Calling on Copenhagen

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Saturday Lars had to work so I set off solo to call on Copenhagen. Interestingly, the first thing on most tourists’ lists is the last thing we should do according to the Danes – in the figurative, not literal sense. The Danes HATE the Little Mermaid. Every single one I met, including the two brainless hotties visiting Poland, said, “NO! Don’t GO! She’s terrible! She should be drowned!” Lars told me, teasingly, that I wouldn’t be allowed back in the house if I went to see her. I smiled sweetly and said, “But of course I HAVE to see her, what with being a travel writer and all. It’s my responsibility.” Really, I had to see her for the same reason everyone else does - everyone has heard of her. Besides, I loved Hans Christian Anderson as a girl, never realizing that the author of the Silver Skates was also the original author of my favorite Disney movie from which I took my pseudonym in part. Maybe all the Danes dissing her lowered my expectations, but I found her to be just lovely.

The sculptor, though relatively unknown, brings to life beautifully the emotion of the lost little mermaid. She seems to be entirely within herself, reflecting on some deep loss while at the same time nursing the slightest embryo of hope that the loss is not forever.

Trudging through the mist under clouds thick with rain for the twenty minute walk from Amalienborg where I had caught the tail end of the changing of the guards to her lone place in the bay, I was getting rather irritated with her myself and began to wonder if the Danes were right – maybe she wasn’t worth such a long, cold, wet walk. But when I came around the corner and saw the dozens of umbrellas creating a black accented rainbow of colors around her, my heart skipped that beat it always does when you are about to see something for the first time that you have imagined seeing all your life. I’m glad it was raining, for the tourists were duly reserved in a manner befitting her contemplative and somewhat melancholic character. She is just sitting there, her fin-feet curled about beneath her, shining gold at the edges, on her little perch upon a boulder set just slightly off shore. You can’t help but wonder what thoughts are going through her mind. Everything about her is so wrapped within and yet reaching out. You can’t think of her as a statue but see only the young girl who must have posed for Edvard Erichsen and what she must have thought about to create such deep reflective expression. I found out later his “model” was a ballerina he became smitten with after watching her perform the Little Mermaid on stage. The sculptor, though relatively unknown, brings to life beautifully the emotion of the lost little mermaid. She seems to be entirely within herself, reflecting on some deep loss while at the same time nursing the slightest embryo of hope that the loss is not forever. I wanted everyone to go away so I could climb on her rock beside her, and sit with her, looking out at the ocean, thinking of the years that have passed and years that will come, what they have taken, and what they will bring. She touched me, deeply.

I took my pictures, gave my respects, and left her to the chattering, shivering tourists before making my way back toward the city. Taking a different route, one set back a few paces from the water, I came upon the wild crashing waters of the Gefjun Fountain. This statue depicts the Norse Goddess Gefjun as she tames four wild oxen to work the land that according to legend became the Danish island of Zealand. The statue, sculpted by Anders Bundgaard, is dramatic, reflecting the intense power of a determined woman; quite the sharp contrast to the maiden-like simplicity of the little mermaid, though perhaps she is befittingly the virgin maiden waiting to be taken under the wing of Gefjun. An interesting piece of etymology, ‘Gefjun’ brought us the word ‘give’ which translates to wife for wives gave their dowry upon marriage.

Aside the Gefjun Fountain is St. Alban, Denmark’s only Anglican church, and one of my favorites for its quiet simplicity. Copenhagen, like most European cities, is filled with amazing churches. I’ve prayed in enough churches to enough gods of enough different religions and lit enough candles in the last three months that I and every person I know and love, not to mention the rest of the world, should all be happy, healthy, and blessed with love and family forever! While Denmark has faced the same migration away from the church as all western countries, they have a perspective here I have never heard before. They still revere the church’s position, not so much as a means for communing with God but rather for its importance in maintaining the continuity of tradition. People go to church at Christmas and Easter and marry in church not to earn God’s approval, but for the sake of maintaining the customs of man. I mourn our loss of tradition for I believe with it we lost a sense of the bridge that links past with future and our own sense of place in the circle of life. Yet I celebrate the movement from an externally motivated world where punishment and reward and power are the motivating forces to the internally motivated world that arguably was the initial intent of Jesus’ teachings. The loss of tradition seemed an inevitable side effect of ending the institutions that had dominated us for so long. I had never thought before of the possibility of keeping the traditions while letting go of the institutions in the sense that they externally mandate conduct and acceptance. What a wonderful perspective for those of us who cannot follow a church but still appreciate the (potential) beauty of religion.

