DK - Århus

June 21                 Tuesday                               Denmark                             Århus                                   

I had to wake slightly early to make sure I showered & recombobulated myself after having settled in for a couple days.  My original plan upon arrival in Copenhagen had been to stick around another day and then catch a train back into Sweden and up to Göteborg, but I felt I’d seen enough of Copenhagen & decided it’d be a good chance to see a bit more of Denmark.  So I booked a train west and then north to Århus, Denmark’s second city.

Upon arrival I found myself in a bit of a dirty stretch by the train station, but a block later I was in the pedestrianized area and found it to be a rather pretty little city.  I actually enjoyed traveling around the streets, whereas in Copenhagen they felt just like a monotonous chore.   Århus ultimately felt sort of like DC: sure it’s technically a city, but it really preserves a small town feel within it.  It was far more walkable than Copenhagen, in part owing to its smaller size but also a greater balance toward pedestrians; whereas I’d previously noted that Copenhagen was definitely more bike-friendly at the cost of being ped-friendly.

Arriving at my hostel at 15:00, I knew I was strapped for time to see the city… so I immediately dropped off my bags in a storage room (checkout didn’t open for another hour) then went outside to see as much as I could.  With the two main churches first to close: those were my first target.  The Domkirke had some restored frescoes (whitewashed back in the day on account of seeming “too Catholic”) and a tower right on the central square.

The church’s staffmember was kind enough to chase down the key for me, letting me scale the tower in my lonesome with 30 minutes until closing.  It was fun having the whole tower to myself, arriving at the top & climbing about the bells’ structure to get at the windows; but fencing on the windows had too tight of a grid for me to get many good photos from.  It was a bit amusing as a live band in the plaza outside broke into Rage Against the Machine’s “Bulls On Parade”, adding a marked contrast to my present location within a church tower.  Even the staffmember laughed the moment I mentioned it; she was thinking the exact same thing.

The nearby Vor Frue Kirke had a crypt was which was partially lit with some candles, so that was nice; but otherwise I was in and out in 5 minutes and still managed to feel like I saw everything there was to see.  A large portion of it was under maintenance work & closed and it was otherwise pretty unadorned… of interest more to those with a huge interested in churches; not so much to those more interested in the neat & fancy.

Next was the ARoS Aarhus Kunstmuseum, the city’s major art museum.  I’d initially thought I only had an hour to explore it before it closed at 17:00, but when the clock struck 5pm just as I was finishing up my last stop: I’d taken note that no one else seemed to be making their way for the exit.  Turns out the museum was staying open late on account of it being summer… the first place in all of Scandinavia with a significant change in hours!  YES!!!  So I returned to the exhibits and took a bit more time to appreciate (or at least examine) all of their exhibits.

There was a section on Denmark’s golden age of art, which I’d noted on a previous day that I’m rather fond of.  Danes really did a great job creating photo-quality works, capturing landscapes and body expressions absolutely perfectly.  However, the lion’s share of the museum deals with modern art…  which is a form that I just don’t get.  It’s such a contrast to see it go from these ornate and lovely paintings to a sculpture of two figures that have been injured and disfigured in dozens of different ways, leaving limbs and debris behind them.  Or a canvas that’s orange.  Just orange.  Or a photo some girl took of her behind, with pants pull down but panties still on & the wire of the camera’s remote running back to the camera.  Why?  Is this supposed to be a statement about pornography?  Is it supposed to be a statement about narcissism?  Am I just supposed to admire her ass, which was only OK?  If I took a photo of my own rear end: could I get it into a museum?  Yeah, I didn’t get that room… although I did like the photo of the little girl holding a chainsaw; that amused me.

The first floor has a large life-like sculpture of a boy… it was pretty neat, I suppose, but I didn’t really get how it was the major draw of the museum up until the completion of their most recent bit… which actually ended up being my first stop but I’ll get into that last.  Below the Boy, in the basement, was a series of exhibits themed around Dante’s Inferno.  Well, loosely themed… I was really hoping for a greater tie-in, as I’m a huge fan of the Divine Comedy.  Each room had some sort of visual twist:

·         A large living head trapped underwater, formed by a projection on a huge egg-shaped object in a water tank.  It felt like a character in Myst.

·         A room of mirrors creating infinity all around

·         A film projection onto a sheet draping over E.T.   That is, a sculpture of E.T., replete with Reeses Pieces at his feet, and draped over him was a white sheet… that was the canvas that some uninteresting film was being projected upon.

·         Another projection room was decorated as if someone’s living room.  A film projection portrayed a person’s 24-hr day in 8 minutes, with the lighting in the room changing accordingly from twilight to dawn to midday to sunset to night.  From the video, I can only assume the person – clearly a woman – must’ve had a rather bad day… her morning consisted of her crawling naked along her lawn.

·         There was a large rounded monolithic object in a room which was pulsing bursts of light, as if souls were trapped within.  I didn’t think too much of it until I read that it was tied in with the University of Tokyo’s astronomy folk… every time a star was recorded as going nova it triggered a pulse of light; its location (I think) upon the monolith being derived from the stars’ location within the universe.  So the exhibit itself was dull but I liked the tie in with the real physical universe.

·         A room had a glowing red wall with a green line… I didn’t get that one.

·         The first room you pass by had several projections, which I eventually realized were all slow-motion videos of someone jumping into the water, albeit played backward.  I liked how it was set up, though: a very large open dark room.  It was quite relaxing.

