The airlines held us hostage. Then, they tossed us around, and threw us out in Copenhagen, exactly one day late. But when we finally arrived, a little beat up, the city was surprisingly sunny and warm…actually unseasonably hot. We were now down to just a half day to see the sights before we boarded our cruise ship, proving once again, the wisdom of booking arrival a few days early, to avoid missing the ship’s embarkation.
Copenhagen’s city center, with a population of 565,000 is dense, compact, winding, and, with a map, easy to explore on foot, with many of the city’s highlights closely situated. Our hotel was in the Latin Quarter, by the university, a neighborhood with more edgy boutiques, casual bars and eateries, and students enjoying the al fresco weather. The preferred modes of transportation in this city are walking and bicycling, not necessarily in that order. Many streets are “pedestrian friendly”, including the Stroget, Copenhagen’s famous shopping street in the center of town, and many are barely wide enough for a car. Bicycles are everywhere but, unlike Amsterdam, where cyclists are a danger to pedestrians, the Danes ride with a more relaxed, casual flair, deftly swerving in and out to avoid people and obstacles. The bikes are generally taller, with large round wheels, and often outfitted with a Dorothy-and-Toto type of basket on the front or back fender, and a cheery bell to signal advance warning of their approach.
The Danish, and Scandinavians in general, are known for their minimalist, clean, intentionally functional and spare design. We found this abruptly true in our hotel room, and, along with the New Zealand Kiwis and maybe the Finns, this country seems to be among the most vehement about environmental protection, to the point of being almost a national anthem. Their design approach also applies to street fashion, at least in Copenhagen, where sophisticated urbanites dress with a decidedly spare design sensibility, and a confident air of natural style and lack of self consciousness. It is almost a “uniform” of black, linear, hip, layered styles, and chunky platform sandals, black or white kicks for the modelista women, and men sporting slim, black jeans or suits with black t-shirts, sockless sneakers or oxfords, and elaborately tattooed arms. Notwithstanding the summer season’s exposure to long northern days of perpetual sunshine, the people here characteristically have a clear-eyed, fresh-faced, bronzed glow, with a predominance of attractive, natural, sun-kissed, frost tipped hair, the women’s often long and casual, and the men’s cropped close on the sides and spiked on top, with a European flair.
The Friday we arrived in Copenhagen it was, notably, the last day of secondary school before summer break, which apparently initiates a longstanding tradition of graduates riding throughout the city in large open, decorated buses, drinking and dancing the night away in celebration. They could be heard all evening by their approaching music and revelry, virtually ignored by the locals as merely a rite of passage.
The city streets are mostly paving bricks and cobblestones lined with charming stone buildings and colorfully painted wooden houses with crisp white trim and neat window boxes of pansies and spring flowers. Their important historic buildings are slightly reminiscent of Russian architecture, but with more playful fairytale spirals, patinated copper towers, and elaborate details of gilded filigree and spheres. One of the best-equipped in the world, the Copenhagen Opera House, built from 2001 to 2004 on the island of Holmen at the shore of the harbor, reflects their love of modern design, and dotted throughout the city are pre-fabricated, boxy rectangular “tiny house” complexes and semi-temporary stacked “offices”, similar to reclaimed shipping containers, very modern, efficient, and environmentally conscious. The city is a pleasing marriage of historic tradition and contemporary modern.
We had dinner at the Fish Market, a lively bistro in the quaint, trendy Nyhavn district on the canals, serving great local fish and seafood and just-now-harvested spring produce from this far northern growing region. Food and wine prices, as well as lodging in Scandinavia, are breathtakingly expensive. And, while the locals are friendly enough and most speak English, they are not particularly noted for their overt customer service. But, our helpful, attentive young waitress, and delicious local fare made amends.
The next morning, we boarded our ship, Nautica, which was docked in the perfect spot for a last dash to some city sights before our departure at 6:00 p.m., right across from Churchill Park and Langelinie Promenade, teeming with families and tourists on a sunny Saturday afternoon. I took a walk and noticed what appeared to be a christening party at the pier, with young couples sporting the latest fashion, sipping celebratory champagne, and boarding a ferry for a festive canal cruise. Just a couple of blocks at the other end of the pier was the Little Mermaid, the small bronze statue sculpted by Edvard Eriksen in 1913 from the fairytale of Copenhagen’s own Hans Christian Andersen, set upon rocks at the mouth of the harbor as a legendary beacon and Copenhagen’s most famous icon. I passed the Anglican church of St. Alban’s, built in 1887, on the way back to the city’s charming pier, overseen by Neptune from above one of the stately towers flanking its entrance.
Copenhagen’s appeal is unobtrusive. It lets you mind your own business, but kind of grows on you, and its design sense is addictive to the graphic designer in me. I may just have to come back and reclaim that lost day.
Loved your abbreviated tour of Copenhagen! Dick said he spent several days there in 1964 or ’65. Remembered vividly dodging the bike riders. Many thanks for sharing your travels!
Beautiful pictures and a well written summary of your stay, Kristy!