Copenhagen, Denmark (First Visit)

Arrival Notes

Anya and I flew back to Kiev and then took a bus back to Odessa after weeks of traveling Europe. I would return, briefly, to Austin, Texas on a lonely flight.

Travel fatigue and stupid mistakes: Getting back to the States was a comedy of errors. I flew to Warsaw, missed a flight, flew to London the next day, missed another flight, flew to Moscow and then from Russia flew to JFK. From JFK I flew to Austin the next day. After about a month I flew to Copenhagen, Denmark where I reunited with Anya. Here is Copenhagen, one of my top destinations in all of Europe. One of my favorite cities, anywhere.

Winter in Copenhagen: black water, ice floes, and no protective barricade separating the promenade from the harbor. In the United States there would be a ten-foot fence and a warning sign. Here the city assumes you understand not to fall in.

Copenhagen is one of the few cities where the idea of a well-made public world does not feel theoretical. You see it in the bicycle traffic, the harbor, the libraries, the parks, and the simple fact that people seem to expect the city to work. It is a capital, but it rarely performs its importance. Even in winter, with the water dark and the wind coming hard off the Oresund, it feels composed rather than grim.

The absence of safety rails was a small but revealing thing. Copenhagen has not removed risk from ordinary life; it has left room for adult judgment. The bicycles are similar. They are not a lifestyle performance or a municipal branding exercise. They are simply part of the operating system of the city, as ordinary as sidewalks or streetlights.

It is also Kierkegaard’s city. He walked these streets and wrote here, niceties like Fear and Trembling, on anxiety, faith, choice, and inwardness, making this part of the modern philosophical vocabulary.

Soren Kierkegaard

There is something appropriate about encountering him in Copenhagen rather than in a seminar room. The city has a disciplined surface, but not a sterile one: canals, old ships, royal buildings, crowded cafés, students, winter light, and a strong sense that a civilized place can still leave you some room to be alive. We were there also in the summer, when the daylight held on until nearly 11 pm. In the city centre, by then, expect a cadre of well-meaning inebriatred Brits. No problem.

If you play your cards right you could be like this guy. In Copenhagen.

Soren Kierkegaard’s grave in Assistens Cemetery, Copenhagen. He lived and worked here, and made anxiety, faith, choice, and inwardness part of the modern philosophical vocabulary. Fear and Trembling, no fear and trembling getting a photograph with the great Dane.

Bicycles are everywhere in Copenhagen.

A still from a video we took while sitting on the sidewalk and watching Copenhagen’s bicycle traffic pass by.

The North Face carry-on that went everywhere with me: tough enough for cobblestones and rough sidewalks, small enough to make it onto planes as carry-on luggage. I spent a long time looking for the right travel bag. This one earned its place.

Nyhavn, Copenhagen, on one of our summer visits.

Copenhagen's King Christian V at Kongens Nytorv, keeping an eye on Nyhavn. Part of the man-on-horse series.

Copenhagen city center in summer: cobblestones, bicycles, and people moving through the city.

Inside the Black Diamond, the waterfront extension of the Royal Danish Library. From the upper floors, you definitely notice the drop.

The Black Diamond looking out across Copenhagen Harbor. Copenhagen, for me anyway, is the kind of place that makes you start considering a different life.

Anya and boats.

Mindeankeret, the waterfront memorial to Danish sailors killed in World War II.

Winter at Nyhavn. The harbor runs straight through the city center: ice, boats, and no fence between you and the water.

The Lur Blowers atop Copenhagen City Hall, two bronze figures sounding the ancient Scandinavian horn.

Nyhavn in the dead of winter, still full of people. A cold day did not stop anyone.

In from the cold.

We got stuck at the train station. Anya slept; the North Face Recon backpack, at left, continued to perform admirably.