Copenhagen

Another city of boats, barges and canals in a country known for progressive attitudes and great public transport. Our new berth would be on a restored barge turned house boat moored in a quasi industrial area on the outskirts of the City proper. The area was across the river from the city proper on Amager Island at the end of Revshalen. In advance, we had obtained Copenhagen Cards, which gave us unlimited use of all the public transit options and most of the attractions and museums. For simplicity, we took a taxi from the cruise ship to the house boat but immediately observed both conventional bus and water bus stops in sight of our house boat.

On a cruise they feed you morning, noon and through the night. On the houseboat we would be on our own. We met our hostess, Jette, with her advice, after unloading our baggage, we proceeded to the local market by bike. Thereafter we would take the bus. Although we were out of town at the end of the line, the bus shelter was outfitted with a time of arrival display. Buses ran every 10 minutes, one was coming our way. We displayed our Copenhagen Cards and hopped on board.

On our fifteen minute trip, we crossed waterways with paddling ducks, small but lush grassy meadows with scrub woodlands and red brick houses, passed by the Opera House, through a college complex and noted two more waterbus stops before arriving at the market. It was lovely; here we were in an industrial zone, on the outskirts of a major metro area and everything was clean and green with NO TRAFFIC CONGESTION!

Confession: I love a foreign grocery market. This is how folks really live. What is the selection? What is popular? What is affordable? What new product can I try? The little market did not disappoint. Copenhageners like rich food. Particularly they love meatballs! There were more varieties of meatballs than I have ever previously seen. The dairy products were labeled with the exact amount of butter fat. Not just non – low – full but the precise percentage, staggered by half-percentages. Copenhageners do not prefer non-fat or low-fat dairy. Forget about milk substitutes, they want the real deal. The sole alternatives were goat and sheep milk. There were ample varieties of cheeses and pastries but few prepared foods, aside from the plethora of meatballs. The wide variety of beautiful vegetables came in small packages, no bulk purchasing going on here! With a load of bread, wine, produce and dairy we headed back to the houseboat.

Our houseboat accommodation was the bow third of the barge. When there were no rental, it was literally, the mother-in-law apartment. We met Mom upon our arrival. The owner's family of four resided in the main stern portion. Our section consisted of a small living room with a ladder down to a small kitchenette, bath and adjoining bedroom. The owner had rebuilt the boat using recycled materials. No surprise as he operated an architectural recycling company! While the random and slapdash carpenter, distressed Francis' fine woodworker sensibilities, I found myself impressed by the wit and ingenuity of some of the modifications. The bedroom door was a steel boiler-room hatch! White walls, ample portholes below and a windows above kept the small spaces from feeling cramped. A window wall formed the bow of the living room, when we weren't exploring Copenhagen I would watch traffic on the water and activities all around the dockside

Our houseboat was in an enclave consisting of an interesting mix of moored barges, functional vessels and stable houses on pilings. At the end of the pier was the waterbus stop, which was surrounded by large scrap metal sculptures, and the opposite side of the pier was a permanently flooded dry-dock, home to a partially surfaced submarine! On the other side in the navigable waterway was an impressive series of red brick buildings housing a nautical military school. Every evening at sunset they fired off a vintage cannon.

At the very end of the cove was a small Italian Bistro. The Bistro itself was tiny, just a kitchenette with three rustic tables, in which the chef owner and his girlfriend prepared beverages, plus the option of a single daily meat, fish or veg entree. While internally tiny, externally the Bistro had it's own floating docks and a handsome wooden barrel-stave sauna, than the Bistro itself. The sauna was a small rotund cabin with a glass wall facing toward the waterside. Throughout our stay we could see happily sweating young people through the glass partition in the sauna. Quite unselfish-conscious, they would strip off their clothes before entering the sauna naked or in minimal underwear. After warming themselves, they would jump into the very cold water of the cove. The good food from the Bistro augmented by liberal quantities of beer and ale appeared to fuel the process. The action on the water was just as entertaining. Boats of every size and power came into the cove along with aquatic birds. There were scullers by day and sailboats at dusk. Ocean kayaks shared the waterway with immaculate wooden lap-stakes and well-worn functional fishing skiffs.

