Morning Run in Copenhagen – Part 1: Harbour Loop

Bastian had been running the harbour loop in Copenhagen for three years, and in all that time he had learned three things about the man in the yellow jacket.

He ran at six-fifteen. He always took the inside lane by the old warehouses. And he never once looked up when they passed each other on the bridge at Nyhavn, though Bastian had seen him glance down at his watch every single morning, as if checking that the world was still on time.

Bastian called him Yellow Jacket in his head. He had never said a word to him.

On a grey Tuesday in late October, the rain came in sideways off the Øresund, cold and relentless. The streetlights glowed through the mist, and the harbour water was black and choppy. Bastian was halfway round the loop, soaked to the skin, when he heard footsteps behind him and a voice called out.

"Excuse me!"

He turned. Yellow Jacket was jogging towards him, hood up, face wet and flushed, his breath clouding in the cold.

"I'm sorry," said the man, a little breathlessly, in careful English. "I've been running this loop for two years, and I've never once got lost. But this morning, the bridge is closed for repairs. Do you know another way round?"

Bastian stared at him. He had imagined a hundred different first sentences. None of them had involved a closed bridge.

"Yes," he said, when he could speak again. "Follow me. There's a path along the canal, behind the warehouses. It's longer, but it's lovely when the sun comes up."

"It's raining."

"Then it'll be lovely in a different way," said Bastian, and grinned.

The man laughed, a bright, startled sound that echoed off the wet stone walls. "I'm Anders," he said. "I'm a civil engineer, and I'm very bad with directions, which is why I run in circles. Thank you for not laughing at me."

"I'm Bastian. I'm a baker. I'm very bad at waking up before six, which is why I run before breakfast."

"That's a terrible excuse."

"It's the only one I've got," said Bastian. "Shall we?"

They ran side by side along the canal, the rain drumming on the water and the lights of the city blurring around them. Anders matched his pace easily, breathing steady, looking across at Bastian now and then with a small, curious smile.

"You always look at your watch," said Bastian, between breaths.

"You always look at the water," said Anders. "I thought you were the most peaceful man in Copenhagen. I've been trying to work out what you're thinking about every morning."

"And?"

"I'm still working it out," said Anders. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to have coffee with me, after the run, in the bakery where you work? I'd like to see if you're as peaceful at the counter as you are on the water."

Bastian's heart gave a quick, nervous thump. "Yes," he said. "But only if you promise not to look at your watch the whole time."

"Deal," said Anders, and his grin was slow and warm. "Green?"

"Green," said Bastian, breathless and happy, as the rain began to ease and the first pale light touched the harbour. "Very green. Race you to the next bridge."