Paul’s research funds, so the students would have to pay a portion of the expenses. This was highly problematic given my dubious financial standing at the time. Well, I still had time to find a better paying job, I thought. So, I accepted. This was around mid-October.
Fast-forward to December and how “well” my job-search was going. Add to that the SU-grant rejection and you can now imagine that I wasn’t in the most cheerful of holiday spirits.
A gloomy winter holiday
I had no plans for the school break. I was just sulking in temporary defeat.
At the same time an old high school friend from Romania, Vlad, was living and working on a farm in Ballerup, Denmark. He invited me over for Christmas dinner with him and the farm-owners. So I went over to pay him a visit. We ate and drank, talked and laughed. His employers were very nice people. They even gave me a gift. The topic of a job came up too. They weren’t really hiring, but I also couldn’t exactly take on a full-time farm-job half an hour away from Copenhagen either.
A Danish Christmas dinner prepared by my high school friend, master chef Vlad
Vlad was a good friend. A great friend. He did what he could in his old way to cheer me up. I felt bad for bringing down the mood, but I told him too that it was just a really shitty period for me. As always, I had to dredge through this on my own.
Despite the struggles, it was a wholesome end to a life-changing year
By the time December 31’st had rolled up, I felt I had enough time to recharge mentally. I spontaneously went out with a group of dorm-mates to have a few drinks in the chaotic streets of Copenhagen on New Years Eve. I hyped myself up and prepared for the next year. Determined to fix my financial issues, prove that I could stand on my own two feet and then succeed in my challenging academic pursuits!
On January 1’st 2016, I received the following email from David, the website owner I was writing for:
My last line of income was cut. I burst out into hysteric laughter.
About a month after my arrival in Copenhagen, Denmark, I was comfortably settling into my new life. I now had a solid group of friends, I had a good means of transportation and had become familiar with most of the city. I was also adapting to the steep learning curve at KU. However, time was ticking on my limited finances and the pressure was on to find a local job.
My accommodation was covered for half a year and I was earning a small wage through my online content writing job. This was enough to cover my monthly costs for now. Nevertheless, I had to find a better income to be able to survive long-term.
Statue of famous Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen in Rosenborg park, Copenhagen
I had begun asking around about jobs and grant opportunities within my new circle of friends and colleagues. I soon learned about the SU-system that all my fellow Danish students were on.
The SU-system
The Danish SU-system is a state educational grant and loan scheme for people over 18 following a youth educational system and students enrolled in a full-degree program of higher education.
It’s basically a significant government financial support system for all Danes enrolled in Universities across the country. Foreign students are technically not eligible for SU, unless they apply for equal status with Danish citizens. As always, this is easier if you come from an EU member country. You can read more details about applying for SU as a foreign student here.
My road to SU
I began looking into the SU eligibility as soon as I had heard of it. From my research, I found I had to have no other foreign educational support grants and show that my income was meager enough to merit financial aid. Then the SU-grant would be significant enough for me to cover all expenses. It seemed like the perfect solution to my financial problems.
Amazing mural in the courtyard of Sølvgades Elementary school, Copenhagen
The problem was that I had a foreign job with no tax contribution to the Danish state. The only way this could potentially work was for me to open a company in Denmark and register as self-employed. My English colleague and good friend, Nigel who had experience in registering businesses in Denmark helped me set up “Odyssian Translations”. A one-man translation and content-writing firm registered in Copenhagen, Denmark. I was now the official boss! The boss of me, myself and I.
Now I just had to ask the website owner I was writing for to kindly reword some things in our contract agreement so it would all fit with my new company name. He was kind enough to oblige. Of course now my minimal income diminished further because I had to start paying tax on it. Still, with everything in order, I could finally take my shot at applying for SU in November.
Ongoing job-search
Even though I was banking on the SU-grant coming through, I was still adamant on finding a local part-time job. Mostly because any job in Denmark would pay way more than the content-writing income I had. If I had enough time, I could even do both, I thought. So off I went to ask around for jobs.
My frequent bike trips through north-east Copenhagen helped clear my mind
Ideally I would have loved to get a student-job on campus, or maybe an internship at a company relevant to my field. These were ambitious “big balloon” dreams that were unlikely to materialize. The reasons being that these jobs would be limited and require some level of nepotism and, usually, Danish fluency.
The nepotism part really irked me, because I had just left a country where nepotism was the norm everywhere and I was completely fed up with it. I always dreamed of an ideal meritocratic system where one proves themselves objectively based on skill, action and experience. However, when one has little past work experience and there are dozens, or hundreds of similar applicants for one position, the hirer will most often take a subjective approach and choose the one that had been recommended by a friend/colleague.
The problem for me was that this simple reality was colliding with my “do it on my own” mentality. My whole job application process in those months was as much of an internal struggle as it was an external one.
Expanding, adapting
As time passed on and no sweet and easy jobs were coming along, I had to adapt and expand my approach. I had exhausted my options on campus and it was time to broaden the search. Since my main weakness was lack of Danish fluency, I thought to seek out jobs that shouldn’t require it. I began looking up lists of hostels, hotels and other such businesses that would mostly have foreign clients. To most of these I just sent out swarms of applications through online portals, or email. Some of them I went off to visit in person, hoping that the extra personal step could land me a brief talk with a hiring manager.
When all this didn’t seem to work, I stepped it up a notch. I began going from door to door to stores, gas stations, bicycle repair shops and other businesses around me. Whatever I could think of that may offer a part-time job.
Svanemøllen bike-shop where I got my flat-tires fixed up and also tried to get a part-time job later
This, together with my studies became my daily focus in the final months of 2015. As you can imagine, it wasn’t easy. Every rejection was a let down and just made me want to crawl back into bed and forget about all of it. I didn’t though. I simply couldn’t afford to.
In that regard, this multi-month period was quite similar to early 2015 when I had went through the same thing, but with university applications. I kept telling myself that if I had done it before, I can do it again! I was once more conditioning myself to become immune to rejections. The more you reject me the more aggressive I will become in my job search! That was the mentality I had adapted by the end.
The SU decision
Around late November/early December, I received a reply from the state regarding my SU application. It was rejected… The reasoning was absolutely ridiculous: my income was too low to be eligible for SU.
Gloomy, rainy walks in Nyhavn
So a grant meant to provide financial help for struggling students with low income actually had a cap on how low that income can be. Any lower and NOPE! No grant for you! You’re income is now so low that you don’t even register on our radars!
It was sad and frustrating… Everyone I talked to about it was equally dismayed. Yet there was nothing I could do. Even if I contested their decision, the result would be the same because of their rigid “box-mentality” rules. It was now very clear. I HAD to get a Danish job. That was the only way I would get the grant and survive my coming years. However, after a whole year of fighting and struggling, I was mentally exhausted by that point.
There was also another potential financial burden waiting for me the next year. This was related to my newly proposed Master’s thesis project. However, I will elaborate on this more in my next post.
I’ve finally gotten around to writing again and I thought I would continue on my past journey in Copenhagen, Denmark. In this post I will focus on my overall student life and some of the hurdles I had to overcome as a foreign student in Denmark. I hope this post may still be helpful for people today, but do keep in mind I am writing of my experience from 2015, so some things may have changed since then.
The Little Mermaid, Copenhagen, Denmark (spring of 2023)
I’ve already stressed the importance of having a bike in Copenhagen in my previous posts and I’d go as far as saying it’s an essential part of KU-student life in this city. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a metal frame with a steering handle, a couple of working wheels and ideally some breaks. I, of course had my trusty rust-bucket “Shame” from day two. Without a bike you’d be wasting so much time and money by just traveling between the spread out KU-campuses in the city.
Paperwork
Moving on to everybody’s “favorite” thing in the world… paperwork. No matter how much we hate it, it’s an intricate part of moving and settling down in a foreign country. For EU-member state citizens like myself, the Danish process was fairly easy and straightforward.
