Danny & Pork Chop Go Scandinavian Day 9: Under the Sea
Sorry, this is later than I expected. I had other things to do and a few health-related issues that I had to solve (don't worry I'm still that same 50 Shades of fucked up you've come to enjoy.) The depression is worse, my thoughts are erratic and I really feel there's no point in anything. Maybe writing this will cheer me up a bit. Maybe not. I've gone back to therapy as some of you have read in the wonderfully titled blog "Danyul Goes To Therapy" and it will be a running "series" on the blog. Hopefully the little tips I get in therapy and the insights I share might help some of you with your own problems. I did this last time with the two that I saw and well, honestly, it felt like a complete waste of time and that nobody cared, but I'm willing to try again. Dunno how long I'll continue it for.
The second day in Bergen.
The second day in Bergen.
I awake anxiously. Once again, I find myself almost bouncing off the walls. It's Valentine's Day. Usually, I'm in a shitty mood on this ostracizing, commercialised-consumer driven bullshit day, but today I'm getting tattooed and going to the aquarium and the Bergen Harbour. I love being able to walk all over the city. I didn't even bother to learn the bus system; I'd rather walk and take it all in. Actually, I don't even think I looked to see what their public transit is except for the commuter line from the city to the airport. I enjoy a cup of tea, chocolate filled croissant and fresh strawberries before stretching and heading out into a golden Bergen morning. It's windy as fuck today and it feels like rain in the air. I don't think twice about having to walk in the rain. I've got a hood after all, and the cold really doesn't bother me. As I step along the cracked and slushy pavement I make a mental note to make chocolate filled croissants for a Delectables with Dan blog.
The icy pavement crunches under my trainers as storm clouds begin to dominate the sky. The wind picks up, carrying water droplets across my face. I ignore it as I breathe in the chilled air that overlooks the harbour. One more small section of pavement and road will bring me back towards Haakon's Hall, where just yesterday, I bathed and orgasmed in medieval history. More people should take the time to appreciate history, honesty. So many people look to the future for answers, ignoring all the experience and knowledge nestled into the fibres of the past. The water looks black as my soul would be if I had one. I cross the street so that I'm right in front of the water. I look deep into the harbour.
The familiar feelings of unease and haunting are stirring in the centre of my spine. I want to look away, but I can't stop peering into the cold depths. All the items that I saw from that death exhibit in Oslo seem to be rising through the water out at me. They know my thoughts. They know my secrets. I resist the urge to scream. No, this can't be happening; this is just my tired and food starved brain fucking with me. I blink. The clothes and items are still there, bubbling more rapidly; there's something else rising through them. I feel a sense of danger wash over me. Despite my instincts to run, I lean a little closer to the water's edge and peer down deeper. I see a head. If it was a human head, I wouldn't have panicked like this. A serpants' head. A giant serpent's head. A sea serpent's head. MOTHER OF CHRIST! NONONONONO!!! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING. I jolt back, slamming my eyes shut. When I open them, there will be nothing there. I open my eyes after about 10 seconds and the same black water stares back at me. There's nothing there. Not a trace of the items or the monster. What the fuck is going on?
I hurry across the street, the fear lingering that there is something lurking in that water. I don't know where the idea came from. The idea is completely idiotic. I know its illogical. I am 90% sure there is not a sea monster in the Bergen Harbour waiting to surface and eat me. There's also the fear that I will slip on the ice, fall in and be eaten. Not afraid that I'll fall in, no one will notice and I will drown-a completely logical fear given everyone is busy and the water is freezing-but that I will be eaten by a sea creature that might not even exist. Maybe I should talk to a therapist about this.
The harbour is beautiful. The sun is cracking out from between rainy clouds. I know it's going to rain and the temperature is going to drop. Might as well get as much shooting done as I can when the sun's out. I love strolling along the little shops, where it's safe. I'd love to come back in the summer and take everything in again. Enjoy the nice breeze off the water with an iced coffee as I track down more medieval history, dive into the depths of my passions. I'm not shooting long before the sky closes up and tears begin to fall from it. Goddamn.
The familiar feelings of unease and haunting are stirring in the centre of my spine. I want to look away, but I can't stop peering into the cold depths. All the items that I saw from that death exhibit in Oslo seem to be rising through the water out at me. They know my thoughts. They know my secrets. I resist the urge to scream. No, this can't be happening; this is just my tired and food starved brain fucking with me. I blink. The clothes and items are still there, bubbling more rapidly; there's something else rising through them. I feel a sense of danger wash over me. Despite my instincts to run, I lean a little closer to the water's edge and peer down deeper. I see a head. If it was a human head, I wouldn't have panicked like this. A serpants' head. A giant serpent's head. A sea serpent's head. MOTHER OF CHRIST! NONONONONO!!! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING. I jolt back, slamming my eyes shut. When I open them, there will be nothing there. I open my eyes after about 10 seconds and the same black water stares back at me. There's nothing there. Not a trace of the items or the monster. What the fuck is going on?
