This morning I had a close call.
Let me back up. Since I became a nomad on a sailboat in July, one of my main quests has been finding access to hot showers. Clean bathrooms that have showers with strong, blasting water pressure. Bonus when they give you big, fluffy towels and soap, but they're marinas and not spas. It's a result of going for days without being able to have one. And of being a person who usually bathes 2 (in winter) or 3 (in summer) times a day. I know that's too much but I do it anyway, usually. I've been pretty enamored with this marina because the showers closest to our boat, although not free like the fantastic ones in Falmouth, fit the bill.
I packed my shower bag and walked over there this morning, only to find the doors locked. Was this because of yesterday's Perfect Storm that had nearly flooded the docks and left me in tears because the boat was too high for me to reach? I tried to ask a worker who ambled by, but he didn't speak English. One of the things I've noticed about Denmark is that everyone speaks English... until I need practical information, at which time they all run for cover.
I decided to take a chance and continue to the showers that are a little farther away. In these, the water pressure is lacking but the rooms are luxuriously heated. I hesitantly reached for the doorknob, just knowing I was going to get shot down. It turned. They were open. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. It's the little things!
I ditched my clothes and turned on the knob, dropping in my 5-kroner token. As if to reward me for my inconvenience, the hot water stuck around ten times longer than its allotted, meager 3 minutes. I even washed my hair (a huge endeavor you'd understand if you saw my hair).
This 40-minute sequence of events is so inconsequential but it made my day. I left that shower whistling and smiling at everyone I passed.