The beautiful old Copenhagen Stock Exchange building
The main thing I needed to do after arriving in Denmark was applying for the Danish yellow card (sundhedskort). The yellow card entitles you to medical treatment in Denmark and also serves as a local ID with CPR number, name and address. The card also shows the name and address of your designated doctor. As a foreign student at KU, you could either apply for a yellow card by yourself, or go to a KU-organized yellow card registration event for their students. I did the latter and I ended up in enormous que for the better half of a day before I got to put my name down on a piece of paper. However, once that was done, I received my card in the mail within the following weeks.
Late autumn’s sunset over Frederiksberg Park
The second important document was the student card. Getting this took a bit of campus hopping across the city. This was because most, if not all of KU’s administrative offices are scattered across Frederiksberg campus. My faculty, however, was near city-campus, in the Geocenter building, about a 10-15 minute bike ride away. The process was fairly easy and straight-forward and I got to explore their beautiful Frederiksberg campus at the same time.
With these two pieces of ID, plus my EU-passport, I was pretty much set. At any point in time if I ever needed deal with more bureaucracy I would just head over to the International House Copenhagen. I can’t think of any examples right now, but I remember things usually didn’t take long and went fairly smoothly whenever I went to this place. They also had a free to use printer in the waiting area, which was super handy.
The modern Copenhagen Opera House
Rejsekort
The Rejsekort is Denmark’s main travel card and can be used for busses and trains all over the country. In fact, you can even use a Rejsekort to travel to Malmö, Sweden. I haven’t used busses much, but I did use trains quite often. Especially in my later years, when I lived outside of Copenhagen. Since all of their train cars have designated bicycle spaces, the train plus bike combo pretty much guarantees you can get anywhere around the country. Well, at least around the eastern island of Zealand, where I lived out my years in Denmark. I can’t speak for the west-side. In any case, I find the Rejsekort to be another essential part of life in Copenhagen.
In 2015 getting a personal Rejsekort required a little trip to the central Copenhagen train station. Mostly because of the on-the-spot photo they required. These day’s it might be easier with all the new digitalization. For detailed information on Rejsekort be sure to check out their webpage.
Railway-crossing walkway near Østerport station (spring of 2023)
Bank account
Last, but certainly not least, I needed to open a local bank account. There are several large banking institutions to choose from in Copenhagen. Some of the larger ones include Danske Bank, Nordea, Nykredit and Jyske Bank. After doing some basic research on the internet, I chose to go with Nordea. I never had any issues with them. Whenever I needed some information regarding my account, they were always quick and helpful. For my little student needs, they were an excellent choice.
The imposing Grundtvig’s Church on a late November’s day
As much as I dreaded the paperwork aspect of my move, I had to admit, I was surprised how smooth and fast it all went. Coming from Romania, I was used to having to go everywhere in person, at least three times before having a chance to get anything done. Not to say that there weren’t the rare instances in Denmark too where people would send me from office to office, because nobody was sure of what “box” to fit me in. However, this was rare and generally the Danish system seemed very efficient. I also highly respected their punctuality. For whatever paperwork, appointment, or anything of the like, the Danes were always on time.
Accommodation
I’ve covered the primary paperwork and transportation aspects of life in Denmark, but as a student there’s another organization you’ll likely have to deal with. Namely, the Housing Foundation.
Let me start by pointing out that finding decent accommodation in Copenhagen as a foreign student can be an extremely lengthy and painful process. Prices are very high, so most student’s won’t be able to afford a studio apartment for themselves. Then, apartment sharing requires either having friends who can vouch for you, or registering for an accommodation service like Boligportal. Even then, most people looking for a flat-mate will want to meet you in person before considering accepting you as a tenant. This is obviously impossible when you’re looking to move to Denmark from abroad.
Hellerup neighborhood, Copenhagen
That leaves you with student dorms. Now, to me, the dorm situation in Copenhagen was always a bit confusing. To my understanding, all dorms are private, not owned by the university centers, so each dorm has its own application and selection process. Some dorms are clearly focused on certain faculties, being closer to a certain campus. So you need to know ahead of time where your campus will be and what dorms are in the area. Then you can apply and expect to be told that unfortunately there are no available rooms for the year, or that you have not been selected for the available rooms.
Your second option regarding dorms is to register for a waiting list website like KAB. Here you are expected to sign up at least one year in advance of your stay, before you know if you’ve even been admitted to a study program. Then if you’re lucky you might get a spot in a dorm in the next 2-3 years. It’s fantastic.
Old residential buildings near my student dorm in Østerbro neighborhood, Copenhagen
The Housing Foundation
Your last resort is the Housing Foundation. This organization is linked to and advertised by the University of Copenhagen, but to my knowledge they are a separate entity altogether. Again, I am not 100% clear on the way this works, but from my and some of my fellow student’s experience these guys lock down a certain number of rooms from various dorms across the city. Then they offer these to first-year students at a higher price. A bit douchy, but considering the lack of options as a first year foreign student, you don’t really have much of a choice. Oh yeah, they also ask for three-months worth of rent as a security deposit, which is super harsh when you come from a poor country.
Another thing is that they’ll also potentially attempt to withhold some, if not all of your deposit for whatever reason they can find. Usually this will be related to cleaning. If you didn’t leave your rented bed/area/room in pristine perfect condition when you leave, they will keep some of your security deposit for cleaning costs. In some cases I heard they expect you to repaint the walls before you leave. Now I don’t want to vilify the Housing Foundation too much, because apart from the ridiculously high rent I payed for a bed, I haven’t had any issues with them. I even got my full deposit back because I had heard of their practices, so I made sure everything was spotless. However, most of my fellow foreign students had a lot of problems with them.
Rain clouds over Copenhagen harbor
To summarize my thoughts, it’s fine to use the Housing Foundation as a student during your first year in Copenhagen. Just be sure you can pay your rent on time and take extra care when you leave your place so they don’t have any reason to keep your security deposit.
Cafes, bars and events
All I’ve talked about so far in this post is work-work-work. But a student needs a place to relax and hang out after dealing with all of the above. Luckily, KU has that covered. Each campus has their own student gathering places. I can only talk about the ones I frequented, which were Studenterhuset in city campus and STENO and the Geobar in the Geocenter.
I’ve mentioned Studenterhuset in my previous post as being one of our favorite meet-up places in Copenhagen. Studenterhuset is located in the heard of the city, near the old KU administrative building. The drinks and snacks are generally cheaper than in most other bars and they offer various events and activities like concerts, dace sessions, yoga and flea markets. The vibe is great and best of all, it’s so near to central museums, castles, parks and, of course, the Geocenter.
Rosenborg castle and park in the heart of Copenhagen
Located a stone throw away from the Danish national gallery, the Geocenter is… well, was my little student home away from home. It’s a large building complex that houses the Geoscience faculty of the University of Copenhagen, as well as the Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland and… the GEFION high school? Yeah that last one’s a bit weird, but yes, indeed the Geocenter is also home to a high school. Segregated into its three different wings, the Geocenter is where I had my daily classes, labs, exams, thesis writings and down right fun for a big portion of my time in Denmark.
The Danish national gallery (spring of 2023)
The Geocenter
Within the Geocenter, we had two main student hang-out places: STENO and the Geobar. Named after a famous Danish geologist, STENO is a student organization for geologists. They have study rooms, meeting rooms and a kitchen area and host various events throughout the year. However, most of the events and talks are held in Danish, which is totally understandable as foreign students are a small minority. Despite that, I did go to a couple of their dinner nights and the atmosphere was great!
Main hall in the Geocenter with that weird magnetic pendulum that was broken for years
Finally, there’s the Geobar. A bi-weekly Friday-bar held in the Geocenter, the Geobar is hands down the cheapest imaginable bar in the entire city of Copenhagen. You wanna have one drink and chill with friends? Go to Studenterhuset. You want to get shitfaced? Go to the Geobar! It has worn out couches and beanbags, a foosball table sticky with last week’s spillage and a stale smell that will sick with you for the rest of the night. It’s grunge-central and I loved it!