·         And two more rooms I can’t recall…

Another floor had an exhibit on colors of light.  This one was actually kind of entertaining... one room included a fine mist being sprayed in front of a spotlight, with the droplets refracting a rainbow if you stood at the correct angle.  It was also fun watching people flail about in the otherwise pitch black room, with the spotlight making it difficult for people’s eyes to adjust to the room’s layout.  It was just a flat open room, but it felt like there would be a drop-off or objects or something; some barrier to prohibit you from getting into the mist.  But the whole point was to let you roam free & see it from all angles, even within it if you so desired.

Another room, part of that same light exhibit, consisted of a very dense fog illuminated with color, forming a color wheel room.  Different segments had red, blue, yellow, and green lights & you could walk through the color combinations… with absolutely nothing in front of you to help gauge distance or place; letting you become fully enveloped by the color.  Only a  few support poles & silhouettes of other people let you focus on anything; unless you opted to look up at the light racks or down at your feet… both pretty much at the limits of visibility.

Running with that color theme was the latest permanent installation: Your Rainbow Panorama.  Complementing a roof deck with good views over the city, another level up was this large circular walkway with windows of a massive color wheel.  The entry was in deep blue & you could walk around through the colors and back to deep blue.  I didn’t get why people kept taking pictures through the glass… all did was color the city; you could get a clear & more interesting view from the roof deck.  The color didn’t do anything interesting to the city worth of a photo.  To me, the real interest was in looking along the corridor (a few tourists did grasp this), taking in the color gradient and appreciating how the reflections in the glass created these neat visual effects.  My camera was always pointed along the hallway; if I want a colored photo of the city I’ll just add a filter.  I also liked capturing photos from outside the walkway, snapping images of peoples’ silhouettes within the colored glass.

For chow I stopped by Karl’s Sandwich Bar, toward the north end of the downtown area.  For once Lonely Planet succeeded: not only did I find it easily, but holy cow did they offer a good burger (specifically what my guide recommended).  It was huge and quite tasty, served alongside a box full of fries.  Like Five Guys, they actually provided more fries than I could even eat.  All for 60 DKK, which at about $12 is actually a pretty good deal for a meal in Denmark.

I swung through the downtown again and past the Domkirke, beside which were some festivities for some sort of youth soccer something or other.  I didn’t quite get what exactly it was for, but when I heard swing I knew it was something I had to swing by… er… yeah, pun not initially intended.  Some more jazzy/swingy tunes were played, including Duke Ellington and Van Morrison.  But eventually I had to get moving to plan the next day, which would involve a bit of complexity as I traveled by rail and sea.

As I sat and listened to the music, however, I dwelt a bit more upon the people of these two countries: Sweden and Denmark.  Between the two: Stockholm definitely has more hot women.  But Denmark succeeds at pretty, beautiful, ad cute.  Stockholm has bottle blondes who look like they could never hold a conversation; the Danes look very real, as if you could really engage with their minds.  So I’d say Denmark might actually be ahead in that regard, despite not necessarily claiming the greater world renown which Sweden enjoys.  And as for the guys?  To put it simply: in Denmark they’re thuggish; in Sweden they’re a bunch of fratboys; and in both there’s a good-sized subculture of both skaters and punks… both of which I’m rather OK with; but the thugs and fratboys just annoyed me as much as they do back home.

One of my roommates was already in the room of the Århus City Sleep-In when I walked in: a London guy whom I’d peg as being in his 40’s; a freelance journalist there to cover whatever that youth soccer thing was.  I later met another dude originally from northeastern China but now working at a hotel in England.  There was another Asian guy but he didn’t talk at all; either he simply wasn’t talkative or he didn’t even understand what “Hi” meant.  I’m guessing a mix… not talkative but probably because of a language barrier; but I’d be hard-pressed to believe he didn’t recognize a greetings when he heard one.  Just before midnight we picked up another roommate, a guy who appeared to be of Middle-Eastern descent (slightly tanned skin but definitely Mediterranean features) and was of about 50-60 yrs or so… English definitely wasn’t his strong point, leading me to guess he’s likely from one of the former French colonies.  Algerian, perhaps?  All in all we ended up with 5 out of 6 beds occupied; the bed above me remaining open.

DK - Copenhagen

June 20                 Monday                               Denmark                             Copenhagen                     

Another strange dream.  I was at my Dad’s place on the Jersey shore and he had two places… although the street grid was a bit different in that the town’s sole diagonal street – Broadway (not the same one as in NYC) – extended down to about 11^th or 12^th Street.  So we had houses in our current place & also on the east side of 10^th St.  Except our current house was a big 4 story boat… that seemed to simultaneously be at its current land-based location as well as on the water.  And it was a restaurant on the 2^nd and 3^rd floors… portions of the 3^rd and 4^th floors were the living areas and the 1^st floor was an office that also inexplicably had a Dominos facing the driveway (that was the land-based part).

My dream was all about me trying to figure out who left the “OPEN” sign turned on, causing all the customers to start showing up and dining… I was also trying to figure out who was serving them, as it seemed a full legion of employees had also turned up.  All because the open sign was on.  I seemed to be under the impression it wasn’t supposed to be open, but now that I think about it: perhaps it was and I’d misheard whatever it was I was supposed to do while I was staying there.  Whatever it was: I’m sure taking that massive house/boat out for a joyride probably wasn’t one of them… which I did and did poorly, but I somewhat relished in the glee of causing havoc within the restaurant below the pilot’s seat.

I brought back the boat then began getting myself wrapped up in local small-town gossip… apparently I was with my cousins Chris and Manima (the doesn’t-exist-in-real-life little sister – about 8 yrs old – of my other cousin Rachel, who was around but not there) and Manima had unfurled a property map of the town… going house by house talking about each one, but at some point Rachel showed up and it started ranting about high school boys (despite now being a college grad; it doesn’t help that I’ve barely talked to Rachel in a decade… hence she’s many years younger in my head than she actually is).

