Traditional and Modern

Goddag

Because of my experiences with weather last summer in Amsterdam, I bought and packed a coat.  Today I wore it and felt grateful to have it.  I wasn't the only one. I felt better seeing the Danes wrapped up as well.  There was plenty of cold and wind today but no rain except for some drips

I took a long walk clear to the other side of town.  I followed the signs for the Lille Havfrue.  That translates literally to Little Sea Woman.

Cool!  The Little Mermaid herself!

Yes.  She's not very big and she just kind of sits there and yearns.  The folk of Copenhagen seem awfully proud of her, and a tourist can find lots of souvenirs with her image and form.  Tourists go for her, too.  I did not approach very closely, but she was surrounded by tour groups off the buses as well as lots of other visitors.

I turned away to the Castellet.  This is one of those star shaped fortresses meant to defend part of the harbor—from Swedes, I guess--with artillery.  It's still an active military base, but it's also a park with joggers and a fair number of tourists. Would any military base in the USA let tourists in with their cameras to wander around—almost at will?  Ha!

I had a great time walking the ramparts and exploring and not minding the wind because I had my coat on.  Don't let fortress or military give you the wrong impression.  Trees and ponds abound and the area is lush with wild flowers.

On my way back I dropped into the Danish Design Museum.  I had the impression that this was going to be historic with lots of period rooms.  Well, not quite.  The Danes like to mix in a lot of contemporary design and art long with the historic stuff.  Frankly I was taken by the dress made out of drinking straws.  It's hands off the old stuff, but one can touch and even try on some of the new.

Gee, I bet all that walking built up an appetite, eh Pil?

You can stop hinting.  I went back for smorrebrod—veal with capers, some sauce and parsley, beef with lettuce, pickle, a little pinch of cheese and something I couldn’t figure out what it was, and ham with chopped cucumber and tomato and some butter lettuce. All of them were wonderful.  I asked the nice Danish ladies at the shop how to say “tasty” in Dansk.  Es smag god—that's close anyway.  I washed it down with Danish beer.
Farvel

Sculpture and Sausage

Goddag

I thought it was some kind of joke but no.  Danes really eat burgers with a knife and fork.  Seriously.  I have seen this with my own eyes.  The rule seems to be that if one is at an actual table with a plate, one uses a knife and fork on whatever is before one, but it’s all right to use hands if one is just walking along.  So many tourists come to Copenhagen I don’t think Danes care what the rest of us do with burgers.

Then I came across a dude got up like Hans Christian Andersen explaining to a group of horrified Americans that Danes handed over forty percent of their income to the government.  They get good value for their money including health care and free college education.  Despite their reverence for their royal family, I have the impression that Danes value egalitarianism.  No "elite" universities exist in Denmark, so students wanting one need to study abroad.

I enjoyed a bright sunny day for a change.  I went out early to walk around the town.  I revisited Christianborgslot.  My first stop was the Thorvaldsen Museum.  I just regarded this as an Art History duty visit to tick off thinking I'd spend half an hour looking at a few statues.  Boy was I wrong!

The Torvald Museum is Denmark's oldest and the Neo Classical building it occupies is worth seeing on its own.  I went early and spent hours in a largely empty museum having all those statues to myself!

I'm glad you had a nice time.  Who or what is this Thorvaldsen?

He's Denmark's great artist—although he did most of his work in Rome.  Bertel Thorvald  was handsome Dane who created neo classical sculptures—the great skill and beauty and yet . . .  little expressiveness.  His bas reliefs are better as they show move movement and interaction.  You might get tired of the Greek gods and goddesses or the flattering portrait busts.

I liked the Alexander Frieze, which was commissioned by one of the King Christians for Christianborgslot.  Torvaldsen always made casts of his sculptures, so he could sell copies, so I could study the relief up close in the museum and later I saw it in one of the state apartments of the palace.  His other great work is a free-standing sculpture group of Christ and the Twelve Apostles minus Judas and plus Paul.  He made that for Vor Frue (i.e. Our Lady) or the Copenhagen Cathedral just down the street from my apartment.  I'll visit it later, but now let us enter Christianborgslot itself.

