I want to throw myself into his arms, but refrain. ‘Yes! A more casual day sounds just like what the doctor ordered.’
We go on the hunt for juleøl. ‘Can you believe there’s an actual word dedicated to Christmas beer?’ I ask.
‘Beer is big business here. I read up about it this morning. Apparently in the early 2000s there was a craft beer revolution in Copenhagen. Craft beer breweries popped up all over the city with a focus on producing high-quality beer.’
I groan. ‘More alcohol though…’
‘Why don’t we try a couple for posterity’s sake and then head for the Christmas markets?’
‘That sounds like a much better idea.’
We visit some Danish dive bars, which are called bodegas, and sample some delicious fruity juleøl. These relaxed cosy bars are full of hygge-like atmosphere with the moody lighting and low ceilings and warm wood panelling. There are plenty of hipper places that sell it too, but we’re quite taken by the charm of the more down-at-heel bars that feel more welcoming somehow. The bodega is full of a diverse crowd and it’s not long before Jasper is challenged to a Danish Viking game of Meier, played with dice. It’s a game about lying and I’m thrilled to bits when he loses. Not a good liar is good in my book.
We share a plate of smørrbrød: crusty slices of rye bread layered with various toppings like roasted beef, pickles, cucumber and remoulade, and a heaped plate of Frikadeller: meatballs, because you can’t come to Copenhagen and not have meatballs, a beloved national dish. As we eat, we fall into an easy conversation about our favourite places around the world that we’d like to revisit someday.
‘Next favourite place?’ I tap my chin contemplating. ‘Tasmania would be in my top five, for sure.’
‘Would you move to Tasmania if you could?’ Jasper asks as he points to a slice of smørrbrød layered with pickled herring, beetroot, egg slices, capers, and fresh sprigs of dill.
I move the slice to my plate. ‘No, but I would love to visit there again. It’s got the most beautiful coastlines. You can take a hike up any mountain and be rewarded with the most stunning view of the ocean and not see a soul. That solitude, up high like that, made me feel like I was the only person left in the world.’
‘Not lonely at all.’
I laugh. ‘Depends if you’re in a solitary mood or not, I suppose. What about you? Where’s your next favourite?’ So far, we’ve worked down a long list of places we’ve loved.
He takes a sip of beer as he considers it. ‘Next favourite would have to be Venice. The floating city. So much charm and history.’
I smile. ‘Venice is gorgeous. Shame about the sinking factor.’
‘That’s why I went. I did a story about it.’
‘I’d love to read it. Do you ever see yourself writing a novel one day? Or a travel memoir?’
He grins. ‘Maybe one day when I’ve got something fun to write about. Like upping sticks and living in a rainforest or sailing around the world on a yacht.’
‘Rainforest spiders though.’ I shudder. ‘They’re terrifyingly big and hairy.’
He laughs. ‘I’m doing the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage walk in March, have you heard of it?’
I gasp. ‘I’ve always wanted to do the Camino! Are you going from St-Jean-Pied-de-Port?’ There are many different routes you can walk to get to Santiago de Compostella. Originally it was a religious pilgrimage, but these days people do the month-long walk for many different reasons – religious and spiritual, recreational, or sometimes more for the physical and mental challenge it presents.
‘Yes, I’m doing the Camino Frances.’ It’s also known as the French Way because it starts in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port before pilgrims cross into Spain over the Pyrenees and it’s the most well-known and popular route. ‘I’m doing a story on the auberges as I go.’
The auberges are the hostels along the route, humble dorm rooms for pilgrims walking the Camino. The owners are well known for their hospitality and support. ‘Are you kidding? Seriously! Doing the Camino Frances has been a dream of mine for the longest time. I’ve read far too many memoirs about it. I’d love to do it someday.’ What an experience it would be. It’s not just about pushing your body to the limits walking all eight hundred miles over thirty-five or so days, it’s the pilgrims you meet along the way, the stories shared by people from all corners of the globe, all walking for different reasons.
‘Why don’t you join me?’
I go to protest and catch myself. What’s stopping me? There is Wi-Fi in the towns, or I could cut right back on work for that month. A chance like this doesn’t come along very often. Doing the Camino with a friend, rather than alone, appeals and would put my mum more at ease, knowing I had someone with me.
‘Just say yes.’
‘Yes.’ I let out a shriek, excited by the prospect of ticking a very big item off the bucket list. You can do the Camino on all budgets, including mine – tiny. The humble auberges charge a nominal amount and food is cheap but plentiful. There’s enough time between now and then to fill up the coffers and ready myself to pare back work for March to be able to give the pilgrimage the attention it deserves. This is why I love the flexibility of my job. This is why I do what I do. A rush of goosebumps breaks out over my arms, and I have this strange sense that I’m coming back to myself – back to my true happiness, the freedom to follow a travel whim that makes my soul happy. It’s like a cloud has lifted and I can see clearly again, and it’s blue skies for days.
‘I’d better start my training.’ I’ll have to train to be able to walk ten to fifteen miles per day, and let’s be honest, I’m not the sporty sort but this trip feels so much bigger than exercise. It’s about connection. And conversely about being alone with your thoughts for much of the day.
Jasper smirks. ‘Maybe after the Winter Wonderland Express.’
‘Yes, it’s not as if there’s a gym on board.’ Wait, have I just agreed to go on a month-long walk with Jasper? Maybe I need to do the unthinkable and ask my sister her view on this, simply because she’ll remind me of all the good that might come of it… ‘Actually, I’ll, ah – think about it. I’ll have to check my work schedule and a few other things.’ Guilt blossoms about my sudden backtrack, but it’s a big decision when I don’t even know where I’m going to go after this holiday. Not back to the village for long, that’s for sure, except to cuddle Freya’s baby when he arrives and to get my things and say my goodbyes.