Just a few steps from the church is the star-shape moated island which is home to the Kastellet, claimed to be the oldest still functioning barracks in Europe. On a pretty day it might be worth more than a cursory tour, but being already soaked through to the skin, just a peak was enough for me. From there I wandered through the abandoned streets of one of Copenhagen’s numerous university areas, blatantly staring into the windows to see the universal Danish love for simple, sleek, sparse decoration – in America it would be school-endured poverty, here it is style. These Danes do have a knack for designing in a way that is sleek and modern yet still beautiful and warm. Many of the buildings in the university area I was exploring and throughout the town are made of brick, a relative rarity in Europe. Interestingly, in Copenhagen many of these older brick buildings were colorwashed with some thick stucco type substance in ochre shades of red and yellow, giving them the textured look of brick without the mundanity of red brick (I know it is not a word, but I like it anyway).

I emerged from the university area to find the castle gardens. Despite the weather, people were still strolling amongst the manicured paths, admiring the sculptures and various flower gardens. By the time I reached the famed Rosenburg Castle, I was getting grumpy from being cold and wet so long. A couple oblivious people and one rude person between me and the process of getting a ticket and I skipped the castle and headed in search of coffee. There are no Starbucks in Copenhagen but their Baresso is a worthy wanna-be. Like Starbucks, they are bustling with energy yet plush chairs invite you to relax for awhile with a cup of warmth on a cold winter’s day (or chilly, wet summer’s day). When you order a mocha latte you will be asked, “Dark or bright?” It took me some confused moments to figure out dark meant dark chocolate and bright meant milk chocolate. When the latte arrives, it is not made with chocolate syrup mixed in, but with a huge chunk of real, delectable chocolate on a stick! You swirl the stick around the coffee, giving it a moment to melt in pure chocolaty goodness. Mmm, mmmm. My first chocolate coffee on a stick experience was set to the melodic sounds of ‘Bad Bad Leroy Brown’ – jazz style. I’d like to say it sucked, but it was actually quite a decent little musical piece. But then it was my favorite song as a little girl because the performer at the night club my parents used to take me to all the time would sing it for me.

Revived and restored, though still with wet feet, I made my way from Baresso down one of the popular shopping streets to the bookstore. I got there just as they were closing and raced to pick up a book on Scandinavia – my first tour book this trip. I scoured the four choices for the one I wanted and raced back to the check out counter, never bothering to do the currency conversion in my head. As I was walking down the street it hit me - I had just spent fifty-bloomin’-dollars on a travel book! Geesh – that’s almost two days’ budget! I drowned my sorrow in what would now be my meal for the day, a $3 hotdog, wrapped in bacon, and smothered with dry onion bits. It was so good I actually felt a bit better. I found a cheap pair of dry socks and with a semi-full tummy and dry feet was beginning to feel human again despite the hole still burning in my pocket from the book purchase.

I must have built up points somewhere, for as I ascended the Round Tower, the sun broke through the clouds casting shafts of light through the windows to light the spiral walkway. The slowly ascending ramp that spirals around the hollow core of the Round Tower is unique in all of Europe. Built around the turn of 16th century, the Round Tower is now also the oldest functioning observatory in Europe. The walkway ends in a short small spiral staircase at the top of which is a small door. On the other side you emerge to 360 degrees of breathtaking views of the city; a city now bathed in beautiful sunlight. I lingered a long time – fighting with my camera (that SUCKS!) to get a few decent shots and enjoying the blue sky and sunshine.

After the tower, I explored Stroget, Copenhagen’s famed shopping street. It was interesting despite the fact I couldn’t afford so much as a bobby pin. While Copenhagen is not dollar friendly, it certainly is tourist-friendly. The tourist sights are actually the only things in town priced reasonably. The city is well-organized and there is plenty of information on the many things to do. They have a transportation website that will tell you how to get from anywhere to anywhere, breaking down train, metro, and bus connections and even linking to walking maps if you have to walk from the station to the site you want to see. The official tourist site for Copenhagen, unlike many, actually gives not only the Top Ten recommendations, but Top Tens for sunny days, rainy days, and other alternative interests. It is one of the few official tourism sites I actually found to be helpful, interesting, and user-friendly.

The non-shoppable shopping street led me to Nytorv, where the extensive train system meets the budding metro system. Nytorv is a huge square that regularly features photo exhibitions. While I was there it was a wildlife exhibition with some of the most impressive photos I have seen since The Earth From Above exhibition I saw in Barcelona. From Nytorv you can take a stroll along Nyhaven – one of Copenhagen’s most famous streets. Paralleling a channel laden with boats, it is lined with bright colored buildings fronted by bustling sidewalk cafes filled with tourists. A short detour takes you to the bridge to Christianshavn – one of the premier neighborhoods in Copenhagen. Here there is a fascinating mix of wealth-meets-wharf and old architecture meets new. I wandered the streets of Christianshavn until I found the Church of Our Savior. I had seen it pictured in a postcard and bought the postcard, knowing that the purchase meant I would have to find and scale the tower. Of the dozens of towers I have now scaled, it would be the first one I climbed on the ouside of the church! Protected by a gilded iron railing, the staircase winds four times around the outside of the church steeple. The young architect had modeled it after a church he had seen in Rome while studying. It was truly a trip, walking an outdoor, spiral, staircase up a church spire! Needless to say, the views were breathtaking.

