Category Archives: Journalism

Bridget

The time i visited the drug addicts in Vesterbro and the hippies in Christiania, Copenhagen.

House in Christiania. Leonie and I left our new journo friend Claus in his apartment at 2am with music blasting and empty bottles of Spanish champagne on his table. buy discount cialis Waking up at 7am the next morning was not an enlightening prospect, especially when it was assignment day. Traipsing around the city of Copenhagen looking for stories and playing the role of foriegn correspondents usually requires a somewhat sober state, which at this point in time I seemed to be lacking. But with…

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The time i forced my way into the offices of a left-wing Danish newspaper in Copenhagen, Denmark

Politiken offices, Copenhagen. I’m in Copenhagen this week for a school trip. Our teacher, Asbjorn was so kind as to set us up with a bunch of appointments with organizations including Berlingske Media, the European Environmental Agency and the Danish Defence Force. Myself and many of my classmates were then so kind as to nearly miss all of those appointments. Copenhagen really is a biking city, possibly because there’s no way in hell you can rely on the buses to get you there on time.…

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The time i chatted to a Syrian shop keeper.

One thing I’ve really noticed about Denmark is how gentrified certain areas are. There’s actually a “ghetto list”. If more than half an area’s residents are immigrants, if 40% are unemployed and 270 out of 10,000 residents have a conviction, the area makes the list. Bazar Vest is a market place out in one of these ghetto areas and i spent a day there wandering around. The stall holders are immigrants from countries like Palestine, Turkey, Lebanon, Somalia, Syria. Chatting to the shopkeepers, eating Turkish…

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The time i visited a Danish ghetto in Brabrand, Aarhus.

This is just a post to let everyone know that I’m alive and well in Denmark. I haven’t been able to update because school has been really, really hectic. I’ll give you a quick rundown of my first two days. Monday, 9am, we all shuffle in a little bewildered and still probably a little scared of each other, to greet our kind of intimidating teacher Asbjorn. Our first assignment: we have until 4pm the next day to hand in one 2000 character story, one 700…

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The time i got detained at Beauvais airport, France.

Something stinks. Something really fucking stinks. It’s either me, the sad,limp and horrendously stained little slip of pink cushion beneath my head or the towel misguidedly wrapped around it in an attempt to protect said head from said stains. purchase viagra Or maybe it’s the mysterious lumpy object in the toilet that spooked me from turning on the light and illuminating it’s precise nature. Was it a huge turd or just toilet paper? Or a huge turd topped off with a wad of toilet paper?…

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