On into town

Down to the waterline, the waterbus barges came about every 45 minutes. We were the next to last stop on the waterbus. It was slow trip into town, not only because a ship moves more slowly through the water but also because the waterbus seemed to be first choice of families with strollers. Every stop had them loading and unloading, carefully negotiating the slippery mesh ramp into the ship. Often the parents would them have to carry the stroller down a few steps into the seating area, or face the wind and spray from as we proceeded through town.

While our location was industrial with a makeshift loading dock and found scrap metal sculptures, the rest of the stops were in established, historic or upscale locales. We rode across the river to a stop which we discovered was just behind the royal garden and design museum. Our return trip would make a circuit from the museum, to the new ultra modern opera house, a fancy touristic shopping district and the historic Nyvern canal. Why take the high priced and crowded canal boat tours, when you can ride the waterbus with the locals?

Housed in the former royal Library building a surrounded by small royal garden, the Danish National Design museum was everything you expect of Scandinavian design. Francis who loves chairs, was delighted to discover a hall of chairs, displaying both seating from ancient cultures juxtaposed with the modern designs they inspired, fascinating. My favorite Hans Wegner Wishbone chair was, no wonder, sitting next to a Chinese bow-back. A main presentation was a retrospective of Danish influences on industrial projects, beautifully made toothbrushes, vacuum cleaners and audio equipment. It was Ikea at MOMA. There was also a retrospective of less practical but quite whimsical modern designs, ranging from an all wood bicycle, one made of bamboo, a sculptural face dress of woolen knit and a chair of newspaper. Upstairs were examples of 15^th through 17^th century Danish porcelains and enamels. A bit ornate for my taste but exquisite never the less.

Next door to the design museum was a sponsored artist's workshop. Each month a craft artist would would setup a pop-up workshop in the space. Explaining their techniques and selling their product. This month it was a screen-printer, making lovely hand printed linens for the home. Delicate florals and woodland grasses loosely spread across natural fibers in gentle colors. Very Danish design. The excellence in design extended to the manhole covers on the street. They were not plain utilitarian metal but were cast with interesting Copenhagen motifs.

Energized by a boat ride and eyes filled with beauty, we wandered off in search of a good but inexpensive place to eat. Hmm, the latter can complicate the issue. When we found a small outdoor bistro on a quiet street serving regional specialties, we deemed it perfect. Even more ideal, there was yarn shop across the street! My perfect souvenir, a skein of real Danish wool milled in Denmark from Danish sheep and it was in shaded tones that resembled the deep blue sea and lighter waves on the Atlantic. While on the cruise I had modified a wave lace pattern to make Jette, our Copenhagen hostess, a scarf; now I could make myself one.

The tables faced a fantastic carved water butt of spouting dolphins and other sea creatures. There was very little auto traffic but we could watch the people ride by on bicycles. There are more bicycles than cars in Copenhagen. Older individuals on three-wheelers with large capacity rear baskets. Mothers on tall street bikes, guiding their children alongside. What is better than a scenic view and people watching to go with your lunch? A charming and helpful waiter is bonus. He not only advised us knowledgeably about our meal options but chatted about his travels in the US, on both the East and West coasts. He was finishing his degree programs and would soon shift from waiter to therapist.

Our boat ride back to the houseboat turned out less calm. Upon disembarking the water-bus I realized that my phone, my new phone, had slipped from my pocket. After having our hostess try to call the office, we found it was closed. The office was located adjacent to our wharf. Biking over only to find it was predictably shut. Back to the water-bus pier, to wait for the next boat. It was a different vessel. There were three in circulation. Explaining my plight, the captain said he would radio the other captains. By this time, I was mourning the loss of my lovely brand new phone. Losing such an article on any U S public transport, it would be long gone, picked up by another passenger. Never the less, I returned to the pier for each subsequent water-bus. After all I had nothing further to lose! Hours later the same vessel I had ridden, pulled in. As they docked the first mate approached smiling. He said in a teasing voice “Are you missing your baby?” and handed me my phone! Oh my, that would not happen on the Staten Island Ferry!

