Coping with Copenhagen

Previously whenever I heard the word “Copenhagen” I thought of chewing tobacco.  Now I have a much better concept of the word.  After a relatively rough day at sea, it was nice to dock in the beautiful city of Copenhagen, Denmark.  In preparation for this port, I bought passes for the “Hop on and off Bus” and mapped out two routes to take.  It was impossible to see everything in one day but we saw a lot.  The weather was cooperative if not a little cold – cloudy, breezy and the high 50’s.

Bill’s favorite sight of the day was the Museum of Danish Resistance.  It had great artifacts of the Nazi invasion of Denmark and the resistance fighters.  I read a young adult book “Number the Starts” which was required reading for my boys in school so I had a little knowledge of the events.  Whereas the Holocaust Museum in Washington is very somber, this museum was more uplifting because it showed how the Danish people bravely combated the enemy.

Our next big stop was Christianborg Slot (Palace).  I have been to Versailles and this palace was almost as impressive. In addition to the throne room, dining hall, and other beautiful rooms, it also houses the Parliament, Royal Reception Rooms of the Queen, the Prime Minister’s Office, and the Supreme Court.    Before entering the palace you had to put blue plastic over your shoes for preservation purposes.  Bill and I looked like we were on our way to surgery.

Since Bill and I have become avid (?) bike riders, we were amazed at how many people use them for everyday transportation.  They have their kids riding in the front or little carts to carry them.  We saw one lady with three kids in her cart and groceries in the bicycle basket.  I guess this is their version of a “soccer mom in an Expedition.”  One man had his wife and child in a cart in the front of the bike.  I asked Bill if he could renovate his bike start taking me places around Germantown.

As I mentioned, we primarily traveled around on the bus.  However, we decided to go to Nyhavn and our bus would not take us back to the ship.  We tried to find a taxi but couldn’t and we were not sure we even had enough money for the driver.  Me, being the “outside of the box” thinker that I am, saw a guy with a little rickshaw that he pedaled.  It was meant for two normal size people but I made a deal with him to get us back to the ship.  I really felt sorry for him going up hills with two lard buckets (us) in the back but he did make a deal to do it.  There were several gawkers along the way.  They were the skinny people who had to walk.  I thought it was hysterical and told Bill that I wish our friends could see us now.  Yes, we did tip him; however, I have no idea how much in American money we paid him.  For all I know, that little bike ride cost us $400.  I am sure the cute driver ended up in the hospital after that ride and will suffer from back problems for the rest of his life.

Nyhavn is a historic little canal where boats with wild sailors would come into Copenhagen.  It has a sordid past; however, it has been restored and called “restaurant row” because of all the great restaurants.  We had wonderful fresh fish at a restaurant called “Barock.”  I expected to see him (Obama) there but I guess he is busy right now.  The beer, Tuborg, was very good.  I wanted to get a picture of a real Dane there on the dock and found an interesting face.  I asked if I could take his picture.  As a result I have a nice portrait shot of the drunkest man in Nyhavn.

Again, I have traumatized Bill.  I read up on a section of Copenhagen called Christiania.  It was an area of old army barracks that “hippies” took over back in the day.  The income tax in Denmark is 40-50% (!!!!) and these “squatters” refuse to pay any.  The area is known for marijuana and hashish.  We were told that the government overlooks the drug scene there but was very strict about tourists partaking.  The penalty is a heavy fine and jail for everyone but the hippies.

Bill was quite tense in this environment needless to say.  I was interested in an anthropologist kind of way.  We walked a few streets that looked rat infested and trashy.  One thing each yard had was pretty potted plants and potted pot.  I said, “Look Bill, there is a little flea market.”  We walked over and each little stall was selling drug paraphernalia such as papers, pipes, seeds, etc.  I talked to a lady who was about my age who lived there for 35 years.  It was a very interesting conversation.  She explained to me how the papers she was selling were recycled (they were brown) and coated with brown sugar so they would stick when you roll them.  Now where else would I get a lesson like that?

I would love to do a documentary about Christiania and interview everyone there. The main road (make that lane or a trail) in Christiania is called Pusher’s Row.  Interesting aromas wafted about.  Each little booth along the way was selling pot and hashish.  I found their preparation and packaging very interesting to watch.  Bill was about to have a heart attack.  He had been whining that he was hungry for the past two hours and I saw a little makeshift restaurant (that is much too generous of a word for that little shack) and suggested we get a bite to eat there.  I said, “Maybe they have some brownies.”  By then he had enough of my curiosity and said, “We’re out of here.”  I am not sure that he breathed at all there because he was afraid he might inhale some of the aromatic smells.  You are not allowed to take pictures which was disturbing to me because I wanted to document it.  I did get a picture of the entrance which was the prettiest (?) part.

After this adventure and Bill’s lack of excitement, I decided not to put the red light district on the day’s itinerary.