Then there was this girl my age who looked a lot like a young Cate Blanchett; she was daughter of the town’s Mormon preacher (I don’t think there is such a thing in the real-life version of our town).  I was chatting with her dad – who looked like the mayor from Spin City – and was getting on good terms with him… but unfortunately there isn’t much more to add to that one because the cleaning crews ARE ONCE AGAIN TREMENDOUSLY LOUD AT 10 AM.  So I woke up.

It was another day for exploration.  My route took me again past the east side of Tivoli, where I stood in wonderment at the construction of a new parking garage for the park; or at least I assumed it was for the park; it’s possibly it may be for the town hall or the downtown in general.  If it is for Tivoli, however, then it’d actually be a strike against the Danes’ amazing implementation of transit-oriented development considering that the amusement park has an entrance directly across the street from the central train station.

While on the subject of transportation: Denmark is yet another example of being bike-friendly but not particularly pedestrian-friendly.  While it’s easy walking in the immediate downtown & on the major shopping streets, in most cases there really isn’t any more sidewalk for pedestrians than you’d see in America.  Actually, in measuring pavement dedicated to pedestrians, there’s probably less than most American cities would provide… and even then: large portions of that are occupied by parked bikes.  I found myself walking in the bike lanes quite often to get around bikes & other people.  Signals also aren’t timed to be too pedestrian friendly… while I was fine as an able-bodied person, I saw many people run out of time to cross… the lack of the “flashing don’t walk” &/or countdowns at most crossings left many people unable to cross in time.  And the Danes stringently adhere to the red man: they do not cross unless it’s green.  I did; I jaywalked all the time.  My work as a traffic engineer has made me the worst pedestrian.  But one word of praise: the Swedes and Danes make adamant effort to maintain ped/bike access through or alongside the construction site; I don’t recall seeing a single closed pathway yet.

Now if you’re on a bike (or even rollerblades have been quite popular in these Nordic countries), then you’re in luck… you have some splendid infrastructure and plenty of companionship, with bikes seeming to be as plentiful as cars (if not moreso).  One caveat is parking: good luck finding an open bike rack space.  Fortunately there are plenty of walls to tie up to or just rest it against… while I understand that’s technically illegal: there’s zero enforcement.  At worst: a bike advocacy group just recently started moving illegally  parked bikes to the racks, where they’d inflate tires & do some other nice things.  Seems like more encouragement to park illegally, in my opinion, but I appreciate the intent.  But the problem is simply that there aren’t enough bike racks, despite there being a large bike rack at nearly every single intersection in the entire city.

Also- most bikes weren’t even locked… or at most they were locked in a manner that it seemed it was just to help keep them upright.  I thought back to America, where bike locking is both an art and science, often involving multiple locks to accommodate both wheels and the frame, and even then riders tend to take a wheel & a seat with them.

I made my way to the Vor Frue Kirke.  The interior isn’t anything too grand, but I definitely appreciated the sculptures lining its sides… it felt as much a museum as a church.  The sculptures, by Bertel Thorvaldsen, were quite exquisite in their depictions of the disciples; and an English handout helped to describe the symbolism within each statue.  At the front was the big man himself… well, the little man working for the big man: the statue of Jesus with open arms; an inspiration for the image of a loving Jesus copied by numerous other renditions around the world.  ...And then those copies went on to inspire Buddy Christ.  Evolution.

Just beyond the church was the Rundetårn (Round Tower), an aptly named classical observatory which is still in use today by amateur astronomers, making it the oldest continuously-used observatory in the world.  But mostly its height & up/down journey are the draw by day… it’s very very round; hence the name.  While most towers have spiral staircases, this tower is unique in that it’s a continuous ramp.  I opted for the inner track, hugging tight to the core and taking on the steeper ascent, flying by all those folk hurled outward by the centripetal force of their travel.  Well, OK maybe not quite to that extent… but most people didn’t seem as keen on the steeper climb as I was.

At the top a cloud had moved in and begun to drizzle, but the slight breeze was all it took to create a dry spot on one side of the tower.  While the tourists quickly disappeared into their descent, I stayed outside and parked myself on a bench: sheltered from the drizzle and able to appreciate the tranquility of a light rain from the peace of being high above the rest of the city.  It took just a few minutes for the rain to pass by before the sun was back out, illuminating the view of the urban landscape & low clouds with a lovely light.

Continuing northward I next reached Kongens Have, yet another palace set beside what is still a functioning military installation.  The surrounding gardens were pretty, but mostly grass & trees – not too many flowers; or at least certainly not on the scale of many other European cities.  The palace, itself, however, was a particularly pleasant experience.  It seemed so tiny from the outside but really opened up within.  The darker décor of the interior made it feel a bit more like a home to me and less that of a state building as yesterday’s palace tour had been.  It was inundated with artwork: many rooms absolutely covered with a variety of different art pieces, from paintings to engravings to tapestries to sculptures to exquisite wares to ornate clocks.  Even the loos were nice; the kind of place I wouldn’t mind dropping my pants for if I were king.  Heck, even if I weren’t king.  I was amused by the Mirror Room, which felt like something straight out of the 1980’s except for the obvious age of the mirrors & décor which was a bit more ornate than what you’d see in a typical 80’s home.

Beneath the palace was a legitimate treasury – indeed, the Danish treasury.  While I’ve still seen more grand elsewhere, this was a respectable trove that certainly beat Sweden’s presentation.  Among the first exhibits were a slew of small gold figurines which immediately prompted Aladdin’s “Prince Ali” to get stuck in my head.  There was a room of alabaster and amber & then on into the vault: home of the crown jewels.  I overheard a guide mention that the Danish royalty periodically pops in to grab some items for special occasions.

