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Nyhavn
Picturesque harbour area by day, not quite as nice by night...Our first impression of Copenhagen was not great. Stepping out from the central station just opposite Tivoli Gardens, both Angela and I were dismayed at the amount of litter. It was everywhere. Piled up against buldings, edge of roads, pavements, you name it, there was litter. This was not the Copenhagen we’d imagined.
That said, the hotel was nice and clean, centrally located, just minutes walk away from the centre. After unpacking, we headed to Tivoli Gardens, world-famous amusement park and pleasure garden. At a cost of 79 Danish Kronor (about £8) we thought the entrance fee a little on the steep, but nothing gained, nothing ventured. Not knowing really what to expect, Angela and I entered the park, taking in the sights that lay before us.
Tivoli, when it opened in 1843, offered a range of attractions, including flower gardens, band stands, merry-go-rounds, and a scenic railway. The buildings were also a major attraction. Oriental-style buildings and theatres, and even a Taj Mahal made people gasp with pleasure. People flocked to the place, especially those with families, and today, nothing much has changed. Children were everywhere. But oddly, Angela and I were disappointed. We’d expected tranquil lakes, large
Hans Christian Anderson
Near the City Hall, opposite Tivoli areas of greenery, with perhaps the odd ride for good measure, but not some rather tacky an amusement arcade, complete with stalls selling candy-floss and key rings. On one nearby stage, a couple of entertainers pranced about, whipping up the largely juvenile crowd with joy. Anyone under the age of fourteen would have loved the place, but for us, it was all a bit too gaudy, too excessively touristy, certainly not the relaxing park we’d somehow expected.
After leaving the park by the northern entrance, we passed through Rahuspladsen, a large square dominated by the massive Radhus, or City Hall. The next day, we would linger over this area, but for now, we headed onwards, along Strøget. Strøget is a long shopping street lined with every shop imaginable. But one name in a store caught my eye. Slutspurt! Only later did I find out that this was Danish for Final Push or in other words, sales! Further along the chopping street, outside some dirty windows were three vagabonds, two of whom were clearly intoxicated. The third man was asleep, a large wet stain along his trousers. People stared but moved on. Angela and I did the same, heading towards
Nyhavn.
Nyhavn means New Harbour and is a popular place in Copenhagen. Lined with numerous bars, cafes and restaurants, the place was thronging with tourists. The colourful buldings make Nyhavn one of the most recognisable parts of the city, one that is often photographed. Famous Danish author, Hans Christian Anderson actually lived in Nyhavn at one point too. Since it was getting late, Angela and I headed back towards the centre, grabbing something to eat, before retiring for the night.
Early the next morning, we were up and about, climbing the Round Tower, a 17th century structure built to house an astronomical clock. It still houses the oldest functioning observatory in Europe and as we climbed the inside of it, we came to a small art gallery, specialising in art made of fabric. Some looked quite good, one in particular reminding me of a red African shield, but we moved on, traipsing around the cobbles to reach the summit of the tower itself.
The view was rather good, and from our vantage point, could easily make out the City Hall and other landmarks. The sun was hot, the sky clear, we were both feeling fine. We
Round Tower
A long, spiralling climb climbed down, back to street level, heading to Amalienborg Plads, an attractive square surrounded by the Danish Royal Family’s residence. We’d arrived at just the right time because a crowd had already gathered, waiting for the changing of the guard. As we stood watching, a troop of soldiers wearing blue uniforms and bearskin hats came marching past. In the August heat, they must have been roasting, but if they were, they gave no indication. One soldier stood by himself, guarding a doorway. I wandered over and stood beside him, wanting Angela to take a photo. Noticing his glance towards me, I said, “I hope this okay. Just getting a photo.”
The young man nodded. “Yes, but move away one-point-five-metres please.” He gestured to where he wanted me to move. Slightly taken aback, I did as requested, but luckily, at that very moment, Angela snapped off a faintly comical-looking photo. It looked like the guard was trying to hold my hand, while my facial expression hinted that I had no wish to partake in any gay tomfoolery.
After the fun of the Royal Guards, we headed north towards the Little Mermaid. We followed a coastal pathway leading to the
sculpture itself. Angela and I had read about the Little Mermaid before our arrival in Copenhagen, reading that many people are disappointed by the size of the sculpture, expecting something bigger. As we approached it, we felt the opposite reaction. I’d imagined a tiny little bronze statue sitting on a rock, but it was actually bigger than that, possibly even life-size. A crowd of people were gathered around, all vying for a good photo opportunity, and just nearby, stallholders hawked tacky mementos, including models of the statue, key rings and other objects.
“Why is it so popular and famous?” I asked Angela. “I mean, it’s nice and all that…but what’s so special about it. I’ve seen plenty of other statues that are better than this.”
Angela nodded. “Yeah, it does seem a bit strange. But I’m glad we’ve seen it.”
This part of the city was clean of litter and actually quite picturesque. A large moat surrounded some higher land, and we suddenly saw the beauty of Copenhagen. This was far better than Tivoli, in fact, this was what we had both hoped Tivoli would be like.
