Day 21. Front lawns.

Front lawns as Americans know them hardly exist in Denmark. The homes themselves instead often act as personal gardens, with English climbing roses, thick ivy, or tidy flower boxes adding flashes of color to an already charming picture. It's easy to stop and smell the roses when they spill onto the sidewalks.

Day 20. Gardens.

Then, they turned southward, and the air became fragrant with the perfume of spices and flowers... Here they both descended to the earth, and stretched themselves on the soft grass, while the flowers bowed to the breath of the wind as if to welcome it. “Are we now in the garden of paradise?” asked the prince. “No, indeed,” replied the East Wind; “but we shall be there very soon."

"The Garden of Paradise," Hans Christian Andersen 

  

Day 19. Gods of the sea.

In 1904, a prominent Danish sea captain named Peter Mærsk-Møller founded the Steamship Company Svendborg with his son, Arnold Peter. The father and son team achieved enough success towing cargo in their first few years to finance the construction of a shipyard in Odense, where their company began fabricating increasingly massive cargo liners. The fledgling Steamship Company Svendborg would, over the decades, evolve into the world's biggest shipping enterprise: A.P. Møller-Mærsk.

The size and scale of the company's ships is mindblowing. Today, each one of Mærsk's trademark sky blue E-class container ships can haul 36,000 automobiles at a time. According to The Guardian, "just 15 of the world's biggest ships," most of which belong to Mærsk, "may now emit as much pollution as all the world's 760 million cars." If you could lay the Empire State Building on its side, it would be over 100 feet shorter than Mærsk's largest freighters. And yet here, in unassuming Copenhagen, sit the people who rule the ships that rule the seas.

Poseidon at the gates of Mærsk's world headquarters in Copenhagen

Day 18. The candlestick store.

Copenhagen prides itself on the accomplishments of homegrown industrial designers and architects. Such pride is well-deserved; the city gave the world Jørn Utzon, after all. 

Of course, hip communities often run the risk of becoming caricatures of themselves. Like Spatula City or the Knot and Doily stores from Portlandia, there are a fair share of establishments in Copenhagen that literally sell one product, presumably on the basis of their superior design. The thing is, these stores aren't selling wristwatches or Ferraris or anything particularly complicated and expensive. For example, I recently passed a store that only sold white t-shirts with a quote: "Be yourself - everybody else is taken." That's it.

My favorite, though, is my neighborhood's designer candlestick store. Copper or silver? Your choice.

Day 17. Rainbows.

Beautiful city, beautiful day.

Day 16. Getting lost.

It happened. The intended ten-mile bike ride became a 35-mile one. I had put far too much faith in my own sense of direction. The result was an erratic zigzag around the outskirts and suburbs of the capital. I never bothered to ask for directions. The sun would be out until nearly 11pm anyway, and what better way to explore Copenhagen than by doing so in an utterly mindless manner?

Along the way, an Ikea appeared, and I was thrilled to experience the giant furniture store in its native Scandinavian environment. As it turns out Danish Ikeas are identical the ones in suburban America, though I don't know what I expected... massive hordes of smiling blondes making their pilgrimage, maybe. Or just Swedish meatballs everywhere, I don't know.

One surprise along the route of my Tour de Copenhagen was stumbling upon Grundtvigs Kirke, a wildly unique and dominating structure. The church, built in the 1920s and '30s is all at once weird, beautiful, alarming and unlike anything I've ever seen.

Day 15. Sankt Hans.

It's an odd feeling sitting in a Copenhagen apartment and noticing the thick smell of campfire. There aren't campgrounds for dozens of miles. Denmark is too wet and the trees too sparse for forest fires. I couldn't figure it out, until I remembered that my landlord had sent an email earlier that day with a postscript attached: 

Have a nice evening- try a stroll along the harbourside. There will be bonfires as we celebrate "Sankt Hans"- Midsummer night.

At Nyhavn, the rich smell of burning wood was overwhelming. Though it was Sunday night, hundreds of people lined the canal, watching the bonfire that city officials had lit on a small floating platform. There was a jazz band playing quietly in the background. Jazz has long been a big draw in Copenhagen.

Sankt Hans, or Midsummer, is a Nordic tradition that dates back to pagan times. My Danish coworkers said that Swedes party the most because it's actually a national holiday there. Estonians, Finns and Norwegians celebrate it quite seriously as well. The Danes tend to be relaxed about Sankt Hans and make it into a quiet community affair. Neighborhoods celebrate by burning a big pile of wood along the waterfront. I'm told the view from just off the beaches is incredible: at dusk, bonfires dot the Zealand coast every quarter-mile all the way to the horizon.

Sometimes, people will tie a fake witch to a stake for old times' sake. Apparently nothing brings the town together like a good ol' fashioned witch burning.

Day 14. Cemeteries.

At first glance, I assumed the thickly forested and beautifully groomed space behind the American Embassy in Copenhagen was just another handsome park. "It's not a park," a Danish coworker remarked, "It's Garnisons Cemetery."