The next destination were the botanical gardens… the outdoors part was OK, but I’d missed the peak bloom of the roses and seemed to be a bit early for the peak bloom of other plants.  The indoors areas were all closed for renovations, so that was a bummer.  The grounds really look nice; had the greenhouses been open & the flowers been in full bloom: I’d say it could really be a lovely place.  I did spot some edelweiss.  I couldn't help but smile at thinking back to my time in Switzerland, where throngs of tourists crowded around each edelweiss flower and mobbed about for photos.  Here, however, I was the sole person anywhere around.

I decided to try out the city’s Metro system for a hop over the Christianshavn.  Having finished yesterday’s tower climb too late in the day to see the church, I’d hoped to make it over there in time to see the interior.  Alas, I didn’t make it… but really it was just an excuse to try out the Metro.  It’s driverless: that is, the trains are automated.  Trains were coming every couple of minutes… pretty much as soon one left; another was just about to arrive.  This contrasted with the S-Bahn headways of about 15-30 minutes, and also with Sweden’s peak period 2-minute headways and off-peak 12-minute headways (if I recall correctly).

Having missed the church, I hopped on Metro again for a one-stop ride into the center.  It was time for some more falafel at RizRaz.  This wasn’t really a dinner; more of a late lunch… even though dinner really didn’t seem that far off considering that I pretty much sat on my butt the rest of the evening.  Well actually I just took a really slow pace through the shopping streets again, this time meandering into a Lego store to marvel at some of their constructs.  I was also impressed by a video screen which would read whatever box you were holding on front of the scanner & then project a 3D image of its completed contents right there on top of the box you were holding… you could spin & rotate it, and at the same time the 3D imagery was animated: little guys would run out of a terminal, board a plane, and it’d take off!  Here I am, having grown up in the world of 8 bits… and now I understand how my parents and grandparents felt having grown up in a world of even fewer bits than that, watching as I moved mish-mash of colors meant to represent an Italian plumber as he crushed all his goombas.  Why an Italian would want to hurt his goombah, I do not know.

I finally met my friend for dinner… a dinner which was surely an interesting affair.  So her job, to put it bluntly, is prostitution.  More formally she has worked as an escort, which has enabled her to charge higher rates.  We met by sheer happenstance when I was studying in Budapest and just bumbling about the city as a tourist.  We got to talking and have been friends ever since.  To this day I’m the only person she’s ever told of her line of work at the first meeting, so I can't help but feel a little proud of that.  She actually doesn't really see many clients anymore: instead she now runs an escort business.  Most of the clients prefer women in their young 20's, so as she nears 30 it was a better career move for her to move into management.

Through her I’ve actually become friends with a couple other girls who work or have worked all around the world; some still in the business and some now out of it.  It became a fascinating subject to me, as I’m always interested in anything that happens out of sight of society… it’s why I work in infrastructure, professionally, and even when I'm relaxing by playing video games: I'm playing infrastructure-related games or if I'm doing a first-person shooter or RPG I'm almost always a support class.


Now for those curious: no, like most good friendships one doesn't mix business & friendship together… so it’s been a strictly friendly relationship; but one which has really developed my interest in the legal aspects & women’s rights issues relating to her industry.

Ultimately: I support prostitution as long as it is properly regulated, empowering the women to be their own business rather than forcing them into it.  At the very least, I certainly support decriminalizing it as an offense that the woman commits (as many countries have done); but personally I don’t see why it can’t be permitted to some extent as is the case in Denmark, Netherlands, New Zealand, and a number of other European countries.  Now, New Zealand takes it a bit far in that they legalize street walkers… I can see how that’d quickly sour public support for prostitution in that it’s more difficult to establish the bureaucracy to properly regulate it when you may not have a street address to work with; but I’m certainly intrigued by how central Europe has approached the issue in that they permit regulated brothels.

Now there are really two main issues to prostitution: women’s rights/safety and public health.  To address the former: from what I understand, the regulated businesses of central Europe empower the women.  Most are not forced into it; by and large it’s a choice as a means to an end.  That’s the important part: enabling women to make the choice.  When they don’t have a choice; I absolutely agree that it’s a form of sexual abuse tantamount to rape.  The same correlation can be made to any typical sexual encounter: if those involved don’t consent it’s rape; if they consent to it then it’s A-OK.  So as far as I see it: if we prohibit consensual prostitution where the woman is there of her own free will… we might as well take the next small step and prohibit consensual sex of all forms while we’re at it.

To oppose prostitution solely on the grounds of it seeming immoral is something best left to a theocratic society… if we were a theocracy then fine; but we’re not.  Even if we were a theocracy and fearing fire & brimstone wrath: what do you care, or ye without sin?  No one is forcing you into it; you still have full right to be as pious as you can be – let God be the judge of us all; not you.  Besides, the Bible is rife with prostitution… and there’s actually quite a bit of good to be said of it.

So casting aside the moral argument, there’s certainly a valid public health element.  Clearly, sex workers are at a higher risk of STDs and such, which plays in with the regulation aspect.  I’m unfamiliar with each and every country, but my understanding is that many of the countries permitting regulated prostitution also require that the women submit to regular health screenings -- in some cases STD testing each week.  Should they fail: they must be successfully treated in order to be permitted to return to work.  Now that’s not the way in every country… and even when it is that way there is still a risk; but the risks are mitigated to a great extent.  My friend actually referenced a report published by Danish authorities which found that AIDS infection among Danish prostitutes was less than that of the general population.

