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Published: October 6th 2009
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Picture this.
A place where people are all extremely proper, polite and almost distant; to the point of seeming a little cold, but polite nonetheless. It took the city of Boston hours of nonstop scraping, scrubbing and painting to make Brigham Circle look presentable enough to host the president and hoards "dignitaries" for Ted Kennedy's funeral. In Scandinavia, however, Norway especially, crews of men wearing HazMat-esque suits occupy trucks filled with cover-up paint and window cleaning power washers! (I can see my mom's eyes lighting up at the very thought.) Picture a place where alcohol is so regulated and heavily taxed that drinking a coffee before bed almost sounds more enjoyable than a Bailey's. Sure, everyone smokes, but rarely (if ever) in bars. People on the street walk in a slow, contemplative state. A place where the streets are so clean you feel like you're walking through the Christmas town part of Yankee Candle...
Now transport yourself to a place where an amusement park inhabits the very center of the city... and the amusement only begins there. A place where smoke filled casinos are frequented by intoxicated patrons, lights and people rushing from one place to another, public bathrooms
have stands where women can buy new *ahem* undergarments and men can spray on cheap cologne by the gallon, and prostitutes parade up and down streets lined by erotic stores (also selling the alcohol of your choice.) This is still Scandinavia, but damn it, this is Copenhagen!
The best analogy I could draw within the first few minutes I ascended from the depths of Københavns Hovedbanegård (central station), was that this was like going to sleep in Greenwich and waking up in Las Vegas. I was so sure in fact, that I offered these sentiments to another American I met at a pub I needed to visit in order to get over my initial awe. "You really think so?" the person on the next stool asked. I thought for a second. "Well, I've been to neither city. But, yes. I want it to be that way, so I'm pretty sure it is." Fair enough.
As the pictures tell, there is much more to life in Denmark's largest city than the afore mentioned gluttonies. But before we move onto that (in the form of pictures because, face it, beautiful things are just not as much fun to read about
as debauchery, in any form.) But one last thing. I met a guy who claims to own the largest personal Lego collection in all of Denmark, SCUBA dives professionally and was very proud to tell me about lobsters he keeps in his home as pets. The guy was a real character. Anyhow, he told me about a bar right across from the train station that separates the red light-ish district from the rest of civilization. "Go there," he told me. "At any hour, you'll find some real creatures that come in... from regulars to working people to pimps to prostitutes to tourists. Creatures."
So, since the circus was closed for the season, I figured I would check it out. He wrote the name down 'Jernbanecafeen.' This was the heaven of dive bars. Not only did I see one guy who looked a little bit like Vanilla Ice, dressed in the quintessential pimp fake fur coat, I met plenty of the regulars who reminded me of Mike's Restaurant, even though mom would give dad annoyed looks every time he let me go in there with him (though I did come out smelling the same.) The place (http://www.jernbanecafeen.dk/) is owned by
Tivoli Gates
Sadly, closed until the Halloween exhibits in mid-October generations of... well... the family who owns the place. I spent an hour or two there, talking with the bartenders (all very nice) and regulars who tried to convince me to stay and sing karaoke, which I refused ('but you're pretty,' one of them said, 'you stay and sing!' I laughed in my beer so hard the suds went all over my nose. Wiping them off, I pointed out that, 'even if this were the case, beauty on the outside doesn't necessarily go deep enough to the voice... there are some very, very, ugly people who sing very, very well.' Point taken.)
I did walk away from the Jernbane with a bronze medal, awarded when a punch card is filled with stamps. I was disappointed to not have enough time to make my country proud with the gold, but alas...
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Jessi
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You'll just have to go back another time to earn the gold! We'll make a field trip out of it, I'm sure you just didn't have the proper encouragement and support.