Based on my observations and on the opinions of my coworkers, Danish cemeteries are all quite beautiful. It helps that they're maintained by government employees. Like the UK, Denmark is a constitutional monarchy where the king/queen serves as head of both church and state. There's little to no separation between the two institutions.

In fact, the upkeep of cemeteries and anything else related to the Lutheran Church of Denmark is largely supported not by collection plate donations but by taxes: kirkeskat (kirke = church, skat = tax). The exact percentage of tax varies by municipality, but Danes might pay upwards of 1.5% of their income toward kirkeskat. Citizens have an option not to pay, though doing so voids their right to a free wedding ceremony and funeral at a Danish church and a plot in one of these incredible cemeteries.

I walked through Holmens Kirkegård (kirkegård = cemetery) today and - perhaps this is in bad taste - took some pictures. I was impressed by the bright flowers everywhere, the tidy rows of shrubs separating the plots and the little benches for visitors. A flock of ladies in black "Holmens Kirke" vests tended the gardens as I explored.

"Beloved husband, father and grandfather"

The cemetery's chapel, in the style of Norse stave churches

Day 13. Odense.

I ventured west for the first time, making it to the island of Fyn. I took the train to Denmark's third-largest city, Odense. First of all, any town named after Odin - essentially the Zeus of Norse mythology and the father of Thor - is automatically a winner in my book.

In reality, Odense should be called 'Andersenville,' given its  obsession with native son, Hans Christian Andersen. The author of The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling and so many other famous works was born in Odense. Andersen grew up in grinding poverty, the son of a struggling, single alcoholic mother. By the end of his rich life, Andersen had written 212 fairy tales, 51 theater works, several books and thousands of notes. Born a pauper, he died while earning a "national treasure" stipend provided by the Danish crown, and he received a state funeral in Copenhagen.

I visited the Hans Christian Andersen Museum in Odense, which includes the house in which he was born and a series of rooms detailing his life, complete with daguerreotype portraits and hundreds of his drawings, notes and paper cuttings. My favorite part may have been the quotes scattered around: "To travel is to live," "My life will be the best illustration of all my work," and so on.

The birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen, now a museum

Along the same street. H.C.A.'s house is the small yellow one with the visible chimney

Day 12. Rosenborg Slot.

Danish society seems perfectly engineered for a spontaneous picnic. Danes take entire months off in the summer, and when they do work it's generally a half day. They bike everywhere. There's no open alcohol container ban. The summer air is relaxed, with temperatures hovering around 70 degrees. 

The key ingredient, though, is the Danish aptitude for constructing incredible parks. Sprinkled throughout busy Copenhagen are dozens of them, completely fenced off from streets, traffic and commercialism. Ørstedsparken, for example, feels a world apart from the rest of the city. When visiting, one only catches a glance of the tidy rainbow of row houses peeking through the thick treetops.

The Danes outdid themselves with Rosenborg Slot (slot = castle) and its surrounding grounds. Only yesterday after work did I finally make it to this beautiful park, with a 17th century castle tucked behind acres of manicured lawns and trees. Families, friends, couples and tourists scattered across the grounds were enjoying the sun, the breeze, their wine and their smørrebrød. I popped into a minimart, grabbed an iced tea and spent a few hours reading a book and wishing the sunset would be delayed even longer than it already is.

(As with all the other photos on this site, click the picture to view a larger version)

Day 11. A Danish workplace.

I could try spinning out some longwinded explanation of Danish attitudes toward their jobs and the appearance of their workplaces, but I won't. Really, I just want to share a picture of a very cool Danish office that I had the chance to visit during an offsite conference.

Day 11. Dannebrog.

The Nordic countries share a common template for their flags. The pattern even has its own Wikipedia entry. Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark and the Åland, Faroe, Orkney and Shetland Islands all use some variation of the Nordic Cross. Denmark set the standard with its red and white Dannebrog (apparently in the 1200s), and the neighboring regions followed suit in subsequent centuries.

While the US tends to overdo the whole let's-put-flags-everywhere thing, Denmark is only a tiny bit less excited about theirs. I see the Dannebrog quite often, though it could be because I'm staying in the capital; since I haven't strayed from Copenhagen yet, I have yet to see how much the rural areas fly the flag.

Day 10. Smørrebrød.

It took two weeks before I could pronounce smørrebrød in a remotely intelligible manner. Smørrebrød is Denmark's lunch staple, an open-faced sandwich where the only rule is that one uses a very heavy, seedy rye bread as the base. We individually make and eat our own at the office nearly every day, and they end up being tasty little creations. When purchased at a restaurant - Copenhagen is teeming with smørrebrod-only cafés - the sandwiches can be beautiful culinary works.

Common toppings include some combination of eggs, shrimp, tomatoes, salad greens, remoulade, mayonnaise, smoked salmon, pâté, fried whitefish, cheese, chives, bacon... etc... etc... etc...

