It’s been a while since I have been on the road. But finally, time’s up and on this day I put my touring bike with all my stuff on the train. Ahead of me is a few months touring in South East Asia. First, I need to get to Copenhagen Airport where an Aeroflot plane awaits to take me to Moscow and then Bangkok. In the train I am hit with a sudden moment of inspiration as I decide that it would be fitting to do at least some riding in Denmark as part of the trip. I’m familiar with the road to get there, I know it’s about 20 km and most of it is actually a nice ride. Actually, it should not take much longer than the train.

I make a stop to take a few pictures. It is cold as in a deep freezer and it and of course it turns out I have a headwin. All things add up, so it takes a bit longer than I predicted. I even manage to make a wrong turn sending me a couple of km in the wrong direction – and how am I going to find my way in Asia with signs in strange languages I don’t read?

It’s therefore with less time, than I could have hoped for, I finally show up in the airport and occupy a space in front of Aerflot’s counter where I furiously begins dismantling my bicycle before I wrap it up in various protective materials. Nobody seems to care much, in fact the Aeroflot staff just notices my progress. When it’s paying time, the Russian hammer falls hard on my head – the charge for bringing my bicycle is almost half of my ticket. I mutter that I swear to never support anything Russian again. If the huge amount of money I had to pay for my bicycle got me hoping that the staff handling the luggage would actually treat it with care … well, think again. The guy in the odd size booth is obviously in a bad mood or just need to show who’s the king of the territory. Initially he declines to deal with my bicycle as it is to big to fit in the x-ray. I have to explain that I checked that the size confirm to airline standards and that I have had the same bicycle with me before where they didn’t feel the need to make a fuss about it. In fact, my bicycle have been x-rayed more often than I ever had. Guy grunts, x-rays my bicycle (no problem, passes right through) before he walks off with it, while I forget any hope about special treatment and reduces my ambitions from “received with no serious scratches” to “just being delivered in one piece.” Now, I only have to go through the security check and as it is clearly my lucky day, I am pulled aside and asked if I could please empty the content of my bag and explain the use of every gizmo in my bag (filled with photography stuff). That done, I have 20 minutes to run through the commercial hell that constitutes the average airport. I am finally off to Moscow.

In the connecting flight from Moscow I get company by a Russian fellow who have clearly just had a vodka or ten as he’s clearly in a splendid mood. As soon as he is seated his head drop forwards and he falls into a deep sleep. The next couple of hours he spend in this position while leaking saliva down his shirt, much to the amusement of not only me but also the other travelers who find this about as amusing as the movies on display.

In Bangkok’s airport I find my bicycle waiting for me and put up the same show only this time in reverse. Putting everything together before I decide to put the bike on a bus with the assistance of the driver, who happens to be in a terrific mood. I go straight for Chinatown where I find a hotel closely located to the main train station.

To the airport. Last ride on Danish soil for a while.