Each time I went to the Geobar the evening would start out super chill with a few colleagues and friends and then it would explode into a huge late-night party tentatively spreading into the hallways. Also, since it’s off the beaten path of the main campuses, not many students know about it. So it’s kind of this hidden gem, tucked away in the Geocenter.
The old grungy, nostalgic Geobar
Anything else?
Aside from the obvious studies, there’s one more crucial part of a student’s life in Denmark: a job. Yep. A job. It might sound normal to some and strange to others, but in an expensive city like Copenhagen, you really want to have a part-time job if you’re a student. However, this is a lengthy topic and I want to address it in its own separate post.
For now, I hope you enjoyed my walls of text and random Copenhagen photos and I will see you in the next post!
I had arrived in Copenhagen, Denmark for the first time around mid-August 2015. I was about to begin my two-year Masters program in Geoscience at the University of Copenhagen (Købehavns Universitet) in September. Prior to the start of the semester, KU, short for Købehavns Universitet, organized a two-week welcome and introduction program for international newcomer students. This started off with a big amphitheater presentation and welcome event and then branched out into multiple trips and tours across campus and the city of Copenhagen.
Frederiks Church seen from the waterway, Copenhagen, Denmark
Another part of their international students program was what they called the mentor program. This program basically paired volunteer second-year students with newcomers to form groups where the veterans could propose, organize and lead social/cultural events. All with the intent to help newcomers familiarize themselves with the local culture and help them settle into their new lives. This was all sponsored by the university.
Hanging out with the mentors group in Frederiksberg Park, Copenhagen, Denmark
Regarding their treatment of international students, I have nothing but praise for KU. Their international student integration programs were the best I’ve experienced. I’ve not only felt welcomed and at home from day one of stepping foot on their campus, but have made dozens of friends from across the world through their programs and events. That being said, for anyone reading this and considering applying for a study program at KU, I would highly, highly recommend it! Seriously, BEST University hands down!
Those first weeks at KU
One of the first mentor program events I attended was a cultural boat trip along Copenhagen’s canals. There I met up with a couple of students, Bjørn and Martin, whom I befriended during the welcome event. We got a full tour of the city sights along the canals and old city port.
Bjørn, Martin and I taking the boat tour across the city canals, 2015
The last week before September, KU held their annual welcome event to all students in their main courtyard on Nørregade 10. Since the university has four campuses spread across the city, it can be hard to track what’s going on where. But Nørregade 10 is where they have their old administrative center, student center and big library. It’s a beautiful old building with rich history, dating back to 1479, the founding year of the University of Copenhagen.
A winter photo of the University of Copenhagen’s old main building located in central campus, downtown Copenhagen
A friend for life
The dean gave his annual speech to a big crowd of local and international students after which we were free to roam around. Here I met up with other fellow students from the welcome event. One of them was an American guy by the name of Leo, whom I kept calling Steve, because I kept forgetting his name. I told him that I thought all Americans were called Steve. He loved it and suggested I instead call everyone Chad, just to annoy them.
Inside the university’s main building, exploring the lavish wall-covering paintings
Another student was a Nigerian guy name Oluwaseun Edward, who was also there to study Geology. I remembered him from back at the welcome presentation. He was the guy waving at me from a few rows away in the big amphitheater pointing to his tag and yelling out GEOLOGIST! We walked around exploring the halls of the old KU building together. Later on we grabbed a kebab from my favorite Turkish kebab place in Copenhagen. Afterwards we went on to discover every KU-students go to bar/café meetup place, Studenterhuset (Student House). My brother from another mother, father and continent, Eddy would become one of my best friends to date.
Eddy, myself and Christian rocking Nigerian colors
Several weeks later, Eddy and I would take the opportunity to visit Møns Klint through another KU mentor’s event. One of several “Klints” Møns Klint is a famous coastline on the island of Møn, a couple of hours south of Copenhagen. A favorite leisure destination for locals and foreigners alike, Møns Klint offers rocky beaches and hiking trails along a series of impeccably white chalky cliffs meeting the Baltic Sea.
The chalky cliffs and beaches of Møn’s Klint, 2015
More friends
Throughout that first semester, as well as the coming years, I’ve had endless memorable moments and stories from KU. There was the time I met Bjørn’s computer scientist gang during a tour of KU’s Frederiksberg campus. Among them were Ivo and Venko from Bulgaria who named my shitty bike “Shame”. Bogdan and Raluca from Romania and Martin and Klaudia from Slovakia.
Celebrating our friend Venko’s birthday with the entire computer scientist gang, 2018
We were quite a large group of students on the tour. At one point we were all heading towards one of their buildings on campus. If memory serves, the building had a set of revolving doors and a couple of normal ones. So for no apparent reason everyone starts lining up to those revolving doors and it’s just taking forever to get everyone in one by one. Baffled by this, I simply step out of line and head towards one of the free doors to go through. Later on I meet Raluca and Bogdan and when she finds out I’m from Romania she starts laughing out loud. She says she could have sworn I was Romanian the moment she saw me bypass that pointless que and head for the free door.
My farewell dinner with the gang in 2019 before I moved away from Denmark
KU campus rocks!
There was another time when I found out about the “do-it-yourself student run bicycle repair shop” on KU campus. I briefly mentioned this in my previous post. After having some issues with my rusty old bucket of bolts bike named Shame, I ended up going to this shop quite a few times. I learned from other students there how to maintain and fix up bikes. There were a bunch of abandoned old bikes that could be scavenged for parts. Soon enough Shame had a shiny new chain, slick new rubber tires, a working hand break and a few other much needed components!
An upgraded Shame that I had enough faith in to let my mom use while she was visiting in 2016
Even after finishing our studies two years later, my friends and I still spent time on campus and Studenterhuset. One of those times we had met a fellow aspiring guitarist from Hungary. After jamming out, we went to Studenterhuset for a few drinks. Once there we overheard that a girl at a neighboring table was celebrating her birthday. I don’t remember how, but so we ended up serenading her on the spot with a totally improv birthday song.
Guitar practice session with Bogdan on the beach
Truly I could go on and on… But at the heart of each story lay a common theme: Amazing people and fantastic friends!
The mentees become the mentors
Eddy and I began our first student semester as mentees at KU. We both participated in several fun events, like the ones I mentioned above. During this time we had the chance to meet a lot of new people, see new places and really get accustomed to Danish life. We both wanted to have a chance to help other newcomers and give them the same welcoming treatment that we got.
At Møn’s Klint during fall 2015, back when Eddy and I were mere mentees
Thus, one year later, Eddy and I volunteered to be mentors at KU. Together with our common friend Irene, a Danish girl we met during our mentee days, we helped create and host various events for the new batch of mentees in 2016. From drinks and dinner nights, to Lego building and bike trips through Deer park.
At Bakken in 2016 when we were now full-blown mentors guiding our newcomer international students
Once more, we had the chance to meet a bunch of new people and forge even more friendships with students from across the world.
What about the Danes?
Thus far, I’ve mostly mentioned international students, but you might ask, what about the Danes? You may have heard, or read that Scandinavians in general are more cold and distant. Perhaps even unfriendly? Well, that’s completely false in my opinion.
Eddy and my Danish friends supporting me on the day I defended my Masters Thesis, 2017
Yes, as a foreigner you tend to find it easier to befriend other foreigners that are like you, alone, in an unfamiliar land. Also yes, Danes might be a bit more reserved, but not because they’re cold, or unfriendly. But because they grew up there and already have their friend-groups and all. You as the foreigner usually need to make those extra steps in the beginning to integrate into their world. But once you do, you will find that Danes are some of the nicest people you could ever meet.
Danish friends
My first attempt at befriending Danes was during one of our classes. We had to work on a task in groups and I ended up in a group with three Danes who were clearly good friends, Glenn, Jesper and Jonas. We were supposed to interpret a series of squiggly seismic lines. I made a stupid joke about how some of those lines looked like Batman. The three Danes laughed and said I joined the right group. Next thing I knew, Jesper and Glenn gave me gift for my birthday a couple of months later. This simple kind gesture will stay with me forever.
