The travel agents arrive in Copenhagen. |
The forecast for this weekend is dismal. Colder than London. Greyer than London. Cloudier than London. We see two umbrellas blown inside out before we even reach our hotel.
But we’re happy to put up with whatever Mother Nature has in store for us, because we’re stoked to be here. And because it might snow.
We walk around for ages attempting to find traditional Danish food. We see Thai, Australian, Indian, McDonald’s, KFC… but no Danish. Then, the motherlode!
Right next to Tivoli Gardens; Tivoli Hallen is a family-run, traditional Danish restaurant. It’s so full of Danes that we’re worried we won’t get a seat.
It’s basically three pieces of raw fish… not entirely my cup of tea… but I wanted to sample a bite and was surprised to find it was quite delicious!
When we stepped outside, we found ourselves in the thick of a snowstorm. The camera lens really can’t capture the thousands of thick, crushed ice blobs hurtling towards the street.
Some of the statues in the Glyptotek. |
Mikey about to test out his underwater camera. |
The cobbled streets of Copenhagen. |
This door to the palace was originally created in case the princess married a Nordic giant. |
By the gardens, we were suddenly interrupted by a large band of marching soldiers. The changing of the guard here is quite a spectacle.
While Paul got a head start at the art gallery, Kat, Mikey and I headed to the distinctive spire of Our Saviour’s Church. Spying it earlier in the day, I’d imagined it was a fairground slide. The reality is nearly as cool – it’s an external spiral staircase offering 360° views of the city.
The canal by the church. |
Waiting for the bus, we realised we were standing next to the most delicious looking Danish bakery in the world.
This is called a Christianhavnstaetre. A nutty cake with strawberry cream and fresh berries. Perfection. |
Where to get lunch was the easiest decision of the day.
Walking through the park towards the art gallery, we got caught in another snowstorm. Mikey and I challenged each other to catch as many snowflakes on our tongues as we could.
I’m not sure who won. But it was fun. |
Having trouble bringing ourselves to go inside the Danish National Gallery. |
As soon as we left the gallery, Mikey grabbed Paul and they ran off skidding in the snow.
Within minutes, Paul was fulfilling a childhood dream…
Fulfilling one of my childhood dreams, we then hopped on the train to North Zealand.
It’s not Abel Tasman’s original name-giving hometown (that’s in Holland), but it’s pretty cool.
Kat and I polished off the Christianhavnstaerte in no time. |
In North Zealand, we visited our third gallery of the weekend: the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art.
The view across the water to Sweden alone was worth the entry price.
Again unable to find Danish, we enjoyed delicious Thai before leaving for the airport.
This was comfortably one of our best weekenders ever. The city, or the people? I think both.