The closed Tivoli – good thing too in the snow

The most photographed place in Denmark – in the summer

Pretty in the snow

The gate to Christiania

I had only planned a quick stop in Copenhagen (something had to give for Santa) but the visa drama and my trepidation at wandering through the red light district crunched that time frame much further. I decided this was one of those times I had to put my fear of mornings aside and get up as early as I could so I could at least see some of Copenhagen. Sure I wasn’t going to have enough time to bag a prince but I don’t think the Danes would allow two Australians in their palace(s) anyway. [‘Love will tear us apart’ Joy Division – sure it’s a song (and band) definitely born in the bleakness of northern England but traveling through the wintry, grey of Denmark, it seems thoroughly appropriate. I hadn’t quite realized until this trip how much of my favourite music has a wintry vibe (except for the summery Jamaican tones of my ska collection of course).] I set the alarm for 6am and crawled out of bed 20 minutes later. It was snowing outside and looked delightful. I got dressed and headed out with my fast-paced itinerary memorized.

Travel tip no. 16 – there is a reason people in cold countries wear their pants short or rolled up – they get wet walking in the snow. I am now onto my jeans which in true Australian style are so long that the bit that falls on my heel is all scuffed. Not great for Copenhagen in the winter.  The temperature in Denmark is above zero so despite the fact it was snowing, the snow on the ground quickly became soft, sludgey and wet. And of course the fabric in my jeans just kept soaking it up. The wet always makes it colder too – even with my Scandinavian boots on, for the first time on the trip, my feet actually felt cold.

Attire issues aside, I set off around Denmark, which while postcard pretty in the snow, really is a city built for summer and spring. Tivoli, the infamous amusement park is closed for winter and it’s not hard to see why. A snow-covered roller coaster probably wouldn’t meet with any kind of OH&S standards for the driver or the passengers. Next stop was a wander up the most photographed street in Denmark, Nyhavn canal – pretty in the snow but I imagine the summer sun makes the coloured apartment buildings much more vibrant.

From there, I wandered across the main canal to check out Christiania. Succession aside, it mostly reminded me Nimbin – a place set up as a peaceful, organic nirvana in the 60s that over the past five decades has deteriorated and become a haven for those escaping society and themselves rather than actively working to enjoy a different way to personal prosperity. Having said that, there was a great little art gallery there and a couple of venues listing an impressive gig list of mostly unknown bands. [‘Television, the drug of the nation’ – Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy. Yes it is and it’s mine – but like all drugs, it depends on how you use it.]

After my walk through Christiania, I wandered around the adjacent upscale Christianshavn area and then back across the canal to Mary’s house. Well one of the ones that will be hers if the trash mags would stop discussing how bad her life is. No sightings of Mary. Not surprising really. I live in Canberra and, unlike some people, I haven’t had a single sighting of Kevin. The best I can manage is Laurie Oakes at the theatre, Ros Kelly in a chemist, Annabelle Crabb at a Christmas barbecue and Alexander Downer at the Leagues Club but that was in Kiama.

Next stop was the Danish Design Centre. Not surprisingly, there was yet another lighting exhibition but rather than focusing on form in the way the Swedish lighting did, this was about technology, including a house that was wired to adjust the lighting based on how much sunlight was available in the room – probably only useful in Australia in offices – it’s pretty simple, you turn the lights on at home when it’s night time. My favourite was the chair that projected coloured light onto the wall based on the colour of the cushion on the chair. There was also Sony’s latest screen. Not LCD or Plasma but OLED. I’m sure one of the techno geeks amongst you will understand it but the screen was amazing – very clear, 3D almost.

There was just enough time left for a final Danish pitstop. Yep you guessed it – Smørrebrød for brunch. I got two – pastrami, mayo, dried onion (I think) and pickles; and boiled egg, bacon, lettuce and a tangy mayonnaise. On a pumpernickel rye bread of course. It was from a takeaway Smørrebrød store called Copenhagen corner which I imagine is a chain (or at least hoping to be in the future – kind of like a Danish version of Subway with much better food. While I was eating them the TV was showing Danish breakfast television with a whole segment on the Australian bushfires and their relationship to global warming (at least they were the words and pictures I could work out). Everywhere I go in Europe, people ask whether I lost anyone I know in the bushfires. It has been quite prominent on the news here.

After brunch I wandered back to my hotel (in the red light district), took a brief look at the quite bizarre stuff in some of the shops – Adam and Eve has nothing on Danish sex shops. A note here – be careful with the television in Danish hotel rooms if you are sensitive to this kind of material. While the previews for porn in Australian hotels are moistly in the suggestive nudity category, Danish porn is hardcore and even the previews on the channel scroll are pretty full on. And no, I didn’t pay to do any more research than that! [‘Wide open road’ – The Triffids – nothing like listening to an Australian song with evoking the feel of wide open Australian highways while traveling on a German train in the cold dark of winter on the way to Berlin.]

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.