På en kølig efterårsdag i København, svævede de gyldne blade i vinden omkring Copenhill.

On a cool autumn day in København, the golden leaves floated in the wind around Copenhill.

Det var her, på den kunstige skipiste ovenpå et forbrændingsanlæg, at Freja og Nikolaj stod klar med ski under fødderne.

It was here, on the artificial ski slope atop a waste incinerator plant, that Freja and Nikolaj stood ready with skis on their feet.

De havde begge store drømme om at mestre denne mærkelige bakke, men sandheden var, at deres færdigheder var lige så skrøbelige som den efterårsprægede brise.

They both had big dreams of mastering this peculiar hill, but the truth was that their skills were as fragile as the autumn breeze.

Freja, spændt men nervøs, kiggede op ad den stejle bakke.

Freja, excited but nervous, looked up the steep slope.

Hun ønskede at imponere Nikolaj med mod, men var rædselsslagen indeni.

She wanted to impress Nikolaj with courage but was terrified inside.

Nikolaj, på den anden side, havde store ord om hans fantasifulde skieventyr.

Nikolaj, on the other hand, boasted of his imaginative ski adventures.

Han smilte selvsikkert, selvom han knap kunne skelne mellem en skistav og en stavblender.

He smiled confidently, although he could barely distinguish between a ski pole and a blender.

"Vi skal bare tage det roligt," foreslog Freja forsigtigt.

"We should just take it easy," suggested Freja cautiously.

"Måske kan vi starte med børnebakken?"

"Maybe we could start with the children's slope?"

Men Nikolaj insisterede: "Nej, vi klarer den store!

But Nikolaj insisted: "No, we'll tackle the big one!

Jeg har en lille overraskelse til dig, Freja.

I have a little surprise for you, Freja.

Lad os gå op!"

Let's go up!"

De begyndte deres klodsede rejse op ad bakken.

They began their clumsy journey up the hill.

Nikolaj prøvede at vise en selvsikker mine, men snublede næsten, da sneen opførte sig som et vådt tæppe under ham.

Nikolaj tried to maintain a confident facade but almost stumbled as the snow acted like a wet carpet under him.

Freja, på den anden side, sled og kæmpede, og gav efter for Nikolajs vovede forslag.

Freja, on the other hand, toiled and struggled, giving in to Nikolaj's daring proposal.

Hun var besluttet på ikke at være en kylling.

She was determined not to be a chicken.

"Se mig!"

"Watch me!"

råbte Nikolaj, da han endelig stod på toppen.

Nikolaj shouted as he finally stood at the top.

Han gik i gang med en elegant, eller snarere kluntet, nedfart.

He attempted an elegant, or rather clumsy, descent.

Et skridt til højre, to til venstre—og så pludselig rutschede han baglæns og endte i en høballer.

One step to the right, two to the left—and then suddenly he slid backwards and ended up in a hay bale.

Freja knækkede sammen af grin.

Freja burst out laughing.

"Jeg tror, jeg bliver her," mumlede hun og tog en mere forsigtig rute ned ad den lille bakke.

"I think I'll stay here," she murmured and took a more cautious route down the small hill.

Men selv her var der udfordringer.

But even here there were challenges.

Hun snurrede, gled og kæmpede for at holde balancen, indtil også hun ramlede lige ind i en høballer.

She spun, slid, and battled to keep her balance until she too crashed straight into a hay bale.

De to kiggede på hinanden og kunne ikke undgå at bryde ud i latter.

The two looked at each other and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

De glemte snart deres ambitioner om at imponere hinanden.

They soon forgot their ambitions to impress each other.

I stedet tog de hinanden i hånden og tumlede ned ad resten af bakken sammen.

Instead, they held hands and tumbled down the rest of the hill together.

De glædede sig over hinandens selskab, mens København blinkede i baggrunden, med sine tårne og spir i silhuet mod den grå himmel.

They enjoyed each other's company while København shimmered in the background, its towers and spires silhouetted against the gray sky.

Da de nåede bunden af bakken, udmattede men glade, så Freja på Nikolaj og smilede.

When they reached the bottom of the hill, exhausted but happy, Freja looked at Nikolaj and smiled.

"Det var sjovere, end jeg turde tro."

"That was more fun than I dared to imagine."

Nikolaj nikkede oprigtigt.

Nikolaj nodded sincerely.

"Det er vist bedst, når man er ærlig, ikke?"

"It's probably best to be honest, isn't it?"

De gik væk fra bakken, arm i arm, med et nyt perspektiv på både sig selv og hinanden.

They walked away from the hill, arm in arm, with a new perspective on both themselves and each other.

Uanset hvor klodsede deres skiløb havde været, havde de lært en værdifuld lektie: det er vigtigere at have det sjovt end at imponere.

No matter how clumsy their skiing had been, they had learned a valuable lesson: it's more important to have fun than to impress.

Og det var en dag, de sent ville glemme.

And it was a day they would not soon forget.