In addition to empowering women, there’s certainly a fair amount of money to be made off taxing the industry.  You know the old saying “sex sells”?  Yeah, well tax it & let us get a slice of that pie (pun not initially intended).  All this talk about legalizing drugs is well & good, but a case could be made that someone who gets high before work or before driving could be a risk to productivity & safety…  but someone who gets laid before work or before going driving?  I don’t know, but I’d say your typical man might actually be more productive and attentive.

So yeah… that’s that.  Those are my opinions for now, at least, but it’s a subject I’m fascinated by & my opinions are always open to change should I learn of something that does or does not work.  Hence why I was somewhat looking forward to this dinner, not just in that I hadn’t seen my friend in person for six years; but also because I had a chance to meet two more girls in the business.  I had to inquire how they got into their line of work… hey, it’s a question I often ask anyone regardless of what they do.  Also it was admittedly entertaining to think of how I'm going to write a blog post -- which I know my family reads -- about how I ate dinner with three prostitutes.

So my friend first got into it when she was 20 and ran out of money to pay for school.  She was a knock-out then and could make more money in four hours than she could working a full week in any other job.  Now to be fair, she’s still a knock-out now… but a client hearing an age of 26 is oftentimes immediately repulsed even before setting eyes upon her, so as I said: she’s a bit more in the business management side of things now and also has a more “proper” business job during normal hours; but she still works as a high-class escort… one client hiring her for a single night pays as much as I earn in a two-week paycheck.

Another girl was a cute 21-yr old brunette who was also a student.  I laughed when she said that and responded that yeah, that's the usual story… I phrased it more as a test to see how she reacted, and from her response I feel pretty confident she’s following the same path as my friend; legitimately a student and attracted by the economics of easy money doing something she enjoys.  She was a slight touch heavy for a European girl but would still be thin by American standards, and you’d never guess at her job from the look of her: she was about as innocent-looking a person as you’d ever lay eyes on; even almost like a geeky literati sort of girl.  I definitely got the feeling she’d stop working in the industry as soon as she finished college; or at least she’s one I’d definitely hope to get more out of her degree than some others have… this world just didn’t seem like it was for her; she seemed too nice.

The other wasn’t the strongest at English, but being 22 and looking like a clone of a young Uma Thurman is one sure-fire way to succeed in the business.   She was the second girl I’ve ever talked to who entered the business through more nefarious means: her ex-husband had forced her into it.  Despite her assertions of being Danish, from her accent I highly doubt she actually was…  I didn’t get a clear story nor did I prod for one, but I’d guess that her “husband” was a trafficker & she hails from the former Soviet Bloc; the accent was absolutely Eastern European of some sort, though I could not quite place where.

She assured me that she works by her own accord now, but I honestly didn’t get the warm fuzzy feeling that that was entirely true… she definitely didn’t seem to have the same interest and openness in discussing it as others, but it’s possibly the language barrier or some shyness arising from psychological issues just made her simply not wish to discuss it… my friend later assured me that their business strives to ensure every single woman is well-treated and there by choice.  So I hope that’s true, but while I support prostitution in general: there’s no denying that there can be a darker side to it… and even arguably more “progressive” approaches still aren’t without their failures.

Afterward I once again took a slow stroll through town as I made my way back to my room, albeit this time missing Tivoli’s sound & light show… though I admittedly didn’t make an effort given that I expected it’d once again be the exact same thing.

DK - Copenhagen

June 19                 Sunday                                 Denmark                             Copenhagen                     

SLAM SLAM SLAM

Oh how I wish the cleaning staff could be quieter out there.

From 10 until 11 in the morning, despite my best attempts it was a struggle to get that extra hour of sleep.  Granted, I should have probably just gotten up and gone out to explore and appreciate the city… but so far none of these Scandinavian cities really had that “wow” factor that forced me to get out of bed.  Like I said before: you can’t just wander and appreciate the streets like you can in the cities of the more southern reaches of Europe; it’s really just museum hopping more than anything.  That’s OK, but only if there are good museums… and Stockholm had somewhat jaded me on that experience.  Admittedly, there were a lot of places in Stockholm that I didn’t have time to visit; but all-in-all it really wasn’t a city that floored me with glee.

My first destination was the royal palace.  Well, there are like a dozen of those in Copenhagen alone, so I guess I’ll best describe it as the royal palace – the central castle of the city, Christiansborg Slot.  Its exterior was nothing exciting… just some generally unadorned stone facades and a rather drab tower, and like many European palaces: its internal grounds functioned as a parking lot.  So I went inside really not expecting too much.  So I was more than pleased when the interior proved to exceed my expectations.

The interior wasn’t necessarily the most beautiful, the more prestigious, the more luxurious, or the most absolutist.  But it had some pretty paintings and tapestries… with the former: I’m rather fond of the Danish style of painting portraits.  By and large I tend to cruise right past most portraits, but Danish artists seem to make them a bit more lifelike and less like they could fill in as a zombie in next year’s Halloween flicks.

I’d initially walked right past the tapestries of the main hall without hesitation, but as I returned: one of them caught my eye.  They all told the history of Denmark in rather colorful detail (I mean that literally: they were almost cartoonish; but in an aesthetic sort of way), but it was the one largely covering the 20^th century which I found really interesting… it was ringed by various historical figureheads and the main portion of the tapestry largely covered WWII, the Cold War, and miscellaneous everything else… much of which still indirectly related to WWII or the Cold War.  As I stared at a snippet having to do with World War I – you know, the “War to End All Wars” which was a dozen wars ago – I drew a particular fascination with how the gas mask-wearing soldiers were depicted… they reminded me immediately of Mad magazine’s Spy vs. Spy series, leading me to wonder if the two spies are just depictions of these very soldiers.