I hurry across the street, the fear lingering that there is something lurking in that water. I don't know where the idea came from. The idea is completely idiotic. I know its illogical. I am 90% sure there is not a sea monster in the Bergen Harbour waiting to surface and eat me. There's also the fear that I will slip on the ice, fall in and be eaten. Not afraid that I'll fall in, no one will notice and I will drown-a completely logical fear given everyone is busy and the water is freezing-but that I will be eaten by a sea creature that might not even exist. Maybe I should talk to a therapist about this.
The harbour is beautiful. The sun is cracking out from between rainy clouds. I know it's going to rain and the temperature is going to drop. Might as well get as much shooting done as I can when the sun's out. I love strolling along the little shops, where it's safe. I'd love to come back in the summer and take everything in again. Enjoy the nice breeze off the water with an iced coffee as I track down more medieval history, dive into the depths of my passions. I'm not shooting long before the sky closes up and tears begin to fall from it. Goddamn.
I don't have an umbrella, so I put my hoods on and brace against the rain. If it wasn't so windy I'd enjoy it a bit more. The sun continues to play peek a boo as I walk around shooting all the locations that I didn't do the previous day. From the outside, Haakon's Hall looks so much smaller. Was it just an optical illusion? It makes me think of what happened in Paris. I should tell you guys those travel stories sometime. Paris was a hoot. God, I've not been there since October of 2012. I should really get back there sometime.
I check my watch and see that it's drawing nearer to my tattoo appointment. Poprocks explode in my veins. I'm excited. I'm taking a day just for me. I feel okay, despite the monster scare. I hurry around the edge of the road closest to the water and start heading down the winding side streets to the tattoo shop. It's not a long journey, but I want to be there a little early to talk things out, see if my artist and I are on the right page. I get to the shop a little early and wait under a bridge to stay out of the wind and drizzling. It's darker than it was earlier. A different sort of haunting creeps over me. The area looks familiar. It reminds me of a place from my childhood. The colours are the same of the late 90's. The dirty stone of the bridge and the empty factory looks down on me. I feel small and pressured. For a moment I almost lose it and start to cry. I don't care that I'm 10 minutes early. I shuffle up the street and wretch the door open. The shop is immaculate and warm. A group of artists are huddled in the back, a few are hunched over drawing boards, two sip beverages. I lose my voice for a moment. It takes almost all my courage to pull myself out of my shell; thankfully they haven't noticed me standing here for three minutes like a loon.
I shuffle to the counter and set my backpack down. "Hi, I'm Dan, I have an appointment today? I wanted to do a cover-up on my arm, but I'm kind of in a hurry today with things I have to do, so is it okay if I go with a smaller cover-up on my thumb?" A punky woman, heavily tattooed greets me. "Sure it's no problem! I'll be your artist today!" I tell her what I want and she prints out a rough idea. She instantly understands. She makes a stencil and we set to work. She jokes with me that I have to sit still and that it's going to hurt. Both of us snicker. She tells me about where she's from and I ask questions as she tattoos, ignoring the vibration of the needle in my bones. It doesn't take her long to outline the little plesiosaur. "How are we looking?" "Fantastic! I love it!" And I really did. It wasn't me being too shy to say anything like I sometimes get. I felt comfortable with this woman. She starts shading the dinosaur and we talk travel and tattoos, sharing our experiences with one another. I want to come back to Bergen and have her tattoo me. She was one of the friendliest artists I've worked with in a long time, besides Stockholm. (If you want to see the full story on this tattoo, it's linked below in a Tattoo Talk Thursday episode.)
She wraps me carefully and I pay her, hardly able to contain my joy. I loved my Smashing Pumpkins tattoo that I got the other week, but I love this one in an entirely different way. It's not an expression of sadness or irony, it's something pure and loving. A memory of something I've dearly loved since childhood; a hobby that still interests me. I feel happiness swelling within my chest. I don't know why, but I feel amazing, that I fit in. Nothing's going to bring me down.
I decide to walk the 1.2 km from the tattoo studio to the aquarium when I head outside. The rain has stopped and it looks like it might hold off for a while. It's not really that far and all the walking will do me some good. I'm unsure of how to get there so I use the GPS setting on my phone and allow it to do all the work. I love that I can use this even when I'm not connected to the internet. What a wonder. I've got a skip in my step as I amble down the streets, and slink to my left along the other side of the waterfront. I wanted to save this side for today, not take in everything quite at once. As Mrs Gloop once said, "Save some room for later!" And I did Mrs Gloop. I did. I pop into a little grocery store and fetch myself a snack. All of a sudden I feel hungry. Chocolate covered nuts and diet coke will do just the trick. I grab a low-carb bar just in case I get hungrier. I feel a strange sort of pride. I know it's only going into a grocery store, but I did it without feeling shame or nervous. I went in, held my head high, got what I wanted and didn't huddle or try to hide. I must be high off the tattoo endorphins or something.