Me and Jesper checking out the displays in Frederiksborg Castle, Hillerød, 2016
Then there was Lasse Gram, my good friend who in 2016 when I couldn’t find a place to stay after my dorm contract was up, offered me a room in his apartment. Then he would kick me out half a year later… No, no, I’m joking haha! I love ya Lasse old buddy! As I’m writing this, I recall one of my fondest memories with Lasse. It was years later at Copenhell Festival in 2019. After a long couple of days of concerts and drinking, we met up towards the end of last show. We sang along to Scorpions live performance of Winds of Change with our broken, tired voices. Brothers in arms and drinks forever!
Lasse and I at a Devin Townsend concert in Copenhagen, Denmark
There were many others, but I would also mention Irene again. The Danish girl I met through Eddy and the mentor program. Even though she moved to the UK for a while and later on I would move away from Denmark, we stayed in touch. In fact, we are in touch to this day and send each other memes on a regular basis.
The best period of my life
Years after moving from Denmark to Canada, I still think of my “Danish” years as the best period of my life. It was certainly not all sunshine and rainbows. I will touch upon the hardships of those years in some of my next posts. Yet still, I generally felt a lot happier than.
I’ve had these past years to reflect on why that is. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that it was because of all the amazing friends I had.
Lost in thought in the “wilds” of Bakken
Don’t get me wrong, I had friends in Romania too and I now have friends in Canada. But Denmark was something else. I had groups upon groups of friends. From my Danish fellow Geologist friends, to the dozens and dozens of friends I made through Eddy and the mentor program, as well as my amazing computer scientist friends that I met through Bjørn.
The Machine thirsts for one more beer!
When I started taking Danish classes in 2016, I met even more people there. Some like Thomas from Germany, or Subi from Nepal would leave and return to their countries soon after. But others like Marios from Greece would stick around long enough for us to hang out and become good friends.
Going for drinks with Marios, Subi and Thomas after our first Danish language class in 2016
In my last year in 2019, I had to attend a job center training course for a few months and even there I made new friends. I will never forget the laughs I had with Makis and Anestis during those days. Without even trying, I was more socially active those years than ever before and ever since.
Having a BBQ with my Greek friends in 2019
Nothing lasts forever
Sadly, even the best of friendships can end in a glimpse. One of my best friends from Romania, would end up joining me and moving to Denmark in 2017. I couldn’t wait to integrate him in all of my friend groups. We had a great time for over a year. Yet something happened in 2018 between us that I still don’t fully understand. A falling out that broke what I thought was an unbreakable brotherly bond.
Rip friendship – 2018
Without him ever fully explaining his reasoning, my understanding was that he had gotten upset over something I said during one of our nights out. He walked off and refused to speak to me, even though we had been close friends for a decade and lived together at that point in time. On my end I felt confused and disrespected. Then I felt betrayed. I became angry and unforgiving.
Later, I tried to make amends and to a certain degree it worked. Then one day he left and went back to Romania without ever telling me. Before all ties were broken forever, I sent him one last farewell message where I wished him the best in his future.
Just like that a decade-long friendship had been extinguished. Indeed, nothing lasts forever. My time in Denmark wasn’t destined to either. Not because I didn’t want it to, or try, but fate it seems had other plans. To end on a positive note however, I’m happy to say that all of the friendships I forged during my years in Denmark have stayed intact to date.
It’s been quite a few years now since that magical late-summer day in 2015 when I moved to Copenhagen, Denmark. I can’t recall much of the days leading up to my move. I assume it was just “business as usual” like it tends to be with me. Meaning that I don’t really spend much time thinking about it. Helps with not getting stressed and losing any sleep over such things. Then suddenly I’m one day away from the move, or whatever other given big event, and that’s when I “wake up” from my dormant state and start preparing. I do, however still remember in great detail the evening of my arrival and the day after.
Prior to my departure, I had managed to arrange a half-year accommodation contract through the student Housing Foundation. I recall it was a bit of a convoluted way of getting a place, but as I would learn later, it is really hard finding an affordable place to live in Copenhagen. I will come back to this discussion at a later point.
My cat’s long face when he found out I was leaving
For now, I had a roof over my head. I also kept working on my part-time job as a content writer. The pay was ok for Romania, but for Denmark it was little to nothing. Still, money is money and at least it would help cover some of the monthly food costs. The rent costs, however, I have my mom to thank for that. We had a little money put aside from a few years prior when my grandmother had died. She gave me all of that to cover my rent for half a year and help get me started until I would hopefully find a student job and survive on my own.
Luckily there were no tuition fees, as all education in Scandinavia is covered by the state. Still, I knew this would be the biggest challenge of my life so far and I was eager to prove that I could succeed.
The trip
There were no direct flights from anywhere near my hometown to Copenhagen. The nearest “big” Romanian international airport is in Cluj Napoca, my old university city. However, the closest you could get to Denmark is to take a flight to Malmö, Sweden, and then take a bus to Copenhagen. Another option was to take a shuttle minivan to the Budapest international airport and then take a direct flight from there. I chose the latter, because it seemed to involve less logistics.
High above the clouds on my way northwest
The flight was during the day, I believe sometime around the afternoon. A fairly short 1.5 hour flight. Not like the drive to Budapest, which took around 5 hours. Even though I was excited and mentally at peace, there was still an unconscious level of stress in me. My stomach was in a knot the whole day.
Arrival
My only contact in Copenhagen was my mom’s former work colleague’s son, Balint. I chatted with him before the trip and he offered to wait for me at the airport and help me get to my place.
I remember I was so disoriented when I got off at Copenhagen. Don’t get me wrong, I could navigate the airport just fine, but I was just so out of it all. I guess even without realizing it, or acknowledging it, the stress must’ve been quite high. I finally met up with Balint after checking multiple times his Facebook photos so I could recognize him. We then took the metro from the airport to downtown Copenhagen. That was Nørreport station, right in the heart of the city. There we had to get on one of the S-trains, but first Balint wanted to take me topside to have a quick look around. I’m fairly sure he kept pointing things out left and right, but I was like a brain-dead zombie, just smiling and nodding with nothing registering in my head.
A short train ride later we had arrived at Østerport Station. From here it was a short 10 minute walk to my dorm in Østerbro. On the way Balint gave me a bunch of life-tips like which were the better and cheaper supermarkets, or where to get a sim-card. Above all else, he emphasized on getting a bicycle as soon as possible. This is the number one advise I would also give to anyone moving to Denmark. Especially Copenhagen, which is one of the most bike-friendly cities in the world. Get a bike. You’ll need it!
Somewhere in Copenhagen…
Finally, we had arrived at my dorm where I met my new roommate for the next six months. His name was Nao, short for Naonori. He was a young exchange student from Japan. Very nice guy. Balint then handed me my keys and gave me more helpful advise, which I immediately forgot because I was so zoned out. After he left, I surveyed my new temporary little home with a smile, and then immediately rushed to the bathroom with intense diarrhea. That lasted throughout the whole evening… Yeah… I think the excitement/stress was a bit much.
My first day in Copenhagen
Before heading out anywhere, I needed to get my stomach back in order. So I went out to buy some rice to cook. There were quite a few supermarkets in my area and I had forgotten which one Balint was telling me about. I remembered he mentioned something about Irma, so I decided to give it a shot. I ended up buying the most expensive pack of rice in my entire life. As it turns out Irma is this kind of an exclusivist, all organic-type of supermarket. He had likely warned me that it’s extremely over-priced and I should try to avoid it. Ooof… Good start, good start.
Good old exclusivist Irma, where even a pack of rice will make your wallet bleed.
The next order of business was to get a local sim-card for my phone. The weather was nice and sunny, so I decided to just go out for a city walk and start exploring my new town. I had also talked with Balint about meeting up with him and some of his friends. They were going to be somewhere around the old port, a place called Islands Brygge.
Red bricks and Danish flags everywhere.
I headed out and started walking down the big nearby boulevard Østerbrogade towards the city center. On my way I purchased my new Lebara sim card and was once more connected to the world. I was delighted by everything! The red-brick architecture, the beautiful green areas, the funny-sounding Danish language in the background, it all felt so cozy and welcoming. I would later learn a famous Danish word for this feeling: hygge.
