St Patrick’s Day (see pages G12-15 for our special section) marks my sixth year working for the Copenhagen Post. After approaching the paper for a job in 2003 and getting nowhere with a few pieces I submitted, four years later I dropped off some articles I’d written for the official Roskilde Festival newspaper in 2006. I didn’t really care either way whether they got in touch – by that time my opinion of the paper had bottomed out and I thought they could do with the help.
So I guess I was a little surprised when I was asked to write a pub review, a preview of the 3-Legged Race (see G2) and a general piece about Ireland. Two thousand words later and the editor of InOut had a good idea of where I was coming from. My A-Z of Ireland was no-holds barred cynicism and depravity – “laddish” was how she put it, which beat “facetious”, the one-word review I’d received in 2003, and “obviously written by an Englishman”, the response I got off Jonno, the landlord of the Irish Rover.
That was her opportunity to say sorry Mr Hamilton, that’s not what we’re about: we have standards! But instead, she welcomed me in, a viper to her breast (metaphorically of course), and within a year I’d stolen her job – and to think the warning signs were in my work.
Looking ahead to Sunday, it promises to be another explosion of green as thousands take to the probably snowy streets to participate in the parade (G12-13) and the race, either as competitors or bystanders. But if you miss out, don’t worry, as there will be plenty more explosions of green later on in the night, after a few jars of the black stuff.
And on Saturday, the city’s buildings will be turning green with envy as the Little Mermaid joins a list of famous landmarks, including the Leaning Tower of Pisa, by being bathed in green light especially for St Patrick’s Day (G8).
Elsewhere, fans of break dancing, sorry break-boying, which sounds a little too much like breaking in boys to me, will be pleased to know Floor Wars (see G9) is returning, while motorcyclist enthusiasts should give Arena Circus (G8) a whirl – the giant ball they hurtle around in, just avoiding one another, needs to be seen to be believed.
That and running through the snow tied to another person. It’s a week for the brave alright.
