Heading to Holstebro

I know what you're thinking. "Holste-what?" It's true - in terms of high-profile Danish cities, Holstebro doesn't exactly make a significant impression. This, however, is precisely why I decided to stop by - to get an idea of what small-town Denmark was like. The answer? Basically like big-city Denmark - just smaller. Who knew?

After checking out from the hostel, I headed to the train station by bicycle.  Along the way, I stopped by a bakery and bought some breakfast. Short, but heavy bouts of rainfall picked up, so I began biking from bus stop to bus stop, waiting for the rain to clear for a few minutes so I could reach the train station.

Once at the station, I had slightly over an hour to kill waiting for the proper train to arrive, so I sat in the glassed-in bench area and read Good Omens for a while.  I would later finish it on the train ride.  The book is quite enjoyable, but I find it's at its strongest when Gaiman and Pratchett are not writing in the style of Douglas Adams, despite that being one of the book's major selling points.

Anyway, the train arrived and I boarded, and found an empty seat.  Given that Holstebro isn't exactly a major hub, I had to make a transfer partway through the trip, but that took maybe 10 minutes at the most.  Exiting the train in Holstebro, I noticed that the town was laid out in much the same fashion as the bigger cities.  The center of town contained a walking district, there was plenty of support for bicycles, and public transit tied everything together neatly and efficiently.

Finding the hostel turned out to be something of a challenge.  I headed in the proper direction, but to get to the Hostel easily it was necessary to head down a level and travel under two tunnels - one leading under the rail lines and one leading under the road that encircles the city center.  The hostel itself is tucked away behind some trees.  Normally that wouldn't be so bad.  Sure, it was a bit tricky to find at first, but it has easy walking access to the city center or the train station once you know how to get there.

Photograph this at night and add some

Philip Glass music.  I dare you.

This hostel, however, is just a little bit creepy.  Not the overt creepy that makes you not want to stay there - more the mildly creepy that gnaws at your soul and seeks to drive you insane.  To begin with, it looks like a refurbished mental hospital.  You know the sort of place - it sort of looks like a mansion, but you know that nobody ever actually used it as a traditional residence, because it's just not set up that way.  The picture on the left looks unassuming, almost quaint.  In the night, however...it turns into a carnival of terror.

Let's begin with the rooms.  They're nice enough, and have two bunk beds apiece, and a table with chairs.  Not bad, not bad.  It's a little awkward that the bunks are made of metal, like they're designed to have restraints strapped to them, but that's probably just a coincidence - lots of bunks are metal.

Ok, how about the bathrooms?  For starters, these things are way too large.  They have about 2.5 times as much space as they need, probably because they're merely converted from what was formerly a standard room.  The taps (and showers) are incapable of hot water - only a tepid, paltry flow.  The showers are simply a corner of the room with a slight lip, and curtains on two sides.  Great.  Now I have to fend off knife-wielding psycho-clowns from two directions! And when you're in the cold shower, you can just feel all that space surrounding you, for no reason whatsoever.  All the doors close by themselves, but slowly, so you have time to forget you ever opened the door before it closes softly and surely with a foreboding ::click::. 

But the duvets are comfy, so that's nice.

Anyway, after unpacking and setting up, I decided to wander into town to grab a bite to eat.  After a 40 kr subsistence the day before, I was in the mood for something no-nonsense, so I decided to try the Danish equivalent of a hamburger with fries.  The food was tasty, though some differences were apparent.

• Cucumbers instead of pickles
• Bistro sauce instead of ketchup

Regardless, I could see it being right at home in a Steak n' Shake.  The fries were served with ketchup and a custom sauce that seemed to be derived from mayo, vinegar, and mustard - also very good.  With Good Omens finished, I started up with The Basic Writings of Kant while I ate.  There's a lot less humor in Kant, let me assure you.

This very plaza, in fact.

After dinner I decided to stop by the supermarket and pick up some ice
cream, because why not?  It's actually cheaper to purchase a box of ice cream sticks than to purchase a single cone at a kiosk, so that's precisely what I did.  I took the box to a plaza bench, sat down, and began reading some more.  Really, at this point, my inability to engage in sustained, meaningful interaction with the locals should have been a thing in the past.  I'm a young American sitting on a plaza bench in the middle of a small town in Denmark, reading Kant, and I have ice cream that I may or may not give you if you come over and strike up a casual conversation.  At this point I'm more interesting than the Dos Equis guy.  But no, nobody was interested, so I sat alone on a park bench, reading Kant and eating ice cream.  Did I mention I was alone? 

I headed back to the hostel, gave away the rest of my ice cream to other people in the hostel, and went to bed.