My first time walking along the Copenhagen port.
After a couple of hours of walking and still far far away from Islands Brygge, I realized I wasn’t going to cover much ground by foot in Copenhagen. Balint was right. I needed a bike asap!
Enter “Shame”
I went back to my dorm and started joining various Facebook groups for buying and selling second-hand bikes. It didn’t take long to pick a few out from the sea of posts. This one guy I had contacted said he could meet on the same day. So in the afternoon, I went out again to check out his bike. It was a simple looking little thing with a rusty chain and a damaged seat. His asking price of 700 DKK wasn’t exactly low, but he was hyping up the speed, quality and resilience of the bike. It was actually very light indeed… Oh, and the security lock was included.
Back to walking across the city
I decided to buy it. My first Copenhagen bike, with a simple word written on the frame: Sram. I never heard of this brand, but later on I would become friends with a Bulgarian fellow named Venko and he pointed out that Sram means “Shame” in Bulgarian. It would sure live up to its new name in the coming months!
My shitty little gem of a bike “Shame”
From crappy breaks to losing the chain in mid-traffic, Shame and I would end up going through quite a few adventurous months. But after discovering a free student-run do it yourself bike repair shop later that year, I would start upgrading Shame and turning it into a true joy to ride! I still left the chipped off seat as it was, just for nostalgia’s sake. Besides, who would even think of stealing a shitty looking bike like that? Little did they know, this shitty little bike was a true gem that I’d end up keeping up to my last day in Denmark four years later.
The months following the decision to move to Denmark were filled with elation and renewed excitement. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of failed attempts, I was going to leave my birth country behind for good. It was now time to go out there and find my place in the world. A place I could one day call home.
The final north-Transylvanian adventure
During the spring of my last year in Romania, my good buddy Daniel and I planned a little road trip across Maramureș County. He and his girlfriend at the time came over to visit a couple of monasteries and take a steam train ride along the Vaser Valley. For me, going on one last Transylvanian adventure with my best friend was a fitting way to part ways with my past.
The trip took a little over two hours by car from my hometown of Baia Mare. On the way we made a stop in the town of Săpânța to visit the Merry Cemetery (Cimitirul Vesel), famous for its brightly colored tombstones with paintings and poetic descriptions of the past lives of its residents.
A sea of color at the Merry Cemetery, Săpânța (2015)
Northeastern Maramureș
Late in the afternoon, we arrived at Vișeu de Sus where we would spend the night in the Mocănița train yard. The train yard has multiple parked train cars with sleeping compartments. These compartments are rented out to visitors staying the night and have all the necessary amenities of a hotel room.
The over-night train cars in the the Mocăniță train yard
There are several picnic tables next to the train cars to enjoy an outdoor evening dinner and breakfast. There’s also a couple of old refurbished locomotives on display that you can view and explore.
Big old steam-powered locomotive on display
The next day we briefly visited the Bârsana Monastery to the south. Home to the tallest wooden church in Romania, Bârsana Monastery is situated in the centuries old settlement of Bârsana, dating back to the 1300’s.
Bârsana Monastery, 2015
The outside courtyard has many walkways across the Monetary gardens and boasts a couple of beautiful peacocks. The wooden buildings are decorated with wooden carvings and religious iconography.
Peacock at Bârsana Monastery
In the afternoon, Daniel and I took a little road trip to the city of Borșa situated at the foothills of the Rodna Mountains. As we saw the mighty snow capped mountain peaks in the distance, we felt them calling to us. Teasing us, daring us to attempt a little adventurous hike. We couldn’t refuse, however, after a short half an hour walk up the slope, a wet chilly breeze coming down from the mountain reminded us of our past reckless experience in the Făgărăș Mountains. So we decided to play it safe this time around and returned to the safety and comfort of our train yard in Vișeu de Sus.
Mocănița
The following morning our little steam powered train was all ready to take us up the Vaser Valley.
Grumpy morning face
Mocănița, which roughly translates to the little shepherd is a narrow-gauge railway built around the mid 1930’s. The railway is serviced by several steam engines two of which were built in Germany in the early 1900’s.
Chugging along
Partially destroyed during World War II, the railway was later rebuilt and mainly used for logging until 2004 when work began on turning it into a tourist attraction. The 47 km main line runs from Vișeu de Sus to Comanu near the border with Ukraine. However, the service usually terminates at Faina station due to ongoing rehabilitation work on the line.
Our steam powered locomotive
The train made a few stops on the way for fueling, or repositioning. The trip took a few hours both ways and crossed the exceptionally scenic Vaser Valley home to a variety of wildlife, including brown bears and deer.
Along the Vaser Valley
As the trip progressed, the valley became increasingly narrower, with the rolling hills turning into steep mountain cliffs flanking both sides of the track.
She’s getting pretty tight
Around noon, we arrived at Faina station in the heart of the Maramureș Mountains Natural Park. After having a quick snack, we spent the afternoon roaming around the gorgeous landscape before heading back to Vișeu de Sus in the evening.
In the heart of the Maramureș Mountains Natural Park
We spent the final night drinking and laughing, reminiscing and goofing around the train yard. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer farewell and ending to this first big chapter of my life.
Beyond the threshold
As my departure date came close, I recall a now familiar feeling I then felt for the first time. It’s hard to describe this feeling, but to me it’s like a “life threshold”, a point beyond which you can’t see anymore.
Perhaps it was the fairly repetitive nature of my life up to that point that made things fairly predictable. Being in the same places around the same kind of people, there’s always a type of familiarity in your life. I always yearned for more. To explore new places, meet different kind of people and experience new things. This is why I loved traveling so much, especially aboard, since this opened up a whole new world for me. Even so, as exciting and memorable as each of my travels was, they were just that. Short episodes in an ocean of fairly mundane, predictable days and weeks.
However, this time it wouldn’t be a short episode. It would be a complete overhaul of my day to day life. Everything would change. I simply could not imagine what my future looked like after moving away from Romania. I couldn’t see beyond the threshold, but I had a gut feeling that it’ll all be ok. Thus, there was no fear, no anxiety, just a calming inner peace and a trust in myself that I’ll figure it out. I was ready to embark on a new journey and begin my Odyssey from East to West.
One final look back before departing on the train of life in search of a new home
In my previous blog posts I’ve mostly focused on my travel and adventure episodes from my young adulthood, which for me were the highlight of those years. However, I’ve also sporadically mentioned that these were not great years for me. Today, I wanted to briefly retell my story from those years and the life changing decision I was about to make, which also inspired the name of my blog.
After graduating from university, my dissatisfaction with my country and surroundings only grew with each passing year. Each trip abroad I was fortunate enough to go on, would only reinforce my desires to leave Romania behind more and more. For years I kept trying out various ways of finding work abroad, either through contacts, or constant job applications. Despite my efforts though, by 2014 it had become clear this wasn’t going to work.
I ended up working for a Romanian oil and gas exploration company in the south of the country. The job wasn’t easy and the pay was laughable. However, I tried to make the best of it and put on a positive attitude. That lasted about a couple of days into my first shift.
My “lovely” work site sometime in autumn 2014
Now I don’t want to get into the details of all of my gripes with the company and my time there, but suffice to say, this half-year stint only served to amplify my already highly negative feelings towards everything around me.
The winds of change
Finally, by the start of 2015, I had decided that I was going to try a new approach to leave. I was ready to go back to school and thus, began a personal campaign of relentless university applications across Europe. My main target country was Norway, which had left e tremendously positive impression on me when I visited it a couple of years prior. I’m pretty sure I sent out an application to every Norwegian university I could find. However, I was not going to limit myself to just one country. My war on stagnation had begun and my barrage of applications was going to blanket the continent!
