The title, as I’m sure my incredibly well-read and sophisticated readers know, is from Shakespeare (come on - its says “Hamlet”). These punny words were spoken to the prince by his mother-cum-aunt regarding his penchant for dark clothing. Having re-read the tale before our journey to Denmark - I assume know you all know Hamlet was a Dane - I remembered this line and thought it appropriate since the rain and chilly weather relegated me to donning “my inky cloak.” Not that a little rain was going to bother us…

So if you’re following along, you know we left Amsterdam in the morning on the “00:dark-thirty” flight in order to make it to Copenhagen and still have a full day ahead of us. This worked out really well. The flight went great and it couldn’t have been easier to take the train into the center of CPH. Once there our resting place, Hotel Nebo, was less than a block away so a quick walk and we were there. While we couldn’t check into our room (it was 10am after all) we did manage to re-hydrate with the free still water they provide, grab a complimentary map, and head off into the city to get our bearings. You can read guide books, you can stare at maps, but the best way to learn a new city is to just take to the streets.

We quickly realizzed we were finally in Scandinavia. Let the real Scandimonium being.  This was the Land of High Taxation, delicious hot dogs, and girls with impossibly blonde hair. I know that Rumpelstiltskin is a German story but the inspiration for turning hair into gold must have come from a Nordic encounter at some point in the author’s life. If beauty salons in California could really mimic that white-gold quality the girls here posess…well I guess it would just make them that much more rich.

I had 3 things on my mind regarding Copenhagen: Nyhavn, the Little Mermaid, and Christiania. Seriously, I challenge you to search for images on Google and not be inundated with photos of the first two. As for Christiania, if you don’t know…its basically a little hippie enclave situated on what was once a Danish Naval base on one of the many islands that make up the outskirts of CPH. As with most things these days, you give people a little freedom and sooner or later the thugs show up. You let a few peace-loving dope smokers hang out without incident and organized crime comes in wanting a taste of the action. This of course leads to authorities wanting to crack down and the whole spirit of the place is changing. All we ended up doing was taking a stroll up and down the main drag, poking our head into the little cafes they have, peeking at the houses (a committee of elders decides who can live there full-time and residents construct their abodes with discarded items found on the base and around the island), and pretending we weren’t intimidated by the Eastern European faction who came to drink beers, sell drugs, and crack skulls. If anyone’s looking for advice, I would recommend a guided tour (check Rick Steves guide for times) which will safely take you deeper into the compound or maybe a bite to eat in one of their supposedly scrumptious restaurants. We didn’t know about the former and had just eaten eliminating the latter. But you know what? It was still totally worth it. 

The rest of the day was spent exploring the Nyhavn area and taking a boat tour of the area. I highly suggest taking the boat tour, which leaves right from Nyhavn. There are actually two companies who give (alledgely) the same tour for two disparate prices. We obviously chose the cheaper one (further down the wharf after the first one nabs all the suckers who didn’t consult their Rick Steves), and bought some tickets. While we were waiting we bought a few cans of the locally-brewed Carlsberg and sat on the dock, people watching and imbibing. The air rang with the yelps of hungry seagulls, the whirls of digital cameras snapping pics, and hundreds of Danish-accented voices no doubt remarking on their splendid weather. Because you know what? The sun was finally shining and it was time to “cast thy nighted color off.”