In order to see the royal reception rooms one dons blue plastic shoe shields to protect the marble and parquet floors from one's plebeian soles.  I found the place well worth visiting.  Grandeur, gilt, molded ceilings, velvet covered walls are laid on thick and most of it looks gorgeous.  An exception is the awful modern tapestries hanging in the state dining room.  They are brightly colored but distorted and disturbing.  I think one of the panels is meant to be Queen Margarethe and her consort Prince Henrick as Adam and Eve.  Oh dear.  If I were ever invited to a banquet in this setting the sight of those tapestries would put me off my feed!

One can also visit the ruins under the castle.  This is more interesting than it sounds because of the excellent explanation provided of the different levels and techniques of construction.

And you ate?

The Polsger are hot dogs—sorta.  One gets them from Polsgervogn or sausage wagon on main squares, and they are the traditional Danish street food.  A variety of sausage is on offer, and I got the most common kind.  Well, it tasted fine.  I think one has to be hungry to enjoy one.  I was and I did.  But the color!  The only time I’ve seen food that color it was candy.  It’s a sort of seriously unnatural coral red.  I don’t know what gives it that color and since I put some in my mouth, chewed it up, and swallowed it, I don’t want to know.  Ok?  It’s on a white bread bun with catsup.

Gick!!

Yes, I know catsup on a hot dog in the USA is enough to doom one to the ninth circle of hell, but I’m in Denmark.  It also featured mustard, remoulade sauce (Don’t blame me!  It’s the Danes’ favorite), raw onion and sweet pickles.  So I’ve had one and now I can go back to smorrebrod.

Farvel

Life Among the Royals

Goddag

A good night’s sleep at last!  I don’t know whether the nightclub had a slow night for a change or whether I was so exhausted at last that noise didn’t matter.

I went to the grocery store I liked only to find out it opened late Saturday morning, so I went to the other one and found they didn’t have what I was looking for.  So I had to stop on the way back—just getting some hummus and pasta.

Rain was in the forecast, but it was not raining, so I strolled down Stroget to Nyhaven. The New Harbor—new in the nineteenth century sense--is a Big Tourist Draw.  Every building is a café or restaurant, and most of them are pricey without being fancy.  Should you need refreshment beer is available for take out.  I saw many people partaking at tables when I was there.  Who drinks beer at 9:30 am?  And why?

 I walked across town to Amelianborgslot.  Slot is the Danish word for castle.  It's going to come up a lot, so you'd better learn it.  A lot of tour buses and groups also showed up, but they don’t get to go inside I guess.  Amelianborg is the queen’s town residence, and only part is open to the public.  The part that is has some rather intimate rooms belonging to her ancestors. I saw some furniture—little tables and desks I wouldn’t mind having in my place.  The Danes have like most Northern Europeans a concept of cozy hominess.  Their word for it is hygge.  Amelianborgslot is the hygge castle.

Another display featured Queen Margethe’s gowns.  I liked them.  Her majesty has a slim elegant figure and excellent taste.  I especially coveted a midnight blue number with a lace bodice and train.  Her majesty is a lot taller than I am though, so it would not fit.  I’m feeling bummed about this actually.

I walked over to Rosenborgslot (pictured above) through the park and the rain.  It’s Christian IV’s castle and apparently the one the tour groups actually visit.  It’s rather homey with wood-paneled walls painted ceilings marquetry floors, piero dure cabinets, and lovely tapestries.  Only the tapestries are displayed functionally rather than as art.  What I mean by this is that they are hung to keep in warmth and stuff is put over them.

I went down to the treasury to visit the Danish Crown Jewels.  I loved the emeralds.  Do you think the Dronnige (that's queen in Dansk) would let me borrow them?  Ok. Not.

At this point I needed some sustenance.  I went to a snack cart, but had the bad luck to be behind some English-speaking (non American thank goodness!) tourists.  The Danes are So Nice.  This clueless group wanted some transportation information, and the kindly proprietor kept suggesting they go to the actual transportation information booth—only they kept saying “one more thing” while we actual customers lined up behind.

After my snack I went to the art museum.  There’s a good but not fantastic collection.  A few works are attributed to Rembrandt.  I like Gerrit von Honhorst, but my favorites were the Matisses and the Emil Noldes.  You may not know Emil Nolde, and if you google his work you may be dismayed.  At first glance his works look like a child’s daubings with bright primary colors and simple shapes.  But look again.  They are works of great power and sophistication.

Thank you for sharing about the art and all.  But food?  drink?

There was something called called Viking IPA, which I couldn’t resist.  Now one of my friends (and readers) is a connoisseur of IPA, I tried this one for her.  Only.  Meh.  I guess Danes don’t do India Pale Ale.