Just beside the main hall is the Green Room, so-named because it’s green.  A sign mentioned that it functioned as a ready room for performers, speakers, and such who were about to enter into the main hall.  It made me wonder if this was the Green Room that gave name to such a term when working with events, used to describe the readying room.  Or maybe countless other European palaces already have such a colored room and the Danes were just copying that arrangement (if so, I’d envision Versailles as having inspired that trend… seems like a reasonable guess).

One other thing that really made me enjoy the castle’s interior was the signs for each room.  I’d mentioned this before: the manner in which you sign the history can really make a difference in how one appreciates it.  The Danes did a great job at concisely providing stories and interesting information for each room, whereas the Swedes were a bit to-the-point… the difference being something like “This is the Aquaman Room, built in 1901” versus “The Aquaman Room, built in 1901, was used as the bedroom for Aquaman’s father.  During construction, crews found crystals that would later be incorporated into the building of the Fortress of Solitude.  The room features a merfolk décor, with the mermaid on the far wall wresting Neptune’s trident from his hands, representing the rise of women’s rights among the undersea peasantry.  It was in the southeast corner where Peter Parker was first bitten by a radioactive spider.”

The signing was also generally spaced out across numerous small signs in each room rather than one large big sign, drawing all the tourists to crowd around it so that 3 people are reading and 20 people are staring at the backs of the people reading.  So the Danes got another win for smart signing arrangements.  However, the signing did miss a few things that I’d have preferred to get a bit more info on… namely: most of the paintings didn’t have any definition.  While most were just portraits & I’d soon enough begun to recognize most of the individuals from room-to-room, there were some lovely paintings of what I assume to be historical events or religious depictions, but I had little more to go off of except the occasional Swedish flag adorning a burning ship.

The nearby Teatermuseet – the Theatre Museum – was a place I accidentally ended up at as I attempted to find the entrance to the Parliament.  I’d colored the Theatre Museum blue in my guidebook, indicating a place I could stop by if I ended up there; but not a place I’ll go out of my way to get to.  Since I was there: I went in and checked it out.  Once again, I was pleasantly surprised… but again, I hadn’t been expecting much.  Whenever I approach something with low expectations: it’s easy for me to leave with a high opinion of something.  This museum was small – indeed, when I first entered I thought it was just a toilet until I realized I could go through the closed double-doors – but it was also an entire theatre up for exploration.  The theatre itself was tiny, with the stage & backstage seeming the same size as the entire seating area… but it was just neat to be able to roam about the area.  It was a fun diversion and free since I’d bought the Copenhagen Card… but unless you’re a Theater major with a strong passion for your work: it’d be tough for me to recommend it unless you have that card.

I next attempted to get in on a tour to see the Parliament – only viewable by tour – as I’d spotted a sign that said there was a tour at 2pm… I read the sign seconds before the churches began sounding off that the time was 2pm.  I inquired at the castle’s ticket office how to get into Parliament and learned that the entry is on the other side of the building… so yeah, thanks Lonely Planet.  I’ve always had amazing fortune with Lonely Planet, but their northern Europe guides have been… well, crap.  Places are incorrectly located on the maps, places that are tricky to find even with a map aren’t detailed well enough (or at all), and there are countless typos… a far cry from the great quality of their guides for southern and eastern Europe.

So around I go at a brisk pace, rolling in just as the tour was starting to move through the entry area.  I attempted to nonchalantly join in with the non-English tour, but one of the staffmembers at a desk spotted I didn’t have a sticker to join the group… bah.  Turns out the tour bookings are free, but you have to claim one & this group was full… and it was also the last tour until next week.  Bah.

So next up: Tøjhusmuset, the armory.  Half of it was closed off for remodeling – the portion dedicated to hand-to-hand combat – so admission had been waived… not that it mattered since, again, I had the Copenhagen Card.  What was still open was quite impressive – a collection of artillery spanning from medieval cannons to later artillery to modern rocket launchers.  I was amused at an American warhead which had the warning on it “Caution: before installing warhead or safe & arm device refer to maintenance manual.”  There were a number of Allied and Axis weapons; I bemused how many were pointed at each other before they reached their current positions side-by-side.

I made my way eastward into Christianshavn, grabbing what would function as my lunch for the day at Lagkagehuset – claimed within Lonely Planet to be the best bakery in town (well… a local bakery chain).  I got a danish (not the name they gave it) as well as cookie (the clerk gave me two because she said they were small… despite being the same large size as all the others).  The cookies had a bit of chocolate in the cookie mix in addition to chocolate chips and, I believe, almonds.  I’m really not a fan of chocolate in the cookie mix, so I was a bit repulsed by the smell of it… but it tasted quite good, nonetheless.  The danish was amazing… I’d say it’d be a very low number of those before someone managed to acquire diabetes.  The only problem of it all was there was really a lacking in tasty Scandinavian cuisine, leading me to seriously consider making dessert a staple part of my diet for as long as I’m in the Land of Danes and Danishes.

The Vor Frelsers Kirke was nearby, including a spire which is well-worth the climb.  You go around and around and around a spiral staircase, often pausing to work your way around those on their descent.  It’s a normal walk at first; then you start going through some rectangular bends as you traverse through the still-functioning bell loft (I managed to not be standing right next to them by about 30 seconds… win), then you go outside and start spiraling up again.  You keep going up right up as the staircase tapers narrower and narrower, literally running out of stair as you reach the top: it narrows to about a foot-wide when it just disappears into the spiral’s metal.  It’s an easy ascent; less so when you’re coming down.  As there were some drizzles roaming about here and there amidst the sun, the stairs were wet, narrow, and a tight fit past tourists – many bedecked with large backpacks.  Add in that a slightly low railing is keeping you from a faster descent & that I’m trying to protect my camera and you end up with an experience that certainly got my heart beating a bit faster.  I figured the higher blood pressure would help push through some of the clogs that my lunch had induced.

