A few days in Copenhagen

Our sleeper from Utrecht to Copenhagen is novel to say the least. The handbasin swings both ways - either left over the shower, or right over the loo. Hmmm. We settle in to our bunk beds and resolve to try the shower in the morning.

The shower’s hardly worth bothering about - no water! “Sorry - technical difficulties - try again in half an hour”, says the Guard. Pauline gets through the shower ok, then it’s my turn. Just rinsing off and… no water. I send Pauline out to resolve the technical difficulties. Aeons pass. I finish my rinse with mouthwash conveniently located above the swinging handbasin, and don’t suffer any tingly ill-effects.

Sleepers are an expensive option - more than a typical overnight accommodation, so we won’t bother doing it again. From now on most of our trips will be up to four hours, and it’s much better to travel during the day and look at the scenery out the window - a luxury given I’m not driving.

It’s Friday 17 October. The train’s running late so Nikki gets to Maria’s apartment first (she flew in the night before), and greets us at the door. The weather’s a bit miserable with cloud and showers, but after setting in we resolve to start exploring.

Think of Denmark and what comes to mind? For me (in no particular order) it’s Hans Christian Andersen, trolls, Vikings, cycling, wind turbines, Great Danes (the doggy variety), Danish Blue (the cheese variety), Apple Danish (and various Danish pastries), stylish furniture, herring, Hamlet, and the Snake Bridge.

So how to map out an itinerary that includes all these? First up, let’s exclude Great Danes. I’m not a doggy person, and they should be called German Mastiffs anyway - their naming arising from the same wartime sensitivities that caused German Shepherds to be called Alsatians.

Vikings are first on the agenda, and we make our way to the National Museum via Copenhagen's sights.

A lot of fascinating pre-history to get through first, but at last we get to the descriptions and video presentations. Attacking, thieving and extorting not just England’s east coast, the Vikings also penetrated Ireland, France and Germany. The Danes are clearly a bit sensitive about their brutal past. While not quite excusing the “rapine and slaughter” at Lindisfarne (according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle of 793AD), the Danes are at pains to point out that these accounts are not quite fair, noting, “The Vikings also founded a network of flourishing towns in northern Europe”. One wonders just how enthusiastic the original inhabitants of these towns were to see the flourishing Vikings arrive.

The Hans Christian Andersen link is easy. Stories such as The Ugly Duckling and The Emperor’s

New Clothes are salient lessons embedded in western culture. Perhaps a little less known is the story of The Little Mermaid who saved a handsome prince from a shipwreck, then sat forlornly on a rock in unrequited love waiting for him to notice her. She’s now immortalised in bronze near the fort at the northern entrance to the harbour, and you can’t help but shed a tear as you look at her sad face. At least - if only all the bloody Asian tourists with their fingered V signs would get out of the way.

We wander past the Tivoli amusement park. No sign of trolls, but the witches and pumpkins are out in force. Who says Halloween is an

American import? Maybe pagan, maybe Christian, the idea of using humour and ridicule to confront the power of death is universal. The Danes certainly get a lot of fun out of it anyway.

We stop for lunch at what looks like a pretty authentic Danish cafe, and brilliant - pickled herring is part of a lunch plate offering. I’d heard horror stories of this foul-tasting fishy concoction, but I’d heard rave reviews from others. Perhaps it’s a bit of an acquired taste - like raw Bluff oysters. I gingerly grab a forkful, and to my surprise it’s not too bad. I wouldn’t have it as an entire course, but as a complement to other snacks it’s fine. The steak on the other hand is cooked to a cinder - at least they get the herring right.

We found a troll outside a souvenir shop, but even on casual inspection it’s quite obvious it’s a fake. 

Everyone knows trolls don’t wear Viking helmets. Our search for trolls continues, and I’m staying well away from the Internet on this one. Perhaps the burial mounds of Aarhus will be a more fertile hunting ground.

On the engineering side, the Danes are famed for their wind turbines and cycling infrastructure. It’s interesting while travelling to see wind turbines everywhere - in farm paddocks, shallow estuaries, and in the heart of Copenhagen, interestingly juxtaposed against a thermal power station. No nimbyism here - the Danes are cleverer than we are when it comes to sustainable power generation wherever it’s needed. Give me an elegant and slender turbine tower over a smokestack any day.

Like the Dutch, the Danes are also clever when it comes to cycling infrastructure. Bikes are everywhere, and the “Copenhagen lane” style providing a buffer of parked cars between cyclists and motor vehicles predominates, But the Danes are at their cleverest when they realise that a strategic cycling linkage between two suburbs separated by a broad canal is missing, so they promptly build an elegant and functional cycle bridge - the Snake Bridge. Makes you weep when you think that for 50 years walking and cycling Aucklanders have been waiting for their own elegant harbour crossing bridge, and even now its

progress isn’t assured. And when we get it we’ll be tolled to use it.

It’s pissing down on Sunday, Nikki’s got a bug and chooses to stay in the apartment, but undeterred Pauline and I head out to brave the elements. Intrepid travellers don’t let a bit of rain put them off. But as the wind and rain get steadily heavier, we figure the local mall constitutes an excellent tourist attraction. We’ve now educated the Dutch on flat whites, and now it’s time for the Danes to understand there’s more to coffee and milk than lattes and cappuccinos. To our surprise the cafe in the mall has Flat White on the menu - a rarity! And they do a good line in Danish pastries too. An enquiry re an Apple Danish gets a blank look, so I figure this must just be a Sarah Lee special.

My waterproof hiking shoes I specially got for the wet and cold of Canada many years ago are letting me down. As we splash through ever-deepening puddles I feel the level of dampness around my toes steadily increase, and now there’s a definite squelching sound. For weeks I’ve been looking for new boots without success, but now the time is nigh. As luck would have it, we pass an Ecco store with some nice hiking boots with Gortex liners - just the ticket. A bit embarrassing peeling off my wet socks to reveal gross black-stained feet, but I hasten to reassure them I haven’t just flown in from West Africa. With the new boots, it’s like walking on air getting back to the apartment.

We start thinking about our trip north, and Kronborg Castle.
To go or not to go, that is the question.
Whether tis better to spend a day in Elsinore, or proceed north to Aarhus as planned. 

(Apologies to Bill).

We decide on the latter. It’s been great staying in Maria’s apartment, even with the dodgy lights, intermittent flatties, and their barking (mad) cocker spaniel with the enormous feet and sad excuse for a tail.

We have our good bye hug with Nik on a street corner. She’s off to the airport and back to Amsterdam, both to recuperate from her cold and hopefully pass an international law exam.

Pauline and I choose the playground route to the railway station. The main route down the Istedgade takes us through the less than salubrious red light district. Not quite like Amsterdam’s with the ladies in the window, but the graphic sex toys are a bit off-putting.

We board the train to Aarhus and reflect on Copenhagen. Another very liveable European city, despite the damper weather, being located further north. A bit more grunge than Amsterdam. A few more beggars, a bit more graffiti. But what a place to bike in!

So what have I missed? Classy furniture? Yup - saw that in lots of shop windows. Pretty blonde girls? Yup - plenty of those, though they weren’t on the list and of course on my honeymoon I’m not noticing. Proper trolls? Danish Blue? Guess they’ll have to wait till Aarhus. The train speeds through the rolling Danish countryside just touching 160kph. We’ll be there soon.