I pop my earbuds in and let Motionless in White take me away as I much, taking in the streets and the occasional photo, filled with wonder at the idea of the aquarium. It's been so long since I've been to one! I think the last one that I went to was in 2015...Yes! It was the big Pacific Aquarium in Hunting Beach California! I got to pet the stingrays there and I wanted so badly to be able to take them home with me.
I get to the end of the road and panic. I don't see any signs for the aquarium and there's no one around that I can ask. I could loaf it back about half a mile and ask the men doing construction if they know about it, but chances are they don't. Some of the air starts escaping from my happiness balloon. Oh, nononono. Not today. Please, fuckin' a. I smell people. I turn and see a man and a woman heading up the path near me. They look like they might be going to the aquarium. I don't want to look like I'm stalking them, but I lowkey am. I follow them up the hill slowly, careful of the ice on the pavement. It's when I'm almost at the top of the hill I notice the sign for the aquarium. The wind blows and I catch the scent of the woman's long blond hair; spring and green apples. It's a welcome scent and in perfect contrast to the chill and snow that surrounds us.
I hang back for a few minutes, watching them enter and observing the outer part of the aquarium. It needs a bigger sign. I enter through the sliding doors, connect to the wifi and take in the wonders of the gift shop. I almost burst with joy. It's filled with all sorts of animal & fish toys and plushies. Like a greedy child, I want them all. I want to touch them all, rub their softness against my horrible skin, but I don't. There's a guy at the till/ticket counter. It doesn't even strike me that it's unhygienic until much later. I wander up to the counter and purchase a ticket. He shows me a layout of the aquarium and tells me that if I hurry I can catch the seel show and feeding. I thank him and head out to watch the seels jump through hoops and flip for fish. They're so cute.
Following the seal watching, I head into the main building where a number of exotic animal and reptiles in addition to fish and other aquatic animals are held. I press my hand against the tank and they all come to me. It's like they know I'm sad and they want to try and comfort me. Maybe they're sad too. I'm enjoying their company as they crawl, slither and walk over, interested by me, but nothing captures me as much as the koi pond. I've always been a lover of koi; when I was at the large aquarium in Napier, New Zealand, I made friends with a chubby golden-orange koi fish. I loved that he'd let me pet him and swim around to greet me when I visited. I wanted to take him home, but sadly I couldn't. Sometimes I still think about that fish. Interesting that chubby little fucker had such a profound impact on my life. I walk over to the pond and look down into the water. Ther's almost 30 koi fishes. THERES AND ENORMOUS CHUBBY ORANGE ONE WITH BLACK SPOTS AND A BRIGHT SHINY CHUBBY ORANGE ONE. I almost explode right on the spot. Must touch.
I place my hand to the surface of the water and at once they all rush over to me, pushing and shoving, wanting to be pet. I stroke every fish in the tank more than once. They all take turns swimming up to me, rubbing against me and sucking on my fingers. I love them all. I almost cry with joy. Something likes me. Something wants to interact with me. I stay for an hour, maybe more, playing with the fish. They take little to no interest in the children that peer into the pound or try to stroke them. Outwardly, I project a poker face, inwardly I'm gleeful that the fishies love me. I want to take the chubby orange one with black spots home with me. Him and the shiny orange one. They're my favourites. I really want koi fish. I could set up a nice lovely tank in my room. I could play with them, waste away the hours watching them swim.
I don't want to leave the pond and the fishies but there's more of the aquarium to see. There's a level below and another section I saved for later on the entrance level and of course, the penguins will be out soon. I amble down, snapping pictures of the turtles and tortoises. They're adorable. They raise the heads slowly to look at me, before slowly crawling to where a pile of lettuce is sat. I wave to them and head down to see the crocodiles floating in a large tank. One's laying on the bottom of the tank. It stares and smirks at me. We make eye contact. He knows what I know. He slowly floats to the surface, one eye still on me, my eyes still on him. I film for a few seconds and watch as he breaks the surface of the water. He waves a little-clawed foot and crawls up onto the shore. What an adorable little fucker. I watch him bathe in the heat, lazily watching me for at least 10 minutes. The footsteps of children and parents wake me from my trance. I give the crocodile a small wave and head off to see the python in the other enclosure. It's massive and yellow. I find it funny for some reason.