Nearby was Christiana: a couple decades ago – at the height of the beatnik / hippie movement – a bunch of that very subculture tore into an abandoned military facility and called it home.  They’ve been squatting ever since, largely functioning as its own government independent of the rest of Denmark.  With the government deeming it a “social experiment” and by-and-large giving it temporary status, it seems the government tends to keep its hands off other than the occasional presence of riot police.  Apparently it’s still a touchy subject, with increasingly conservative governments proposing to take a tougher approach on evicting and closing the community. 

I entered somewhat unsure what to expect, as I walked in shoulder-to-shoulder with khaki-wearing tourists: retirees with camera and goofy hats, families with kids in tow, and backpackers with dreads.  That last one seemed more appropriate: the type of backpacker where you’re not sure if they’re hosteling backpackers with day jobs or essentially homeless people who are in constant transit.

Christiana is decked out with large “no photographs” signs and graffiti amid all the other graffiti, which is really quite unfortunate considering there was some truly phenomenal work I’d have loved to capture.  But the restriction on photography wasn’t to protect the artwork – indeed, I’d wager that would go against the very philosophy of the residents – but to let the residents themselves remain as anonymous as they can.  For good reason.  The smell of cloves was strong in the air, with every single table in the town center being occupied by someone doing some form of drugs.  In most cases they were just rolling their own weed, but there were a few openly using heroin or cocaine, despite (per my understanding) all being officially illegal per Christiana’s local government… but I’d gathered police wasn’t something they put much effort into.

This was definitely the place that the teenagers and 20-somethings ended up at, joining alongside adults that never grew up; both genders sporting dreadlocks as the staple hair style and most people looking like they hadn’t bathed in years.  Bravo, peaceniks: way to push forward the peace movement by doing absolutely nothing with your life.  This is why I’m repulsed by peace… its seemingly most dedicated of advocates are such wastes of human life, rotting away day by day.

Later in the day I’d share my experiences with a dad from New York who wanted to visit the area with his ~10-yr old son, saying it’s an interesting place with some beautiful artwork & definitely a place to see, but you really have to be comfortable with your kid seeing a lot of drugs.  I have no idea if they ultimately made it there or if he opted to start their nighttime Tivoli visit a bit sooner.  I’m somewhat leaning toward the latter.

The rest of Christianshavn was OK.  Most of the streets were ho-hum, but the walk along the small canal was certainly a highlight.  I’d definitely suggest taking this route if you’re in the area visiting the church or Christiana.  I continued my canal tour by next crossing to the western shores and heading to Nyhavn.  When you see pictures of Copenhagen: you’re probably seeing Nyhavn.  For good reason: the canal’s frontage had undoubtedly the most scenic and colorful buildings in the city.  I’d definitely recommend walking the southwestern side of the canal: you get the best view of the prettiest buildings (the buildings on the northeast side) and have room to maneuver about (the crowds on the northeast side are thick and plentiful).

Continue northward I made it to Amalienborg Plats, site of another palace.  It was late in the day, however, and the palace had already closed.  The plaza itself was nice, with tourists nabbing photos of the patrolling guards and traffic periodically workings its way through the rotary.  I couldn’t help but laugh at how rigidly the soldiers moved… this is really true for pretty much all guards which have a bit more of a ceremonial role than legitimate defense (not to say they won’t defend if they need to): the guards all patrol such a stringent and timed march that a would-be invader could just time it so that they invade while the guards’ backs are turned.

One of the vehicles to traverse the plaza was a limousine.  I nabbed a few photos before espying the phone number on the side of what ended up being a rental.  I was duped, but learned otherwise with enough time to spare to watch the rest of the tourist hordes flock toward it, hoping to nabs photos of royalty or to at least say “look how close I was!” … no realizing that someone thought it’d be awesomely fun to screw with tourists’ heads.  It reminded me of our “Famous for a Day” prank back home.  At least the tourists who didn’t get it will get to go home with fond memories!

From the plaza I looked up and saw a massive doom cloud of angry gray doom approaching from the west.  Not knowing Copenhagen’s weather patterns, I decided it might be prudent to route myself a bit nearer to transit lines, just in case I might deem them necessary.  Fortunately it didn’t rain… even more fortunate because I soon became distracted and parted from my intended proximity to transit.  I ended up walking back along the Strøget shopping street, a pedestrianized area replete with brand name after brand name.  It’s the place to go if you’re addicted to shopping & want to buy things that you could buy in any major city, but otherwise it’s just a place to go to people watch.  Works for me: the sun was toying with the scattered clouds, I was armed with a cheap carton of tasty strawberries, and it was a very slow ambling back to my hotel room.  It was my most bel far niente sort of moment; the appreciation of doing nothing but appreciate the world.

As I strolled past the east side of Tivoli I admired a children’s playground within its fence.  There weren’t any playthings that were overwhelming different or unique, but for some reason I had this immense urge to run in and start playing… I just had this mental retroversion back to being a wee one.  Curse you, societal norms!

I’d gotten in touch with a friend of mine who was staying in Copenhagen, but having limited access to a phone (without paying an arm and a leg), I decided it’d just be easier to go out and try to meet her at the address she gave me.  I journeyed out there armed with my Copenhagen Card and the assumption that it let me ride the S-Bahn commuter rail for free.  No one ever checked, so that worked out well enough.  It was up near Nordhavn where I knocked on her door & learned she was busy… not wanting to distract her, I left back for my hotel room.  We later worked out that we’d meet up the next evening for dinner.  Finally- some socializing!