Farvel

Rainy Day Exploration

Goddag,

Here’s the scoop on the Real Reason that Copenhagen is “Wonderful, Wonderful!”  It’s the public toilets—nice, clean and---free!  This kind of thing is of utmost importance to some of us.

During the day Studiestrade bustles but quietly.  At night it’s a different story.  There’s nightclub across the street.  People come and go in the wee small hours in large noisy groups.  Often they sing.  Sometimes they argue drunkenly.  Then there was the guy last night, who wanted to do some amateur D.Jing with his car radio.  The problem with jet lag is that once I wake up, I’m awake and there’s no getting back to sleep.

So I set out on a rainy morning with my umbrella.  It poured hard and my trousers soon were soaked, and so was my map.  It just fell apart, but the rain was not cold, so I explored the town and felt pretty good, so I kept walking for about three hours.  I walked down by the old port and along some canals.  Even in a downpour Copenhagen is a handsome city with a lot of attractive and distinguished buildings.

In many ways Copenhagen reminds me of Amsterdam, and no wonder.  Besides the constant proximity of water, the Danes built in Dutch styles.  Bikes prove as common as cars. Nevertheless, the cities feel different.  Copenhagen boasts some broad streets for traffic as well as numerous squares and parks giving it a more open feel than Amsterdam.  Copenhagen also feels “royal.”  Palaces and other references to the monarchy abound—interesting because I don’t think the Danes care a whit about rank.  They are proud of their heritage and adore Queen Margarethe.

Finally I settled on visiting the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek or the New Carlsberg Sculpture Museum.  One finds the Carlsberg Name almost as much as the monarchy’s around Denmark, and, yes, it’s the beer company.  The collection is housed in a fantastically beautiful building inside and out.  At its heart sits the lovely “winter garden” and fountain.  For the thirsty or peckish there’s a café.  I found the art extremely well exhibited with commentary in English as well as Dansk.  The collection is huge so I focused on the ancient stuff.  They have an excellent range of Etruscan Art.  But what I found especially intriguing were the portrait busts from Palmyra.  Palmyra was an oasis town (Now called Tadmor) that tried to play off the Romans and Persians against each other.  One can see both influences in the sculpture. To go along with that was much Greek, Roman, and Egyptian statues that even the British Museum might covet.

And the food?

I liked the smorrebrod so much I went back for smorre!

Pil, you are such a wit.  That’s half true anyway.  What did you get this time?

One with slices of hard boiled egg and slices of cucumber and tomato.  That was my “salad.  Then I had one with a slice of fish in batter dressed with lettuce, a slice of tomato, and some kind of tartar sauce, and one with frikadelle, which is usually meatballs made out of minced and fried pork.  It was dressed with pickled beets and more cucumber in the form of sweet pickles.  I thought this was mighty tasty.  Think of the best and leanest meatball you have ever eaten.  It was better than that.  The smorrebrod costs forty-eight krone or about eight dollars for three.  I realize that sounds expensive, but Copenhagen is expensive, and the smorrebrod gives good value for the money.

Farvel

. . .Wonderful Copenhagen!

Goddag!

I conked out around 7 pm last night, got about four hours of good sleep, and then it was over.  I was awake.  I spent most of the night reading Patrick Leigh Fermor’s travel memoirs and wishing I could write about my trips the way he wrote about his—on the other hand I’d rather sleep indoors, and I’d prefer not having my passport stolen or being mistaken for a smuggler.

Even though it was the middle of the night I enjoyed waking up in Copenhagen.  My apartment has plenty of space although the sinks in the bathroom and kitchen are the size of postage stamps.  Washing dishes or my face results in splashing.  Maybe I’ll get used to it.

Strolling around licking windows long before things were open.  I walked by Tivoli and the train station.  And here’s some news you can use.  There’s a free public toilet in the square in front of the handsome town hall, but it’s open only when the town hall is.  The one at the train station costs five krone, which is about eighty cents.  Fortunately I needed neither.

I walked down Stroget the famous pedestrianized, street, which is actually a series of streets and squares—or plads as we Danes say.  Most of the shops are European chains, fast food outlets, or boutiques, but there’s some good window-licking to be had at the amber shops.  There’s a Sephora, too, and I will be visiting there, you can bet.  The biggest department store in Scandinavia anchors one end of Kongens Nytorv or the Kings New Square. I strolled around some canals and around the courtyard of Christianslot, which used to be a royal residence.  Maybe I’ll go inside on a later visit.

