Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen: Amsterdam's Twin?
I know: we have done a lot of traveling outside of Amsterdam this summer. But both Peter and I had always wanted to visit Copenhagen, so we packed our bags a few weeks ago and spent a long weekend there. I had the tune and the lyrics to a song, Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen in my head as we toured the city. Like so many of my childhood memories, I wasn't even sure if that was a real song, or something I made up and had now convinced myself was real. But I recently googled it and, sure enough, it's from a 1951 movie called Hans Christian Andersen staring the unforgettable Danny Kaye. No wonder the lyrics are so firmly planted in my brain (and because important information like that is taking up valuable brain-space, that could explain why I'm having such a tough time learning to speak Dutch). Sadly, the person who posted the clip on YouTube does not share the same fine attention to detail about long ago songs from childhood movies. Hence the mistitled, Beautiful, Beautiful Copenhagen.
I didn't want to put anyone off by using a show-offy word in the title of this blog post, but now that you are happily reading along, I'll give it a go. In many ways, Copenhagen is Amsterdam's doppelgänger. There! I've finally been able to use that word in a sentence that I wrote. A doppelgänger is defined by Merriam-Webster as a double or alter-ego. So I think that fits here. Both cities are filled with bike lanes and bicyclists. Both have lots of dogs. Both have charming architecture. Both are hipster havens. And Copenhagen even has a few canals. They are very proud of them. Both are great for wandering around and soaking in the architecture.
Hans Christian Andersen is a B.M.O.C (Big Man of Copenhagen). I thoroughly support building statues to the brilliant author of enduring works like The Emperor's New Clothes. How many times is that the perfect story to illustrate your point? So, so many times. I want to be the little boy who has the courage to speak up and tell the emperor he is naked.
Our bike tour of Copenhagen (more about that later) took us to this neighborhood, Christianshavn. We felt right at home.
There were a few differences we noted. For one, it seemed cleaner to us. Then again, the heavily tattooed ex-Californian owner of a breakfast place we loved said that Copenhagen has gotten steadily trashier in the past few years. He did agree that the dog "remainder" problem that plagues Amsterdam was nonexistent in Copenhagen, and that the cyclists are more law-abiding. They tend to stay in the bike paths and stop for lights. Since this fellow visits a friend in Amsterdam every few months, we found him eminently qualified to weigh in on the differences between these twins cities. Maybe they are fraternal twins?
I saw these in the Statens Museum for Kunst - a terrific art museum in Copenhagen - and I think they are so wise. I thought about the message in terms of my feelings about the U.S., but also about my new-found feelings about Amsterdam.
In addition to my mind conjuring up images of Danish pastries when I think of Denmark, there are a few other associations I have grown up with. There's that play about the famous Dane, Hamlet, whose every nook and cranny was drummed into my head by my brilliant but oft-cranky 8th grade English teacher, Mrs. Shepherd. There's the Danish reputation for genius in design. And, of course, there are LEGOs. I saw many examples of how these traditions are alive and well in Copenhagen today. The Lego Lady, below, kind of looks like my doppelgänger, don't you think? The building in the middle is a good example of the Danish genius for design. They took an abandoned water tower and made it into apartments. With a view of the water, no less. And on the right, a gift for the teacher in your life: a lamp with pencils serving as the shade. Brilliant!
Another icon of Denmark that I came in search of is a young lady known as Den lille havfrue, or The Little Mermaid. She has been sunning herself near the water in Copenhagen since 1913, way before Disney created a copy. She's based on a story by, you got it, Hans Christian Andersen. She's a superstar to me because my parents brought back a tiny replica of her as a souvenir after one of their trips to Copenhagen. I treasured her. I assumed that the real statute was a grand as the Statute of Liberty. In fact, she is much more petite. She's only about four feet tall! That would explain why she is such an easy target for vandals. Apparently, other people don't hold her in the same high esteem I do. Over the years, she has lost her head twice (once to "activist artists"), lost her right arm, been draped in a burqa, and been splashed with paint. Is that any way to treat a lady?
I didn't want to embarass myself by climbing out to touch her, and running the risk of slipping on the rocks into the water. Also, I thought she may have wanted her privacy, an insight the little girl in blue seems not to have shared.
Although it may have been as comfortable to us as an old shoe, Copenhagen was wonderful in so many ways. Let's start with the fact that there were free things. Those of you who know me well, know that I am a sucker for the free give-away (and the Whole Foods doppelgänger, Markt, in Amsterdam can attest to my love of a gratis sample of food). On our first day in Copenhagen, after a full day of walking around, we saw lots of people happily clutching small ice cream bars, chocolate- and vanilla-striped. Imagine my surprise and delight when I followed the trail to the inside of a clothes store, to find a young girl with a cooler handing out the ice cream. For free. And to anyone who wanted one. This may have been somehow related to Fashion Week (more on that later), but she didn't care that I was not clad in black or covered in tattoos. Out I strode, head held high like a model, sashaying out with my free ice cream. One free item does not a trend make, however. We visited the Museum of Copenhagen the next day. Truth be told, we had an hour to kill before our bike tour began, and the museum was nearby the starting point. "How much is it for two adults?" I asked, hoping it was going to be cheap. "It's free today," was the cheerful reply I got. Not quite as amazing as free ice cream when you need a snack, but pretty darn close.
As with most of those unplanned things you do on holiday (getting my European vibe on by calling it a holiday, not a vacation, like any self-respecting American does), the Museum of Copenhagen was a gem. One terrific exhibit was called The Dream of a City. It was right up my alley. The museum asked a group of children to use their imaginations to build a city of the future, a city that was respectful of the environment and brought nature into the cityscape. In addition to the designs, there was a huge room filled with LEGOs for visiting kids to construct impomptu cities. I really wanted to build one. Best name ever (on the first photo): August Summersmile, or in Danish, August Sommerglad. I hope the cities of the future are full of people with names like that. This was a truly magical exhibit. I actually saw a random butterfly flying around as I explored. Of course there was!
I learned a lot about the 1,000+ year old city of Copenhagen at the city museum. I think New York City could learn from some of the steps Copenhagen is taking to combat climate change. They are working on ways to deal with an increase in the amount of rainfall by adding canals and more green-space, as well as water towers and green roofs that can absorb water. August Summersmile must be happy about that. The water exhibit also told me that it rains 113 days of the year in Copenhagen. That's almost every third day. Impressive, right? That is, until I double-checked and found out Amsterdam out-rains Copenhagen by 100 days. In their Danish ability to see the half-full glass, however, the museum followed up the information on the rainfall totals with the sunny observation that the wet climate and damp soil have created ideal conditions for preserving ancient objects.
I also learned about Copenhagen's efforts to include more green space in the city. In one recently-built park in the Nørrebro neighborhood where hipsters and recent immigrants live as happy neighbors, they included swings from Iran, fitness equipment from Turkey, cedar trees from Lebanon, and palm trees from China to make the environment match the diversity of the people in the neighborhood. Brilliant.
Apparently our thoughts about the similarities between Amsterdam and Copenhagen aren't just a brilliant idea coined by Peter and me. At the museum, I learned that In the 16th century, the Danish king invited a group of Dutch folks, the Amager Dutch, to come help teach them how to grow veggies. They were treated like royalty, and given special privileges, like not having to pay taxes. I guess that left them with extra money to buy fancy clothes and huge hats, as shown in this photo.
As luck would have it, we happened to be in Copenhagen during Fashion Week. That meant we were treated to a lot of tall, slim men and women dressed in black or white, many man buns, and lots of elaborate tattoos. We even saw a window with live mannequins who looked as bored as plastic ones. Seeing all those fashionable people out and about made it even more obvious that a parallel Unfashion Week must also have been meeting in Copenhagen the very same weekend. It was like a live version of the reality show Rachel and I used to watch on Friday evenings after a long week at school, What Not to Wear, except there were no experts dispensing advice on the fashion faux pas nor any after-photos of miraculous fashion transformations. Instead, there were travel vests and matching capris (on men, no less), and lovely sandal/sock ensembles. I cropped the heads of those fashionistas to protect their identities.
Thanks to a tip from an Amsterdam friend, we took a terrific bike tour of the "diverse neighborhoods" of Copenhagen. Our guide, Christian, clearly knew and loved the city, and struck the perfect balance between stopping to talk, and just letting us ride. He pointed out how much the Danes loved their kings, most of whom happened to be named Christian, too. The gold C was a precursor to the Nike swoosh - a logo that emblazoned so many of their buildings. Those King Christians really liked to build.
Christian pointed out that Copenhagenites use every inch of available green space. There is no aversion to walking around cemeteries. They double as parks. I guess it takes some getting used to, but we cast our fears aside and returned the next day to wander around the large cemetery/park he showed us. There weren't crowds, but we did see others searching for the "famous" graves: Hans Christian Andersen and Søren Kierkegaard. We happened upon a scruffy young man (a Kierkegaard groupie?) who had camped out overnight and was still dozing, which we decided we could never do. Even if you aren't the least bit superstitious, there's just something about sleeping in a graveyard that doesn't sound very restful.
Christian also showed us the new construction cropping up everywhere in Copenhagen, especially along the waterfront. And in another example of the resourcefulness of the Danes, we saw a "beach" that was filled with kids. I wouldn't quite have fit in in my bathing cap and goggles, but it did look tempting. I loved how Christian retold the recent redevelopment history of Copenhagen through his personal story: he grew up in the countryside outside the city, moved there to attend university and lived in a neighborhood called Nørrebro, moved out when he got married and it got too hipster/expensive, moved to Versterbro, which used to house ladies of the night and now houses upscale young couples, and is now looking to move outside the city because he can't afford a place that fits his two-kid family. The modern waterfront housing he is pointing to is where his attorney-sister and family live, he said with a hint of envy, or maybe just pride.
Armed with lots of eating suggestions from our bike tour guide extraordinare (yes, it was a bike tour, but a gal has to eat, too), we set off in search of some of the food destinations that Copenhagen has become famous for. Apparently, when Noma was named best restaurant in the world in 2010 (and three more times since then), that sparked a food explosion in the city. We didn't go to Noma, since we would have had to make reservations months ago, and we can't plan that far ahead. But there were so many other amazing places to choose from that we didn't feel we had missed out. I don't want to be one of those tourists who snaps photos of every meal I eat. But I just couldn't resist at Kødbyens Fiskebar, where every dish looked like a painting. And where we were surrounded by beautiful people/Fashion Week attendees who, as Peter said, were the type who all talked at once and didn't listen to a thing anyone else was saying. Fiskebar is one of the many new restaurants in the meat-packing district. Christian told us that the Danes sent emissaries to New York's meatpacking district to study how to gentrify theirs. That accounts for the restaurants we saw named Soho and Noho. By the way, I would like a job that involved travel to other cities to study/eat in restaurants. What's that job called?
And I would be remiss if I wrote about Copenhagen without at least one shot of one of their glorious open-faced sandwiches. These beauties were at the Torvehallerne, a food market that must have some sort of magnetic pull, because somehow, we found ourselves there twice.
I'm quite sure that when my folks traveled to Copenhagen back in the 70's (twice, because they loved it so much), there was no such thing as a hipster restaurant. Copenhagen, although beautiful, was undoubtedly much grittier back then. But some of the famous names I remembered my mom talking about (and shipping home) still exist: Royal Copenhagen dishes are everywhere, and her ultra-modern silverware of choice, George Jensen is still a big business. The other big name I remember hearing was not something that could be shipped back home: Tivoli Gardens. In my imagination, it was an enormous field filled with flowers of every size and shape. I'm sure many tourists are also a bit bewildered when they arrive in Copenhagen to find out that Tivoli Gardens is an old-fashioned amusement park. Since the Vine-Druckers are scaryride-averse, we didn't venture inside the park. However, our hotel had a view of the park, and that was plenty of excitement for me. The shrieks we heard was we walked past confirmed for me that this was a tourist attraction I would best experience from afar.
There are some questions I had about life in Copenhagen. The first is a serious one: what is Jewish life like there now? The one synagogue that was listed on the map was locked and guarded, the result of a terrorist attack on February 15. You couldn't help but feel sad when you saw the heavy metal gate that kept out both attackers and visitors, alike.
I thought back on the famous story in books I read with my classes about the Holocaust in Denmark: Number the Stars and The Yellow Star. Both chronicle how King Christian X wore a yellow star and inspired all Danish citizens to follow his example. It turns out that the story is fictional. Nevertheless, the king and most of the Danes did stand by their Jewish neighbors and most Jews were spared the fate of those in other European countries. I hope that spirit still exists in Denmark today.
My other questions about Copenhagen are not serious or important. First off, what's up with walking the bikes? We saw so many people doing it that it was clearly not just a coincidence. People in Copenhgen seem to walk their bikes a lot. I hardly ever see anyone do that in Amsterdam, which results in a lot of folks riding where they don't belong. But the opposite was true in Copenhagen.
Come on people, those are bikes. Get on and ride, or leave them at home and walk. O.K.?
Another question I have is about the heat in those basements. There seemed to be a lot of restaurants, coffee places and stores below street level, in the basement. That sounds cozy and charming, except they were all really hot. I thought basements are supposed to be cool. In Maplewood, N.J., we used to retreat to the reliably chilly basement when it got hot. So what's with the basement heat, Copenhagen? I suppose if we go back there in February, I'll sing a different tune. In August, it was a hot puzzle.
So if you want to spend time in a really charming city with beautiful buildings and parks, interesting museums, and good coffee...come to Amsterdam. And if you also want wonderful food, then visit Copenhagen. Sorry, Amsterdam, but it's the truth.
I found a little place we could retire to. Not a bad view.
And here's a spot, in the Botanical Gardens, where I can see spending a lot of time with coffee and a book.
Before I close, I'd like to weigh in on the reputation that the Danes have for being happy. In fact, for two years, in 2013 and 2014, they took the top prize in the United Nations World Happiness Report. In 2015, they fell to third place, behind Iceland and Switzerland, two other countries on our ever-growing/never-shrinking to-visit list.
It turns out that perhaps the reason the Danes fare so well on happiness tests is because of something called low expectations. In other words, they don't expect life to always be a picnic, so when it isn't they aren't disappointed. The famous Danish happiness might be better described as contentment, rather than happiness. When I was recently back in the U.S. (future blog post, no doubt) I drove Rachel and a few of her friends to go tubing on the Delaware River. One of the best parts of the trip was the hour in the car, in which I got to listen in on their conversation about college. It turns out that we all decided (O.K. I decided, and pontificated to them) that maybe the college experience would be better (dare I say, happier?) if they didn't have the impossible expectations created by popular culture and endless photos on Instagram telling you college is "the best time of your life". It's a deceptive message that we baby boomers tend to reflexively proclaim to our kids. Maybe if you walked in with lower expectations, you would be happier there, armed with the knowledge it's not going to be all fun and games 24/7.
I think Amsterdam expats could also take a page out of the Danish book and approach life here with lowered expectations: knowing it's going to be great at times, but also just so-so plenty of times. That way, when the rains come, and you miss your family, friends, and Trader Joe's, you won't be so disappointed. It's all part of the package called living abroad. Fabulous most of the time, but not always.
In the cab on the way back home from the airport, I was actually thinking that maybe we would take a break from traveling for awhile. Then this song came on, and I realized that it was an omen that we needed to start planning our next excursion. It could also be a nod to the Danish philosophy on happiness. "Don't stop thinking about tomorrow." Sounds good to me!
Fleetwood Mac is one of the many aging bands/singers to tour Amsterdam recently (along with Neil Diamond, and soon Van Morrison). What's with the old folks still touring? I guess it's about money, or it's what makes them happy. And it makes us happy to go hear them again, I guess. Proof that we can't be so old, if we can still make it to a concert that ends at midnight.
Sure, college is wonderful, but then so is Copenhagen, when you are 50-something. And what could compare with driving down Interstate 78 with your friend's mom to go tubing on the river after a very dry August? Just lower those expectations and we will all be happy as clams.