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.