Peter and I often went to Denmark. Doing reportage about people and places. Ususally we went there by train. After being quite for half an hour, reading the paper, Peter looked out through the window, halted a while, thought a for a moment and said something he was quite sure of: "From here comes Harry Hjörne.." I caught the moment, it was ten o´clock. The year was 1986. We were both in the beginning of something. Then we arrived at Helsingborg, took a ferry to Elsinore, where Hamlet once dwelled, and from there on rail to Copenhagen.