My cat as I was telling him of my glorious plans to break free and escape
A couple of months into 2015, I parted ways with my employers in a fairly explosive telephone conversation. Although that unfortunate moment of emotional meltdown left a very bitter taste in my mouth and a dent in my wall, I also began feeling surprisingly relieved. Like some invisible chains shackling me down were starting to break. Within a few days I somehow managed to find a freelance writer gig for an upcoming travel-tourist website. Ironically the pay was almost similar to my previous shitty field job, while the work routine was incomparably better. This little job would end up being a life saver in the months to come.
A surprising outcome
Amid my application frenzy in early spring, friends and family sometimes pitched in with additional ideas for places I could try to apply to. One of them came from the most random of sources: a former work-colleague of my mom’s, who had a son that had moved to Denmark a few years earlier. I knew little to nothing of Denmark apart from its common history with and proximity to Norway. So I applied to a couple of Universities in Denmark too. Although my hopes and dreams still laid with Norway, I was going all in. Something surely had to work out!
As the application deadlines for each university went by, I began receiving the decisions day after day, rejection after rejection. I wasn’t phased anymore. “Reject me all you want, I will never give up!” – became my new attitude. A couple of weeks in, all of my Norwegian applications had been rejected. Yet in the email sea of hopelessness, two shining jewels emerged out of nowhere.
I made sure to re-read these emails multiple times to be certain I wasn’t misreading something, but the message was true and clear. My applications to the Masters programs at the University of Copenhagen and Aarhus in Denmark had been accepted.
After a couple of months of traveling, working and procrastinating, I finally sat down to write again. Today I thought to add to my “Transylvania 101” series by talking about one of my favorite camping destinations in Romania. Namely “Scaunul Domnului” (God’s chair), a mountain peak and plateau in the Călimani Mountains, east-Transylvania.
How it all began
Around 4.54 billion years ago, when the Earth was a molten fireball baby… Oh sorry, I went back too far. About 80 million years ago, during the alpino-carpatho-himalayan orogeny volcanic activity gave birth to the east-Carpathian mountain chain… Wait, no. That’s still too far.
Ok, let’s start in 2010, towards the end of the summer exam session at University. While discussing with one of my friends and dorm mates about holiday plans, an idea for a camping trip came up. As we were both mountain lovers, I suggested a few spots in north-Transylvania that I knew of close to my home town. However he already had plans to go hiking with a couple of friends in the Călimani Mountains to the east. I had never explored that region of Transylvania and was keen on discovering new places.
My University city of Cluj Napoca where all great adventures began
We decided to go camping for a few days in Călimani, in a spot that he once went to called Scaunul Domnului. Our trip basically hinged on my friend’s ability to recall the way to this place, half day’s walk across the bear-ridden Transylvanian wilderness. Suffice to say, there were a couple of instances of coin-toss level decision making where the path would diverge, but in the end he got us through to the top.
The Călimani camping experience, which I will detail more below, was so much fun that we ended up returning the following years.
The Călimani trip
My journey the Călimani always started in city of Cluj Napoca, which was also my University city. From here I would take a train to my friend Cipri’s hometown of Târgu Mureș, in central Transylvania. the rest of our adventurer friends would all meet up there and spend one night at his place. The next day we would take an early morning train to the village of Deda-Bistra. From Deda-Bistra we would begin our ~10 km hike in the Călimani Mountains.
The old train station in Cluj Napoca
Now 10 km doesn’t sound too bad, but with fully packed 60-80 liter backpacks on our backs, it was certainly no cake walk. Especially when apart from the canned foods, tents, sleeping bags, we would also pack an excessive amount of alcohol with us. The Transylvanian way…
The hike up to Scaunul Domnului
The first leg of the journey would see us cross the village of Deda-Bistra. A very gentle incline upwards, this bit always felt like the tutorial section of the hike. Yet, by the time we’d reach the edge of town, we’d already be sweating.
At the edge of the village of Deda-Bistra
The next portion was the “make it, or break it” section, which involved a grueling steep climb in the morning sun, with zero shade. During this part, everyone was expected to complain, swear and curse while questioning why on Earth they are doing this instead of relaxing in a soft, comfy bed at home. However, after passing the test of endurance, the mountain would reward us with a gorgeous view of the valley bellow. Then Cipri would always add that there’s only two more big steep climbs to do. Well, that and about three quarters of the way to go…
Overlooking the valley of Deda-Bistra after completing the first steep climb of our hike
After the first big climb, the forest completely envelops the path. From there on up, we’d spend most of our time hiking up and down through the forest. Occasionally crossing a few meadows where we’d remember to be on the lookout for signs of bears. At that time the Călimani Mountains were known to have one of the highest bear populations in Romania. During this long section, a couple of diverging paths could potentially stray one away from the right way… Which was to the left… I think.
A little glimpse of the long hike through the Călimani forests
The plateau and peak
About half a day later and a couple of kilos less, we would reach the final stretch of the hike. A moderately steep climb in a rocky coniferous forest. This bit was always associated with excitement and euphoria of having nearly completed the long and arduous hike to the top.
Nearing the top of Scaunul Domnului and the end of our hike
Finally, the forest would open up and reveal a glorious mountain plateau. The area offers plenty of good flat ground for pitching tents. There’s at least a couple of great campfire spots as well. Most importantly, there is a safe to drink fresh water spring situated in the center of the plateau.
On the northwest and east side, slated rocky cliffs offer some of the best views of the Carpathian Mountains I’ve ever seen. Northeast of the plateau, the path continues for over 20 km towards “Pietrosul Călimanilor”, the highest peak (2100 m) in the Călimani Mountains.
Southward view of the Călimani Mountains from Scaunul Domnului peak
Since the first time I saw the sign to Pietrosul, I always tried to convince my companions to do a full expedition all the way to the top. For some reason, I’d always find it hard to just sit in one place for more then a day. I kept wanting to go further, walk more, see more! Sadly, that trip would never materialize. However, I did somewhat learn to appreciate the less active camping style of simply relaxing and enjoying nature in one remote spot.
Slated rocky cliffs atop Scaunul Domnului peak
The first year: Perfect conditions
When we first went camping in July 2010, we were very fortunate with the weather. the mornings and evenings were nice and cool, while the days were warm and sunny. The weeks prior to our departure also saw plenty of rain, so everything looked super fresh.
Sunshine after light rain in the morning is just perfect
We pitched our tents next to a fireplace atop an elevated section just north of the plateau. We were right at the edge of to the forest, which was great because it provided us with plenty of dry dead wood that we could use for our nightly campfires. A few meters from our tents we had breathtaking views of the Călimani Mountains stretching north-south. A short walk down the plateau, we had easy access to the fresh water spring.
Our neat little camping site in the Transylvanian wilderness
We were also lucky to have the entire place to ourselves. Not say that Scaunul Domnului is a popular tourist destination, but when the weather is so good there’s a high chance of other hikers stopping by.
Nights and days
The nights were filled with drinking, philosophical debates, nonsensical rambling and lots of laughs. The night sky was so clear and visible that each night we’d spend a couple of hours stargazing. On the other hand, when we’d venture into the forest for more lumber, we’d be enveloped by a darkness that no city dweller could imagine. Roaming around the pitch black forest with our headlights, we discovered a tree with its bark pealed like a banana. The deeply engraved claw markings were unsettling to say the least.
Our long nights by the campfire
Fueled by the other wordy of our surroundings our imagination went wild and the spooky campfire stories followed. Weather it be extraterrestrials, demons, or bears, or extraterrestrial demon bears with corn eyes, the ridiculous tales were endless. To add to all that, the first night after we retreated to our tents, I’m fairly sure we were visited by a beast. As I lay ready to fall asleep, I clearly heard ruffling in the grass near our tent. This was distinctly different than the sound of the blowing wind. The sound got closer and closer until it seemed to be next to the tent. Everyone else was asleep at that point, so I just rolled towards the center and hoped it would go away. The next morning there was a large patch of flattened grass beside my tent. Could it have been the beast that pealed the tree nearby? Who knows…
The peeled tree we discovered the first night, about 50 m from our tents
The days were mostly spent recovering from the long nights of drinking. Weather this involved meditation, walks in the forest, or throwing up depended on the individual. Another fun daytime activity was foraging for blueberries. It’s always impressive how time can fly when you’re munching on fresh berries – bear life 101.