The moat actually surrounded the Citadel, a star shaped
Royal Guard
No, I don't want to hold your hand, you naughty soldier! fortress. We wandered across a wooden bridge, entering the citadel itself, still used by the army today. At one point we came across a windmill, dating from 1857, and the whole place had an air of tranquillity about it. Unlike Tivoli Gardens, there were no hordes of tourists queuing up for rides or popcorn, instead, people strolled through the green hills, admiring the many views.
To escape the heat, Angela and I paid the hefty £16 each entrance fee (including drink) to Copenhagen’s Ice Bar. Kept at a constant minus five degrees Celsius, our Absolute Vodka came in glasses made of ice. The walls were also made of ice with the only thing spoiling the effect was the metal flooring. Suitable chilled, we headed back outside to grab something to eat before bed.
The next day we decided to take a trip to Malmo, Sweden. Catching the 35-minute train proved simple and we were soon in a different country.
Malmo was actually quite nice, with an attractive central square and its own canal. We wandered through a city park, remarking on how nice it was to be away from the tourists of Copenhagen. Later we walked to
the Turning Torso, Sweden’s tallest skyscraper at 190 metres. Opened in 2005, it comprises of nine cubes, which seem to twist as they reach the top. It mainly consists of luxury apartments. After this, we wandered to the beach, where we could see the bridge connecting Sweden to Denmark. All around us people were exercising their dogs or else sunbathing. We finished our brief tour of Malmo by having some coffee and cake in one of the many cafes dotted around the very attractive looking, almost medieval, square. Malmo, we both thought, was great place to visit for the day. We headed back to Copenhagen, happy and content.
That night, after groaning at the extortionate price for a beer and a small glass of wine once more (£5 for a beer), Angela and I decided to do something that many of the locals seemed to do. We went to a supermarket, bought a bottle of decently priced red wine, then found a bench and sat on it, watching people as they strolled past. Other people seemed to be doing the same. As we sipped our drink, Angela prodded me, gesturing straight in front. A drunken man was weaving his
Little Mermaid
I's say life-size way towards us, bottle of wine outstretched, bleary expression etched on his face
“Do think he’s coming towards us,” I said, smiling. Angela nodded, looking straight at him. In his late forties, the man was grinning, and then he was upon us.
“Hello!” he boomed in a jovial manner. “I sit next to you! How you do!” He took the space next to Angela.
We told him we were okay, and the man took this as an opportunity to carry on a conversation. “What wine you drink? I drink a fine Italian! And I very sorry, but I have been drinking all day long and very drunk. You must excuse me! But let me tell you one thing,” he said, looking down at Angela chest. “Your blouse is very pretty! It look so good! I like!”
Angela shifted an inch towards me, but she was actually smiling. Our new friend certainly didn’t seem to be a vagabond, though this was what we both initially thought. He clothes looked okay, and though his hair was a bit of a mess, he looked cleanly shaved. It was then that we had the notion. Perhaps he thought we were
fellow drunkards, maybe in need of company. As the man took a hearty swig from his bottle, I asked him if he was from Copenhagen.
The man’s gaze shifted up to me. “Yes! I live in Copenhagen! But I am originally from Germany. My mother lives here and now I do as well. This is beautiful city!”
We moved on not long after, heading back to Nyhavn to see what it looked like in the fading light. As we wandered off, the man waved and said goodbye. “Enjoy the rest of your stay,” he bellowed good-heartedly.
At night, Nyhavn didn’t look as inviting as during the day. There were more people for a start, some of them drunk, but the main reason was the neon lighting shining from the front of some waterfront bars. It made the harbour scene look gaudy, faintly seedy even. After a glass of wine, we headed back to the hotel, retiring for the night.
For our last morning, we headed to City Hall. We had to be there at noon because there was an organised tour of the tower. Ascending the three hundred steps wasn’t as bad as we feared, and
when we reached the top, the view was amazing, looking over the whole of the city, right up to the coast. At one point, I wandered over to get a photo of the square below, leaving Angela to marvel at the spires and roofs. In my absence she spoke to the man beside her, thinking it was still me.
“If I wanted to kill myself,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to jump off here!” She turned to face him, suddenly aware it was not me. The man looked at her confusedly. “I’m sorry, I do not speak English.”
An hour later, we headed back to the airport to catch our flight back to the UK. Even after all the litter, tourists and tat of Tivoli Gardens, we had both still enjoyed Copenhagen.
Strengths:
• Nyhavn looks wonderful during the day
• Lots of interesting buildings
• The citadel is a lovely park filled with moats, just near to the Little Mermaid
• Very near to Malmo, Sweden, ideal for a little side trip
• Friendly and safe city
Weaknesses:
• Expensive - a pint of lager is about £5, a small glass of wine about £6.50
• Litter
• Crowds
• Tivoli Gardens - just don’t expect a tranquil park - it’s an overgrown amusement arcade.
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