My target was the huge National Museum.  Most of Danish History can be viewed here, but I was especially after Bronze and Viking age goodies.  I enjoyed the artifacts from the Greenland settlement.  Not every one would appreciate the array of tools, weapons and even preserved bodies, but I did.  One thing threw me off however.  The museum featured words by modern artists that were meant to blend in with the artifacts. The naturalistically creepy mermaid skeleton was an obvious hoax although I wondered how many folks would fall for it, but others looked just like the real thing and were identifiable (by me anyway) only by the absurd stories attached to them.  One I recall was a sword used by a Bronze Age Queen to behead rabbits as those were the only food her son would eat.

Of course one way to get my attention is with period rooms, but I found the marvelously intricate wood carvings even more compelling.

Then my brain began to buzz in that annoying way that indicates the jet lag has caught up with me.  I tore myself away and went hunting and gathering.

What’s for dinner?

Smorrebrod!!  The word translates literally to buttered bread, but it’s so much more.  It’s the culinary icon of Denmark.  These aren’t dainty tea or American style sandwiches but rather are works of art that follow strict rules as to what kind of bread goes with what.  I went into the shop attracted by the copious display, and the motherly shop lady explained the toppings to me and packed my choices up to go.  For my cultural research I chose the most traditional sorts.  Your mileage may vary.  Now remember we eat it properly on a plate with a knife and fork Danish fashion.  Picking up the smorrebrod with one’s hands is vulgar, tourist-like behavior. The smorrebrod are open face, and you can find pictures on the internet if you want to see what they look like.  Here we go.  The reason that a potato on bread doesn’t make sense to you because you haven’t tried it.  Here is our buttered rye bread dense and tasty on its own topped with potato slices which taste good and especially potatoish.  On top of them sits raw onion, a lettuce leaf, a slice of tomato and a piece of bacon.  Yum!  Like all Northern Europeans, Danes love their herring.  Me, too!  Danish pickled herring is a bit sweet and is accompanied by more raw onion, tomato and what looks like capers.  If I were still in Amsterdam, I’d say leckker!  Then we have liver, beets, caramelized onion, and lettuce.  Now I happen to like liver, so I think this is a great combination.  Sometimes it’s made with liver paste—which the Danes like with cucumber on top, but this is an actual slice of liver.  Mmmm.  The contrast of the liver with the sweet beets is good.  I just got the three sandwiches, and they were plenty filling.

Farvel

Wonderful . . .

 

So Copenhagen is pretty wonderful. It just takes some doing to get here from Los Angeles.  It’s also way out of my linguistic and monetary comfort zone.  Dansk is a Germanic language, but unlike German or Dutch, which are clearly enunciated, Dansk sounds sorta mushy.  Not only that but they've kept their own currency and don’t use the Euro. At this point they might be glad of that—but I’m not.

I went through Frankfurt, and the flight was fine—just long and normally uncomfortable.  My seatmates were pleasant, but they got into a lively and very long conversation. I just wanted to sleep, and I couldn’t really.  I fetched up in Denmark dreadfully dehydrated, confused, and jet lagged enough to turn my gills green.

I had to wait about twenty minutes for my luggage to appear, but I’d already cleared passport control in Frankfurt, so the next task was to find an ATM.  I had a pocket full of Euro, which I could not spend in Denmark—or so I thought.  I found ATMS—out of order.  I walked over to the next terminal and found one that worked.  Naturally there was a line.  It seemed to be the only working ATM at the airport.  Now I had checked the exchange rate before I left and had actually written down the amount of money I needed in krone, but when it got to be my turn to use the machine the jet lag kicked in, and I did not ask for the right amount but much less.

Berating my self for a jet-lagged idiot I joined the line at the metro ticket office, only to discover that yeah, they took Euros and even debit cards.  I took heart and got what’s called a klip-kort, which should serve me just fine for local trips although it’s definitely not as cool as the magic transport cards in London and Amsterdam.  I got my change in krone.  Some of the silver krone coins look kinda like snowflakes because they have a hole in the middle.