I quietly and swiftly make my way up the stairs and into the area where there's a little tide pool. I look deep into the pool and see its filled with little black starfish, little plants and tiny fish. I watch the starfish float lazily around above the sands. I wish this aquarium had stingrays. They had them at the huge Pacific Aquarium in Huntington Beach, California. I stroked them. They were so much fun to play with; silky, soft and friendly. I couldn't get enough of them. I didn't spend much time playing around with the tidepool. I was anxious to see the penguins.
I head out through the door and to my left where a group of about two dozen penguins were huddled. They waddled around and called to each other. They were the cutest things. I got right up close, as far as the enclosure would allow and reached my hand out. A tiny little penguin waddled close to me but was unsure if he wanted to touch me. I smiled at him and he waddled back to the heard, looking back at me one last time before cuddling up to another penguin. Just as I was about to snap more pictures a fight broke out. Two penguins ran-waddled at each other, their little wingy arms outstretched making noises at one another. I filmed their fight, giggling at the outrage that filmed them. It was a playful sort of outrage though. I spent close to a half hour, if not more, watching them slide around on the ice and play with one another. So carefree. I wish I could be that carefree. I look at my watch and see that it's already 10 minutes to 4 in the afternoon. Where the fuck did the day go? I don't want to be out after dark. All of a sudden I feel so exhausted. I need to hit the gift shop. I select a small penguin toy, a few postcards and a small plush reptile and make my way to the till. The woman smiles at me and asks me if I've had the best time. I can't hide my grin. I tell her I've had the time of my life and gush about the experiences, like an 8-year-old. "I'm glad you had a good time! Are you going to write about us in your blog?" I tell her I will and almost want to ask for a hug I feel so good about everything.
I place my hand to the surface of the water and at once they all rush over to me, pushing and shoving, wanting to be pet. I stroke every fish in the tank more than once. They all take turns swimming up to me, rubbing against me and sucking on my fingers. I love them all. I almost cry with joy. Something likes me. Something wants to interact with me. I stay for an hour, maybe more, playing with the fish. They take little to no interest in the children that peer into the pound or try to stroke them. Outwardly, I project a poker face, inwardly I'm gleeful that the fishies love me. I want to take the chubby orange one with black spots home with me. Him and the shiny orange one. They're my favourites. I really want koi fish. I could set up a nice lovely tank in my room. I could play with them, waste away the hours watching them swim.
I don't want to leave the pond and the fishies but there's more of the aquarium to see. There's a level below and another section I saved for later on the entrance level and of course, the penguins will be out soon. I amble down, snapping pictures of the turtles and tortoises. They're adorable. They raise the heads slowly to look at me, before slowly crawling to where a pile of lettuce is sat. I wave to them and head down to see the crocodiles floating in a large tank. One's laying on the bottom of the tank. It stares and smirks at me. We make eye contact. He knows what I know. He slowly floats to the surface, one eye still on me, my eyes still on him. I film for a few seconds and watch as he breaks the surface of the water. He waves a little-clawed foot and crawls up onto the shore. What an adorable little fucker. I watch him bathe in the heat, lazily watching me for at least 10 minutes. The footsteps of children and parents wake me from my trance. I give the crocodile a small wave and head off to see the python in the other enclosure. It's massive and yellow. I find it funny for some reason.
I quietly and swiftly make my way up the stairs and into the area where there's a little tide pool. I look deep into the pool and see its filled with little black starfish, little plants and tiny fish. I watch the starfish float lazily around above the sands. I wish this aquarium had stingrays. They had them at the huge Pacific Aquarium in Huntington Beach, California. I stroked them. They were so much fun to play with; silky, soft and friendly. I couldn't get enough of them. I didn't spend much time playing around with the tidepool. I was anxious to see the penguins.
I head out through the door and to my left where a group of about two dozen penguins were huddled. They waddled around and called to each other. They were the cutest things. I got right up close, as far as the enclosure would allow and reached my hand out. A tiny little penguin waddled close to me but was unsure if he wanted to touch me. I smiled at him and he waddled back to the heard, looking back at me one last time before cuddling up to another penguin. Just as I was about to snap more pictures a fight broke out. Two penguins ran-waddled at each other, their little wingy arms outstretched making noises at one another. I filmed their fight, giggling at the outrage that filmed them. It was a playful sort of outrage though. I spent close to a half hour, if not more, watching them slide around on the ice and play with one another. So carefree. I wish I could be that carefree. I look at my watch and see that it's already 10 minutes to 4 in the afternoon. Where the fuck did the day go? I don't want to be out after dark. All of a sudden I feel so exhausted. I need to hit the gift shop. I select a small penguin toy, a few postcards and a small plush reptile and make my way to the till. The woman smiles at me and asks me if I've had the best time. I can't hide my grin. I tell her I've had the time of my life and gush about the experiences, like an 8-year-old. "I'm glad you had a good time! Are you going to write about us in your blog?" I tell her I will and almost want to ask for a hug I feel so good about everything.
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