First year hiking crew in Călimani (2010)
It’s easy to see how we fell in love with the place and quickly decided to return the next year.
The second year: A bit moist
So it was that in July 2011, we were back at Deda-Bistra, preparing once more for our hike in the Călimani Mountains. This time around however, the weather was not favorable. It had been raining for a couple of weeks and it didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping.
The train station in Deda-Bistra during the wet season in 2011That first steep climb that ended up being way harder then the year before
The climb felt much harder. The ground was wet and muddy and our clothes got soaked within the first hour. Personally, I may also have been fairly out of shape at that time, so everything felt extra heavy. We had to make a lot more frequent stops on the way. About half way into the hike, we even decided to pitch a tent to rest and nap for about an hour. It truly felt like a completely different game then the prior year.
Second year Călimani crew, getting ready to head out again after a little napOur wet forest hike
With plenty of extra hours spent on the hike, we finally made it to the plateau in the evening. The clouds were very thick and low, so we didn’t have many hours left of light. We had to scramble to pitch the tents and start a fire as soon as possible. Due to our earlier rest break, the tents, sleeping bags and most of our clean clothes got wet too. Everything was wet and the rain showed no intention of stopping anytime soon. It was a disaster.
Our mood after arriving at our destination all soaked
The sinking submarine
The hasty manner in which we pitched our tents the first night came back to haunt us the next day. I’m not sure if one of them had sprung a leak, but somehow this one tent got flooded. So much so that our friends sleeping in the tent woke up with their sleeping bags and feet in a pool of water. Thus, we christened it the sinking submarine.
Cliffside in the clouds atop Scaunul Domnului, Călimani 2011
The sub had to be evacuated and abandoned for the rest of our stay. This meant that all four of us had to cozy up in a two-person tent. Talk about sardines in a can… At least we used the sinking submarine to store our wet backpacks. Speaking of wet things, the clothes left outside to dry never dried because surprise surprise, it kept raining through the night!
Futile attempts to dry our clothes
We solely had to rely on the campfire to attempt to dry anything. This had it’s own downsides, like when I ended up burning my boots while trying to dry them.
Still trying to dry those boots too…
On the flip side, Cipri was very knowledgeable about wilderness survival, so thanks to him and his skills, we could constantly make and maintain a fire even with all the wet wood and bush. A handy thing I learned from him is how well tinder fungus burns even when wet.
With all the rain, there were plentiful mushrooms at least
A mystical allure
Despite the hardships, our second year in Călimani was fantastic! Once we got used to our new conditions, we adjusted our habits and adapted well to the new wet environment. The night parties raged on as the year before, with music louder than ever. The spooky atmosphere of the constantly foggy forest added a new layer to the mystical allure of the place.
Most importantly, we always made time to goof around
Mushrooms and berries were flourishing thanks to the abundant rain of the past weeks. Eventually, a day, or two in, even the rain stopped. So we finally got a chance to dry some of our clothes. To top it all off, during one of the evenings the clouds even gave way to a few rays of sunlight. This provided us with some incredible photo opportunities and breathtaking sunset views.
A sneaky sunset behind the clouds
Honestly, as perfect and fun as our first year was, the second year remains my favorite Călimani camping adventure. Perhaps it thanks to the challenging nature of that trip.
The rare rays of sunlight we got on this trip were extra special
That being said, we wanted to make sure that the following year we would avoid all the rainy days and strive for a warm and dry camping trip. Oh boy, did we ever get it…
Leaving behind the cloudy Călimani Mountains in 2011
The third year: Where’s the water?
This time around, I was in better shape and so was the weather. No more clouds, no more rain, the sky was clear and it was damn warm. We were in fact hiking during a heat wave. Whenever we’d start complaining about the heat, we’d just think back to the rainy conditions in 2011. Not this time. this time it hadn’t rained at all for weeks before we set out on our trip. The issue with this wasn’t evident at first, but would soon be made clear once we reached the top.
Out of the three years doing this trip, I’m fairly sure we completed the hike in record time in 2012. After exhausting most of our water supply going up, we were keen for a refill from the spring. However, in there’s where the problem lay. Due to the lack of rain and persistent heat, the freshwater spring had almost completely dried up. All that was left was a muddy little puddle…
We saw this stork back in Deda-Bistra and its expression perfectly mirrored our reaction to the “no drinkable water” situation
Some attempts were made to filter the muddy mess through a cloth and then boil it. But despite our best efforts, this was unsustainable for days and nights. With no other known water spring in the area, we realized we had no choice but to turn back the next day. To top it all off we couldn’t even drink all the alcohol we’d brought up, because without water, the next day we’d be screwed.
Another group of excessively rowdy campers arrived that evening and completely hampered any semblance of our enjoyment during the one night.
Even if it was just the one night, we still had our mandatory campfire in the evening
The final grueling return trip
The next morning, we all woke tired and thirsty. There was no time to waste. We packed up everything and started our descent. What would normally be a fairly easy half-day hike down from the mountains, turned into an very physically and mentally challenging trek. We were 4, or 5 people and had half a liter of water left for the entire trip back to town. Let’s not forget that we were already dehydrated from the day before. Even though the walk was mostly downhill, or straight, the temperature highs of around 30°C still made us sweat whatever little water we had left in us. It was truly miserable.
These days we see and hear people constantly reminding us about the importance of hydration. Well, after what we went through that day, I think none of us would ever forget to drink enough water for the rest of our lives. When we finally managed to get back into town, tongues out and half hallucinating, we rushed to the first store we saw and emptied their shelves and fridge of water bottles.
Our final sunset in Călimani
Final thoughts
Our camping trips to the Călimani Mountains were generally an absolute blast! The key of our good time lay as always in great companionship and camaraderie. The great memories we made together those days are unreplaceable and despite the hardships and even dangers that nature threw at us, we came back each time for more.
Bear footprints we found during our hike in 2011
It’s just a shame that our last trip ended up being so dissapppinting. On top of that, the failed trip served only to accentuate an already bad period of my life fraught with personal issues and depression. It would take another year for things to start to turn around for me. Specifically, it would take an unforgettable little trip with one of my best friends to Norway.
My 2009 EUGEN experience in the Netherlands can be summarized in 3 main points: hornet invasion, surprisingly interesting and fun day trips, and more alcohol than should be allowed. Now allow me to elaborate below.
EUGEN 2009 camping ground in the Netherlands
Hornets, field trips and alcohol
Our camp site was on a farm in the middle of nowhere. The closest town where we could go shopping was a couple of hours hike away. The weather was very warm throughout the week and that part of the country was experiencing a hornet invasion. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was certainly unpleasant, especially during the mornings. We constantly had to fight off hornets during breakfast and had to be vigilant if wearing slippers. There were a few incidents of people getting stung and one more serious case when someone accidentally swallowed a hornet. They were rushed to the hospital and were fine in the end.
To my second point, as you may know the Netherlands is a fairly flat country. After the impressive field trips and sights I had seen in Switzerland the year before, I honestly didn’t have high expectations for the Netherlands. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the field trips and sights I saw. I will go into details in the chapters below.
Finally, I went a bit wild on the alcohol consumption during this particular EUGEN meetup. In addition to the daily beer consumption, we had an infamous night of “wine tasting”. Our friends from Slovenia had each brought quite a few numbers of bottles of wine. Apparently Slovenia has many good wines and so they decided they would host a huge wine tasting party. Suffice to say, the tasting quickly devolved into chugging bottles. That night was an absolute blast, ending in the biggest bonfire the north had seen – A little Game of Thrones reference there for any fans. However, the second day’s hangover was no joke…
The Caves of Maastricht
The first field trip I attended during EUGEN 2008 took us to the province of Limburg, the most southeasterly region of the Netherlands. Our first stop was at Gemeentegrot, or Cauberg Cavern.
Entrance to Geementegrot
Geementegrot is part of the network of limestone caves known as the Maastricht caves, or the Caves of Saint Petersberg hill. These are basically a system of interconnected old underground limestone quarries. The trip involved a a guided train ride through the dark underground complex.