My favorite topping is definitely salmon. And the best part is that a plate of smørrebrød almost always comes with some assembly required.

Day 9. Slotsholmen.

This will not be the last post on Slotsholmen. Just a tiny island (a few city blocks in total), Slotsholmen has an outsized aura of importance in the Danish Kingdom. It houses, among other things, Danish Parliament, the National Archives, the Royal Library, the Supreme Court, the country's stock exchange, the Prime Minister's office, the Queen's State Rooms, the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Transportation and multiple museums. Valuable real estate, no doubt.

Much as I wish I could claim license for this picture, it was my friend who snapped it while we were walking across the canal from Slotsholmen at dusk.

L to R: Miljøministeriet (Environment Ministry), Børsen (Stock Exchange), Christiansborg Palace (Parliament)

Day 8. Malmö.

Malmö, Sweden's third-largest city, sits just across Øresund (literally, "the Sound") from Copenhagen. In 2000, Scandinavia celebrated the opening of an expansive bridge and tunnel system that joins the two formerly unconnected metropolises. In a larger sense, the Øresund Bridge's opening connected Sweden and Norway to the rest of the European continent by car for the first time.

My friend and I enjoyed a quick day trip to Malmö on Saturday. The train ride took 35 minutes each way from Copenhagen's central station and only cost us each about US$25 roundtrip. Malmö made for a great introduction to Sweden. Among the highlights was getting an up-close look at the city's most famous landmark (and Scandinavia's tallest building), the Turning Torso.

Day 7. Ørstedsparken.

A book, a bench, some shade, lots of quiet. I've found my favorite reading spot in Copenhagen: Ørstedsparken.

Days 5 and 6. Amalienborg and Chinese tourists.

The Windsors have Buckingham Palace. The Danish royal family has Amalienborg. Standing in the middle of the four wings of Amalienborg is overwhelming, and such a palace fit the former Danish Empire well (which then held Iceland, Norway, Greenland, the Færoes, the now-US-owned Virgin Islands, Shetland, Orkney and various outposts in Africa and Asia). Today, Amalienborg feels like a vestige of Denmark's colonial past, but like the UK it also features elaborately dressed palace guards. Recognize the hats?

Denmark, like all of Europe, has become a huge tourist destination for the growing Chinese middle class. Buses arrive at big sites like Amalienborg and deposit dozens and dozens of excited tourists. I was standing in the palace square, completely alone, and minutes later it was packed full of excited amateur photographers. Lots of cash for the Danes. Lots of memories for the Chinese. Everybody's happy.

Day 4. Courtyards.

The view from my apartment, which was built in 1911, looks much like the view from any Copenhagen flat. Although they're built in separate sections, buildings usually come together in a square design. The outer façades crowd the sidewalks and streets and the inner ones face a quiet courtyard.

Inside are a few coveted private parking spots for cars and a whole number of spots for bikes, Copenhagen's transport mode of choice. It's also a common space for the many families inhabiting the surrounding residences, and I often see a young family watching on as their toddler squeals in the grass. The yellow building with red trim is my favorite; it's opposite façade is a deep red brick.

Day 3. Kastellet.

Kastellet is a star fortress - among the best preserved in Europe - and one of the few still actually operated by a state's armed forces (the Danish Defense Minister lives on the grounds). Seeing it from above, one can appreciate how orderly and well-built it is, not unlike the city surrounding it. Since 1662, the Danish military has operated Kastellet, though today's Danes tend to use it as their favorite reading or jogging spot instead of a formidable bastioned rampart.

Below is a glimpse of the tidy old barracks (Stokkene) that sit within the star-shaped walls.

Day 2. Bikes.

Bikes rule the streets of Copenhagen. There are bicycle traffic jams, bicycle traffic lights, and bike "streets" separated from the regular ones. Bikes themselves are built to be commuting machines rather than mountain or racing ones: sturdy frames to handle cobblestones and fenders and chain guards to keep the snazzy Danes clean while they ride.

Since the city is compact, and it's often more convenient to travel by bike, I bought one today. The bike store agreed to buy it back in August, helping me recoup much of the value. It's a used one - and pretty much a women's model - but it's still handsome and works like a charm. An "Everton Athletic" (sounds like a British soccer club).

Day 1, Part 2

Here's the first "real" picture. Nyhavn canal is one of the most famous spots in all of Denmark. You can read all about the history and details of it here.

It was packed with tourists today, and everyone was enjoying the perfect weather while sitting at the cafés that line the canal. I live about 5 minutes walking distance from Nyhavn.

Nyhavn (pronounced "Nu-hawn")

Day One!

Phew. Long flight, hardly any sleep. I've seen little more than the inside of the airport, the inside of a Metro train and the inside of my little apartment. I'll post a good picture in a few hours. For now, here's proof I'm actually in Denmark!