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Copenhagen: What Took Me So Long?
Nyhavn Harbor
I had just about had it with Europe.
Last summer, on a scorching hot day in Tuscany, I was standing in my fourth crammed piazza in as many hours, angling to get a look at yet another famous fountain and perform the ritual coin toss, when a thought hit me—I didn't want to waste another cent on this chaotic scene. In spite of southern Europe's romantic, artistic, historic, and culinary brilliance, I was through with the heat, the grime, the crowds, and the noise. What I longed for instead was a breath of fresh air—preferably cool air off the North Sea—kinder people, and less-harried tourists (not those who, in seeking out the 'good life,' succeed only in sucking up what little oxygen is left in a place after general air pollution has done its damage).
When wanderlust struck again this spring, I kept my vow— the memory of last summer still burning in my mind—and booked a seldom-recognized alternative: sweet Copenhagen, a place I'd always meant to visit, but hadn't.
It was a place I knew little about except for its dear Little Mermaid statue, gay Tivoli Gardens, morning pastries, and bicycling residents. What I hadn't heard was that Copenhagen is known, in certain quarters, as "Paris of the North." Soon after my arrival, however, I realized that, in terms of sophistication, café culture, historical wealth, romantic appeal, and cutting-edge infrastructure, the city actually surpassed the City of Lights.
If I'd formerly bought into the notion that Danes are depression prone, I had much to learn. Bill Bryson once described Copenhageners as perpetually "sweating joie de vivre." The depiction was apt—I didn't see a single pouting or scowling face the whole time I was there.
In fact, if there's anything the locals aren't good at, it's taking their due. Any other city with so much to offer wouldn't hesitate to proclaim its treasures via every available means. Not so, Copenhagen.
Take Kronborg Castle, for example. This UNESCO World Heritage Site widely known as "Hamlet's Castle" is the source of the famous legend of Amleth, a dramatic tale of revenge involving the Prince of Denmark. During the 1200s, the Danish monarch had the story transcribed as a means of boosting communal pride; its hero, Amleth, Prince of Denmark, was an exceptionally clever avenger—not a melancholy Dane with mother issues.
While Shakespeare would later scramble the letters of Amleth’s name to create one of the most tragic figures of all time—Prince Hamlet—Copenhageners never tried to take credit for the play’s origins or educate the public as to their true character. The locals may emulate their national hero, Amleth, in ingenuity—just take a look at their architecture and civil engineering—but melancholy? As Hamlet himself once said, "it is but foolery."
Indeed, Copenhagen is a city that swings, sweats, and celebrates its good fortune on all fronts. Take a walk around the streets that surround Strřget, the world's longest pedestrian promenade, and join in the joyful parade. This mile-long shopping and entertainment district is bulging with historic buildings reflecting centuries of Copenhagen's past. Squares bedecked with fountains and bronze sculptures commemorating the city's heroes interrupt the mall at regular intervals, while tow-headed families stroll, shop, and cheer on street performers; lovers display affection openly on park benches; and tourists settle in at sidewalk cafés, mesmerized by the show around them. It is Barcelona's Ramblas without pickpockets; New York's Times Square without vagrants; the abbondanza of Italy; the historical legacy of England; and the romance of France—all in a safe, clean, and polite city like nowhere else on earth.
Maybe it's the beer that makes Copenhagen such an idyllic spot and its people so good-natured. Back when drinking water was in short supply, residents were rationed a mere 10 liters of beer per person per day! The supplier of this golden elixir, Carlsberg Brewery, grew into such a world- class industry and tourist attraction that it contributes more than pints of ale to the city nowadays—the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek Museum houses one of the world's largest collections of French Impressionist paintings (certainly one good reason the Parisians might envy Copenhagen).
Fun-loving and sophisticated, the Danish capital city is, above all, charming. The city's most beloved icon, the Little Mermaid statue, located on the waterfront near Nyhavn Harbor, is surprisingly small and serene. Commemorating the contributions of Copenhagen's illustrious native son, Hans Christian Andersen, she also reveals the whimsy and fantasy that is so close to the hearts of his fellow citizens.
Meanwhile, a visit to the wholesome Tivoli Gardens, Copenhagen's best-known attraction and the "mother of all theme parks," makes it obvious that another brilliant storyteller, Walt Disney, also borrowed many of his fantastic ideas from this 150-year-old park. Midway games, thrill rides, carousels, fabulous flower gardens, fountains, circus acts, band shells, pirate ships, and exotic pagodas make up only a portion of what there is to see and do here.
In spite of all this, you'll never hear the Danes shouting, "We had it first!" If living well is the best revenge, the Danes have no need for such petty "I told you sos." Rather, Copenhageners seem to think that any attempt at proving an obvious point—say, the unique appeal of their city—is an utter waste of time.
Instead, they're content to let one solitary sign in the airport arrival lounge do the work for them. Its neon lights announce, "Welcome to Wonderful Copenhagen." The only thing you'll be wondering when you leave Denmark's superb capital city is, "What took me so long?"
That is the question.
