It may be stating the obvious but the first thing you really do notice is the bicycles. They’re everywhere and everyone is riding them. Not like the Canberra bike riders, kitted up in all their colourful gear. Here people ride bikes in the clothes they would wear walking or in the car. They ride in coats and skirts and heels. Biking really is a mode of public transport here – no racing bikes, no fancy mountain bikes. They’re all old school with the basket on the front and with mud guards.

The hotel was really only five minutes from the train station so I mad a bee-line to sort the money stuff out. I wasn’t looking forward to another sketchy shared bathroom experience like the one in Finland. Fortuitously, the hotel upgraded me – a double bed and my own bathroom – just like a regular hotel room (apart from the fact someone thought olive green was a great decorating colour. After a few more protracted phone calls with the visa people and the Commonwealth Bank, it was decided that I would receive my replacement card in Germany and some emergency cash by wire transfer this evening [‘The Mercy Seat’ – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – I’m not quite as angry as Nick and while I may not be afraid to die, I’m not ready yet]

So my next port of call was a Western Union agent. You see it in the movies – people anxiously waiting for someone to wire them money. I never thought it would be me. I decided the train station was a better option than some deli around the corner because there may at least be some guards. So I ventured up there, past the dodgy types that gather around train stations at night, just about anywhere in the world, past the sign warning that people at the money exchange should be wary of pickpockets. The maths did my head in from AUD to USD to Danish Krone and then to Euro. Being Scandinavian is hard work. Apart from speaking about three languages, you also have to do maths in your head! [‘Deanna’ – something a bit more upbeat (well as upbeat as you get from Nick)].

Cashed up, I was ready for a stroll. It was then that I realised I was staying in the middle of Copenhagen’s Kings Cross although much sleazier. The thing about the cross is there are police cruising, lots of people walking about and lots of light along the strip. In Copenhagen, the area is dark, dirty, seedy and there are loads of dodgy looking people on the corners. Maybe I’ve watched too many episodes of The Wire lately but I didn’t feel safe walking around alone. I am sure if there was someone with me, I would have been fine but as it was, I felt a bit like a target. Daytime on a Monday is probably a better time to look around.