When I arrived at my hotel in Denmark yesterday, I felt like I was in an Aki Kaurismäki film. It was ten thirthy on a Sunday night. I had not eaten anything. I sat at the bar and asked for a sandwich and a beer. There was nobody but the bartender and a group of three Danish drunk men. Later I was in my impersonal bedroom and as I was in bed, the situation reminded me of the follwing scene in the Jim Jarmush film Mystery Train:
Monday 25 August 2008
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