The metro from the airport is smooth, quiet, and easy to use.  I found my stop easily, but on emerging I found myself completely turned around and made four false starts before going in the right direction.  Even then I was confused.  I saw a woman completing her purchase in a shop and said to myself, when she comes out, I’m going to ask her for directions.  I was wrestling with my map to show her where I wanted to go, when she spoke to me in Danish.  I must have looked confused because she switched to English and asked me if I needed help.  Yes!  I was actually going in the right direction for a change, and she directed me into an even better direction.  I reached the correct address and was looking at the building wondering what to do when I was accosted by the owner’s mother who had come to meet me.

The place is charming and the location can’t be beat, but first off I learned there’s no internet as was promised.  I’ll keep trying to pirate and if I can post I will.  Otherwise I’ll have to wait until I get home or can find some free wifi.

It had turned hot and humid, and I was already dehydrated, so I went in search of groceries.  It was easy to find a store, and easy to find what I needed.  And the nice young man at the cash register laughed good naturedly when explained I did not speak Danish and answered me in terrific English.  But here’s the thing.  I set off, and then it penetrated my jet-lagged brain that I had not brought my bags.  I went back home and got them.  Now I was tempted to go on and just buy a bag at the store, but I didn’t see any hanging around, and I don’t think any were for sale, so I was smart after all to go back. 

Food, Pil?  Wadja buy?

The stores are treasure troves of Danish delights!  I have some wonderful bread—dense chewy, and covered in seeds.  I’ll have hummus for breakfast, but I also got some of the famous Danish butter and cheese.  Lurpack butter has a global reputation—well deserved I might add.  You can order it on line.  I have never seen it in stores.  There’s also a blue cheese called Castello.  Now you can actually find this at Trader Joe.  It’s rich and very very creamy.  Imagine blue cheese as butter.  Oh yeah!

And to drink?

Well for my first night in Denmark I had Danish beer.  I had some Carlsberg Elephant that I remembered a fellow traveler on a trip to Russia liking.  But that was after I had two glasses of water.  As I said I was dehydrated.

The Happiest Place on Earth?

What's going on, Pil?  I thought you were going to Denmark--not Disneyland.
I am, but Danes regularly top the happiness polls for folks with greatest life satisfaction.
Seriously?  Why?
Well, that's what I'm here to find out, but first let's have some fun facts about Denmark.
Hey wait a minute! That's the Little Mermaid!  You ARE going to Disneyland.
Before it was a Disney film, "The Little Mermaid" was a Hans Christian Andersen tale (and a very sad one, too.  I didn't like it at all) and Den Lille Havfrue is Copenhagen's symbol--just as the Eiffel Tower is for Paris.  Nevertheless, while I'll be nowhere near Euro Disney, I will be near the oldest theme park on Earth.
Staring wistfully out to sea, she looks so sad and lonely.  Are you sure Denmark is jolly?
If it is the weather adds nothing to it.  So far north the climate can be harsh, and fall and winter are marked by long stretches of cold and darkness.  Denmark consists of the Jutland Peninsula and a lot of islands.  Copenhagen where I will be is on Sjealland or Zealand.  Yes, they had one of those in the Netherlands, too, and you can find the "New" version in the Southern Pacific.
Denmark is a small, flat country with a small and homogeneous population.  Long ago all the horrid Danes went a-Viking (i.e. my ancestors who ravaged Northern France), and the nice ones stayed home. There are more bikes than cars, and more pigs than people.  But speaking of pigs, Danes consume on average a staggering 142 pounds of pork each.  They are also famous for their butter and cheese.
I get it.  Saturated fat is the secret to their happiness!
Er--and their comparative short life span compared to other Europeans.  The literacy rate is 100%.  Maybe that accounts for their satisfaction.  Danes love their queen, the crown prince, and his Australian wife.  They love their flag.  They follow the rules, pay high taxes, and enjoy a lot of social services, and great public transport.  The country is a sort of semi-socialist constitutional monarchy.
Surveys show that Danes rank among the highest in trust.  Maybe you remember that Danish woman who got into so much trouble in New York City when she left her baby in a stroller outside a cafe.  Well, Danes do that all the time.  They trust people not to hurt or make off with their kids.  Don't try this at home.
I'm spending three weeks in Copenhagen, and I hope you will join me.  With its incomparable livability, many castles, gardens, museums, etc, Copenhagen is wonderful.  There's even a song that says so.  Folks my age may remember the enchanting movie Hans Christian Andersen starring Danny Kaye.  Here's a link so you can enjoy the song, but possibly you need to see the whole movie. Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen