Copenhagen Journal, Part II

Sights and sounds in the Danish capital

The Copenhagen Opera House (Photo by Julian Herzog, Wikimedia)

Dear readers: Yesterday, I began a Copenhagen journal, here. Today, with Part II, I finish it.

There is plenty that is classically Danish in this town (as why not?). There is also plenty of the “ethnic” (to use an old-fashioned word).

For instance:

And:

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I don’t mean to knock the fella who did the replica. But I think of an old song; “Ain’t nothin’ like the real thing, baby.” (You’ll find it in Florence.)

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A polar explorer, Ejnar Mikkelsen (1880–1971):

Like you, maybe, I’ve done some reading about the polar explorers. They were incredibly brave (like explorers in general).

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Speaking of the polar:

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Yesterday, I said that I would not duplicate photos from last year’s Copenhagen journal, or try not to. But who can resist the Little Mermaid? I’ll give myself this: I’ve never snapped her with a boat in the background …

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St. Alban’s Church, known as the “English Church.” In the foreground is the Gefion Fountain.

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There is something about an old church and fresh lilacs, isn’t there?

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I can’t help snapping, once more, Churchill in the park named for him:

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I have a friend from Wisconsin who’s of Danish extraction. Here is a text from him: “When my sister and I went to Copenhagen, we were astonished. ‘Are we related to everyone?’ Looking at people on the street was like looking in the mirror.”

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Well, here’s my home away from home, I guess: Journalists’ House (the headquarters of the Danish Union of Journalists) (they unionize?):

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A fetching façade:

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Suddenly, I’m alarmed, for I hear the sound of children screaming. But quickly I realize: I’m near Tivoli Gardens, the amusement park, with its rides. These are happy screams.

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Well, I never: a giant thermometer:

At the top are the “Weather Girls.” When rain is forecast, one girl comes out with her dog, holding an umbrella. (I mean, the girl is, not the dog.) When the weather is fair, the other comes out on her bike, ready to go.

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A night scene: cool, clean, Scandinavian:

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Speaking of the night: near my hotel is a streetwalker. An honest-to-goodness streetwalker. (I’m not sure “honest-to-goodness” is the right phrase there.) I have lived in New York for 28 years. Only one time have I seen a streetwalker. Just once.

Just sayin’.

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My hotel clerk is young—born in the 21st century, as she says. She has never heard of a “wake-up call.” I explain to her what wake-up calls were. She is amazed. She says, “We don’t even have phones in the rooms here.”

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Near the beginning of my journal, I said that no one checked my ticket. At the Copenhagen airport, I had bought a train ticket for the journey into town. No one ever checked it.

Well, no one checks my ticket on the return journey either. Is this what they mean by “high-trust society”? Denmark is famous for being one.

If you have not yet done so and get a chance: go to “wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen, friendly old girl of a town.”