I returned in time to catch the music & light show at Tivoli again, noticing that both the music and lights didn’t change the slightest (other than being an hour brighter as it was now a work night; the park closed earlier).   Once again the music piece that they used – which I couldn’t quite place – ended with a string of notes that reminded me of E.T. or maybe Back to the Future; definitely a Spielberg flick.  It goes right up there with one of the churches playing almost the five notes from Close Encounters of the Third Kind… except their 2^nd to last note was a bit off and the last note was totally different.  But so close.

DK - Copenhagen

June 18                 Saturday                             Denmark                             Copenhagen                     

Sleeping in is nice.  My train didn’t depart until 12:30-ish and I was a short walk from the train station, so I took full opportunity of my hotel room my staying in until 11:50 – ten minutes before the latest checkout time.  Soon enough I was on board the train and on my way westward.

The train ride was pretty nonchalant, with my brain attuned to my Lonely Planet guide and my laptop most of the trip.  So while I admittedly wasn’t paying much attention out the windows, it was just past Lund when I happened to spot my first wind turbines; the first sign that I’m finally reaching the lands of windmills.  It was just past Malmö, passing over the bridge, when I spotted a whole legion of wind turbines out on the water.

It was also on this bridge when I mused about the simplicity of it all.  Here there have been centuries of hostility between Danes and Swedes, with countless lives lost crossing between the two lands & so much blood shed exchanging the territories back and forth.  And here I’m on a train full of Danes, Swedes, and assorted other folk making the crossing without the least bit of ill-intent.  Ahh, what would their ancestors think…

But who knows; I don’t view history is consisting of bouts of war; rather, I see history is full of occasional outbreaks of peace.  There have been periods of peace far longer than what Europe is currently experiencing; and even longer between Danes and Swedes… who’s to say we’re not just in another lull?  The loss of power from the monarchies has likely brought down much of the politicking common to so many past wars; but who’s to say the gang mentality of democracy is much better?

I first unloaded my gear at my nearby hotel, the Cab Inn.  It’s so-named as in “cabin”; as in a boat… and wow: the rooms are tiny – definitely not worth the money unless you dearly desire privacy.  My first  task was to head right back outside and do laundry.  I hadn’t done laundry since Reykjavik and at the moment: proper sanitation would be a good thing.  So began my quest for laundry.  I was first directed out to some place further north, but another person at reception offered a place just near the train station… along the legendary Istedgade.

First I wanted to load up on cash and chow.  Alas, my chow required a PIN.  The bank in the train station also required a PIN, parting from Sweden’s need for only my passport.  I tried another bit o’ food and once again required a PIN.  So this could be problematic.  But voila: a credit card payphone not requiring a PIN!  Five minutes later (well maybe ten since it took me five minutes to figure out the phone) I had a new PIN… tested it out at 7-Eleven then then the ATM and wooooo I was a rich man!

So Istedgade, running just west from the train station, would be Copenhagen’s red light district.  Apparently it was quite the street back in the day… but it’s certainly taken on an odd take since then.  But I’ll save that for later: by day it was just a bit of an uncomfortably journey which prompted me to fit my camera into my backpack on the way back.

My search for the “elmegade” was complicated in that I’d assumed that word was Danish for “laundry”; not immediately heeding that the word was actually the name of the street I’d first been given.  But my search for the nearer one continued.  A shopkeeper directed me westward from where my hotel’s reception had marked.  Then a guy at the Turkish Airlines desk directed me back eastward, exactly to where reception had notated.  None of these seemed to be working.  I stopped in at a kebab shop and the clerk just seemed confused, despite speaking English… I think this was because I still hadn’t figured out that “elmegade” doesn’t mean “laundry”.  Fortunately, one of the customers – who looked a lot like a dude from Improv back in DC – directly me precisely to the right spot, located on Skydebanegade.  It had closed 45 minutes ago.

I was on a search for laundry; I needed to do laundry; dagnabit I was going to get it done… off to Elmegade.  This was when I realized it was a street.  Fortunately, a bus took me straight there and I’d arrived at the bus stop just in time to catch it up there.  I broke a 1000 DKK bill on a bottle of soda… that’s like $200.  With change in hand and a couple helpers in the laundry: I was soon on a roll with getting some clean clothes.

I slowly meandered back, nabbing dinner at RizRaz to complement my not-too-distant hotdog from 7-Eleven.  Let me say that RizRaz has AMAZING falafel.  Seriously… when I bit into it, it was like a tasty tasty delightful happiness of tastiness.  The rest of the food was quite tasty, too.  My return stroll took me by Tivoli, a 19^th century amusement park that is still kind of awesome… except for its noted lack of entrances.  I really wish they’d open one up on the east… ahh well.  I made my way into Tivoli as darkness set in, arriving just in time to catch a water & light show fifteen minutes before closing.

Following up such a classical outing: I next went back to the red light district to see what it was like at night.  It was… interesting.  It feels dangerous and uncomfortable for the first few blocks but becomes nicer & gentrified about 10 blocks or so in (which isn’t far).  It included a mix of sex shops, strip clubs, and both cheap & nice restaurants.  I was amused at how many families were looking in the sex shop windows… including one father with 3 young children who seemed particularly intrigued by the wares in a gay sex shop’s window.  But I also loved the two families posing their small children on two lions on each side of the blackened door to a strip club, replete with large images of topless women all over its frontage.  It was an entertaining experience, but I’d explored it with my point & shoot backup rather than be so promiscuous with a large SLR.  Speaking of promiscuous: I was propositioned about a dozen times; and not a looker among them!  Overall the surge of bar-goers helped make the area feel safer at night than by day… there certainly aren’t too many areas that can claim such a credit.