My journey would take me away from the cold, rainy capital, with its modern buildings and unfriendly people, to the depths of the country, equally cold, rainy and slightly unfriendly. It was bewildering how this country worked, prompting me to pursue the Quest for the Friendly People, which seemed an elusive species here. Yet I had hope, as I approached my destination: Herlufsholm, the boarding school. Or as I would call it, Hogwarts.
The rain had a persistancy akin to drug peddlers at the corner of a dodgy street in Amsterdam (are any of them not dodgy?) after the sun had set and the drunks had started roaming the pavements: it was annoying and constantly there. Small and petty, it kept coming down to make my life miserable. Yet, you know me, I can’t help myself but try and make everything cheery and full of much more excitement than it actually is.