Art decorated walls inside the caverns
Dating back to the 13th century, the Maastricht caves were originally dug to mine chalk. Over the years, as mining this rock had become less profitable, the caves took up different roles.
Sculpture in marl in Cauberg Cavern
The walls were decorated with art over hundreds of years, which lead to them becoming tourist attraction. During times of crisis, like World War II, the caves were used as shelter for civilians and military personnel. After the war, part of the complex was turned into a nuclear shelter, which was part of our guided tour.
I had seen a few cave systems before, but nothing as massive and impressive as this multi-century man-made complex. It was truly an impressive experience. One that I would recommend to anyone visiting the Netherlands.
Three Country Border
Following our visit to the Maastricht caves, we took the bus to the tripoint in Vaals. The tripoint, or the Three Country Border, marks the border point between Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands. One of the main attractions there was the Labyrint Drielandenpunt, Europe’s largest outdoor shrub maze.
Labyrint Drielandenpunt at the tripoint in Vaals
We ventured into the maze and spent many eons trying to navigate its treacherous, shrubby, ever winding pathways. I’m joking. We probably spent about an hour in there. But it was definitely a fun experience! At the center of the maze we climbed up a platform from which we could see in the direction of any of the three countries. Me and my navigation group made it out safe and sound, just in time. However, some of our other companions had to cheat and climb over the shrubs to get out before the bus left them behind.
Fountain in the Labyrinth
Aside from the Drielanden Labyrinth, the tripoint is also the highest region in the Netherlands by altitude. Our next and final stop for the day involved visiting the continental peak of the country, the Vaalsberg. This monumental hill sits at a whopping 322.4 m altitude! How anyone could climb such a tremendous hump is astounding!
Searching for the way out from one of the elevated lookout points
Nevertheless, we did the unthinkable and hiked Vaalsberg. However, in some way that I can’t fully recall, we ended up in yet another man-made cave. The Dutch sure seem to like their caves.
Another hole in the ground to explore in Vaalsberg
A trip to Belgium
The second field trip I went to involved a day trip to Belgium and was only offer on one specific day. The list got filled quick and I wasn’t about to miss out on a chance to visit Belgium. In an amusing twist of events, the day before the trip we had our country of origin presentation evening in camp. For these presentations people would usually talk a bit about their home countries geology, or culture, or something down that line. It was during this evening when our Slovenian friends presented the wonders of their country to us all in the form of insane amounts of wine.
The party tent at EUGEN 2009
I won’t go into the details of that night, but I will say that it was an absolute blast! I was among the last standing, or should I say wobbling people to enjoy the final flickers of our big bonfire. However, this meant that I barely had a few hours of sleep before my alarm violently woke me up early next morning. I felt absolutely miserable. However, I wasn’t about to give up on the chance to visit Belgium! I could barely drink half a cup of coffee before upsetting my stomach. I zombied my way onto the crowded bus and fell asleep instantly.
My first 10 minutes in Belgium
About two hours later I woke up suddenly to the loud voice over the bus speaker letting us know that we had 10 more minutes to our destination. My stiff neck was frozen in an awkward sideways position for a couple of minutes. As I slowly got my bearings, I realized we were in a big city, going up a windy road to some sort of fortress.
I could barely focus on the outside world. My head was throbbing and my stomach was turning in all the wrong ways. I kept telling myself that I just needed to hang in there 10 minutes and then I would rush to the nearest restroom. However, that wasn’t good enough. As a cold sweat started sweeping across me and my vision and hearing were fading, I realized if I didn’t “unload” I would just pass out. Reluctantly, I grabbed the nearest empty trash bag and gave one last miserable and desperate glance to my poor unknown German companion sitting next to me. Then… well… I think I don’t need to spill it out for you. I already spilled it out for him… Oof!
10 minutes later, in Belgium…
A mystery city
After I got the chance to wash up and walk around a bit, I started feeling better. Even with the nagging headache and hangover after effects, I was very happy to have not missed out on the trip. The fortress we had driven up was amazing and the view of the city below was absolutely fantastic. I had no idea where I was, but I wanted to see more.
Grumpy me and my splitting headache with the beautiful Belgian city in the background
I’m pretty sure I was told the name of the city a few times, but in my state it just didn’t stick. So much so, that it took me writing this blog, to finally ask my old pal Daniel where the heck we went to in Belgium. Turns out it was none other then the capital city of Wallonia (the French region of Belgium), Namur.
View of the rooftops of Namur from the Citadel
We spent a good while exploring the city fortress, also known as the Citadel. Apart from the breathtaking views of the city, there were various old canons, artillery pieces, barracks and other such things to discover. There was also a geological part of the citadel tour, focusing on the foundation on which the fortress had been built.
Exploring the Citadel
After touring the citadel, we got back on the bus and drove to a nearby quarry on the outskirts of Namur. It was at this time when in proper Romanian fashion, me and my compatriots decided to take our lunch and nap under the shade, while everyone else went off to tour the quarry. No regrets. That nap fixed me 100%. Well, I guess my only regret was that we never got to explore the city of Namur more. It sure looked like a fantastic place to spend a few days at least.
The Citadel of Namur and its tilted rocky foundation
Europe’s biggest seaport
On my third field trip, we headed to the Delta Works in the Netherlands. On the way there, we passed by Rotterdam, Europe’s biggest seaport. Even though I didn’t get to see the city itself, during our drive, I got a glimpse of the vast industrial and shipping areas surrounding it. It was quite a sight to behold. Me and my friends were eagerly awaiting to have a view of the North Sea. Instead, we were treated to seemingly endless lagoons, canals, and all other sorts of water bodies used for transportation.
The busy shipping lanes near Rotterdam
On the one hand the sights seemed boring and unappealing. On the other, seeing first hand the sheer magnitude of the ongoing daily operations supplying the continent with all sorts of goods from across the world was quite impressive.
Delta Works
The Delta Works is a complex of 6 dams, 3 locks and 4 storm surges built to protect The Netherlands from flooding from the North Sea. Since a big part of the country is below sea level, flooding is a constant threat to the people living there. Completed in 1997, the Delta Works is one of the most impressive feats of hydraulic engineering to date. Apart from protecting the Netherlands from flooding, the complex also provides benefits for water quality, agriculture, shipping access and recreation.
Walking underneath one of the large locks of the Delta Works
We started off our visit at their office building with a short presentation of the complex. We also had some of the most delicious sandwiches imaginable for lunch. Oh, those salmon sandwiches were divine… I would go back there just for that alone!
Storm surge barriers at the Delta Works
After our informative presentation and… those scrumptious sandwiches, we got a first hand look at part of the Delta Works. It was truly a massive structure, or I should say, chain of structures.
Shores of the North Sea
At this point me and my friend Daniel finally got to touch the waters of the North Sea for the first time in our lives. It would end up being but a prelude to a future adventure further north.
Utrecht
The final field trip during my visit to the Netherlands took me to the city of Utrecht. This was part of the cultural trip, which is always held on the last day of each EUGEN. We walked the cobblestone streets of the city center, taking in the sights for a couple of hours.
The Dom of Utrecht
Canals, coffeshops and colorful houses lined the narrow city streets left and right. The centerpiece of the city is the gothic Cathedral and Dom of Utrecht. Built in the 14th century, the Dom is the oldest and highest church tower in the country.
Canals and a sea of bicycles
After our walk, we went to a Belgian bar with that had a crazy high amount of beers on tap. One more flavorful and fantastic then the other. It was during this visit I discovered how amazingly tasty Belgian beers were. To this day, they remain my favorite style of foamy alcoholic beverage.
Nothing better then having a few quality beers with friends in a Belgian bar after an epic week in the Netherlands
My friends and I spent the rest of our remaining time in Utrecht enjoying our drinks and reminiscing about our fantastic week in the Netherlands. EUGEN 2009 had come to and end and it was now time to part ways. They would go back to camp for one last night, while I had to catch a train back to Germany.