From Christianshavn I made my way back into town, passing the Danish Parliament known as Christiansborg. Brisk business is at hand in this area with traffic rushing across bridges, bicycles racing by with women and men in business suits, and people walking in and out of the beautiful architecture of the parliament and other buildings that make up the area. I never did find out the name of the huge abandoned building with the odd snail-like spiral spire. I’ll just have to go back for some recon on that. Nor did I get to see Tivoli Gardens, or the Pornography Museum (which I laughed at when I passed it but later read an article describing it and realized it was quite interesting). I hadn’t even touched the area of Norreboro, their Greenwich Village of sorts, which is centered around a cemetery park where the Danes are said to actually sun themselves on the graves. Can you imagine! “Sure Hans, a picnic sounds great! Let’s meet at Eric Ericson XII’s grave over by Ariel Schlemming’s tomb.” So many things I still hadn’t seen but unfortunately the long awaited sun was beginning to set and any more exploring would have to wait until the next day.

The highlight of my next tour day, again shortened by rain and to-dos, was the boat ride with Lars which gave me the canal view of all the places I had walked the day before, including, much to Lars’ dismay, little Miss Ariel herself. On the way to Little Miss we passed the royal boat where Lars pointed out the flag was flying, indicating the Queen herself was on board. Denmark is quite proud of having the longest standing royal family in Europe. Interestingly, the royal family is not only not involved in politics, but its members are not allowed to even take political positions. They are, it seems, mere fodder for the paparazzi; and popular fodder they are for you see their pictures throughout the town, especially those of the recent wedding between the prince and an Australian ‘commoner’. From the bay where the royal yacht was anchored, our tourboat passed briefly through the canals of Christianshavn, passed the impressive new apartment buildings, and around the channel to give us a straight-on view of the stunningly designed Black Diamond – Copenhagen’s new library completed in 1999. The Opera, the Theatre that is under construction, and the Library are each amazing feats of modern architecture in their own right but seeing them just a short space from each other as you travel through the water gives you a profound appreciation for the Danish dexterity with modern architectural design.

The next day I took the train out to Helsingor to see Kronborg Slot. Don’t know it you say? Oh yes you do, you just don’t know you know it. Kronborg Slot is the famed castle of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Not only did Shakespeare write the play set in this castle, but the majority of Hamlet reproductions have been filmed on the castle grounds. Kronborg is not only an elegant Renaissance castle but a monumental military fortress, surrounded by major fortifications replete with ramparts and canons. Unfortunately when I arrived at 4:46 the ticket office was shut up tighter than a drum. It seems “Closes at 5” didn’t mean exactly that. It was nevertheless amazing walking through the grounds and courtyard. They were setting up for a Shakespeare production right there in the courtyard of the castle! I will have to put that on my someday to do list (damn that list is long!)

Tuesday was one of the challenge travel days required in every traveler’s life. It began with the rather bitchy metro attendant who told me the rail pass that the last attendant said was fine, wasn’t fine. She insisted I buy a ticket for the one stop I would have walked if I had known it would cost me $4. I had to fight every impulse in my Taurean nature not to argue with her, knowing full well she was bitchy enough to write me the ticket if I sassed too much. She was the first of a day plagued with transportation challenges. My destination for the day was Rosenkilde, just a few kilometers west of Copenhagen and home to what is claimed to be the best Viking Museum. It was the sort of thing Patrick would have loved and with his birthday coming up, I wanted to do something to honor him and pick up something cool for his birthday. The plan was to stash my suitcase at the main train station, run out to Rosenkilde, then pick up my bag on the way through Copenhagen and continue on to Stockholm. I missed the first Stockholm train I had planned to be on trying to finish up internet to-dos at Lars’. I missed the second train waiting for the rain to stop in Rosenkilde – I didn’t realize it was a 20 minute walk to the Viking Museum from the train station and I had my computer in my back pack and no umbrella. If I turned around then I could make the Stockholm train but I was certain the Viking Museum would have the coolest Viking stuff and just knew I would find the perfect present for Patrick. I was wrong. The shop was terribly disappointing and by the time I looked in every nook and cranny for something decent to buy him, the museum had closed. I grabbed a train back to Copenhagen, threw his less-than-thrilling presents in an envelope at central station, and leapt on the train to Stockholm as the doors were closing.

Even a bad travel day filled with bitchy attendants, rain, and foiled plans couldn’t blemish my impression of this city and its people and nothing could undo the simple enjoyment of my time with Lars. Copenhagen is undoubtedly a city I will not only return to but if I find a way may even live in some day – but only on Danish wages!!