Royal Horses, Kitchens and Costumes

We tended to take the regular bus as it ran so frequently. The next day we walked past the Tivoli Gardens but our goal was the Maritime Museum and Royal Stables. As it turned out the stables were their own virtual palace and were adjacent to the actual palace with fascinating royal kitchens and theater open for inspection. A historical retrospective of carriages, saddles and royal riders were on display but the most marvelous part of the royal stables were the royal horses. Beautiful mellow white mares and stallions, pressing their soft noses against the barricades in hope of a friendly scratch. They would turn their heads to give their admirers better access - - a little bit behind the ears, if you please. There were signs advising not to touch the residents but neither the four footed nor their two footed visitors were having any of that.

The royal kitchen was set up to resemble the preparations for a 1937 gala. In the huge vaulted cavern of the royal kitchen proper, hung series of copper pans shiny bright and the massive ovens glowed roasting mock tenderloins and poultry for the feast, while the original menu and recipes were posted at the various work stations. In an adjacent storage area, a video documentary narrated by the current chef and assistants described how modern banquets are prepared and served for state dinners. The royal theater was dwarfed by the kitchen but the extraordinary costumes on display more than made up for lesser proportions. The theater was still in use. Now presenting plays for the general population not just the royal family.

Francis was most interested in the maritime museum. This was a study in contrasts, military armaments clashed with the plight of refugees. While it seemed more oriented to conflict in general than seafaring in specific, Francis did find the souvenir for which he had been searching. A “monkey-fist” is a complicated ball-like sailor's knot which he wanted to use as a keyfob. In full size the monkey fist would be a throwing weight on a ship's heaving line. The museum gift shop had a supply of diminutive “monkey fists” perfect for this application. He was satisfied with his find. The next day we would take the train to Elsinore, where there was a new maritime museum built into a former dry dock.

Elsinore

Our Copenhagen Passes gave us free rein on the local trains. The bus from Refshaleven stops right in front of the Copenhagen train station. It was nearby the Tivoli Gardens, Through the Gardens fencing we could see brightly painted structures and rides. It was not a season of full bloom but it still was a colorful atmosphere. Catching our bus downtown to the main station, we found the platform for Elsinore. The train was right on time, a nice commuter style diesel with comfortable bench seats. We settled in for the hour train ride through suburban and exurban towns along the coast. Everywhere the environs were tidy, very little trash along the tracks, light industrial developments gave way to clustered houses and then larger seaside structures. Modern architecture contrasting without conflict with older traditional Scandinavian buildings. Both styles seemed perfectly sited in their environment.

Arriving at the end of the line in Elsinore, the train station was a Victorian gingerbread edifice at one end of town. Surrounding the station were kiosks of flower sellers and small shops leading to a warren of small streets into the town proper and off towards the harbor, Kronberg Castle and Sweden. Right across from the train station was a guitar shop. We wandered in and discovered the owner working on some guitar electronics. He was clearly a heavy metal fan, judging by his background music. Striking up a conversation, we found out he had lived in NYC for decades and now spent his Winters in the Florida Keys. We traded contact information, amazed at the small world coincidence.

Our primary destination, the new maritime museum was very modern in architecture and focus. It concentrated on the 19^{th and} 20^th centuries. Exhibits ranged from media portrayals and images of seafarers to a dreamy video by Peter Greenaway about the loneliness and sexuality of the sea. One of the most interesting and evocative exhibits was a series of ship models of sunken vessels. Ships models usually show the pristine ships as they would have appeared in dry dock. These models depicted a wide variety of ships sunk during war times and enumerated the lives lost with the ship. The hall was darkened and somber as was appropriate to the subject matter. Large pedestal display cases had individual spot lights highlighting the ship models which were shown at odd angles to reveal their method of destruction.

A the end of the corridor of loss was the Greenaway video. Entering a room filled with ships heads and sailor's romantic memorabilia, you passed into a multi-media showcase outfitted with cots for seating. A screen featured interviews with sailors of various ages, races, genders and gender preferences talking about their isolation. The interviews were interspersed with short films of swirling schools of fish and similarly swimming underwater naked men and women. After these strangely meaningful displays I felt the need to clear my head and decided to take a walk around Kronberg castle. How could I go to Elsinore without seeing Hamlet's Castle? While Francis watched ships passing the harbor I wandered towards Sweden.

While best known now as Hamlet's Castle from Shakespeare, Kronberg was of strategic military importance being an outlet to the Baltic Sea and the closest point to Sweden across the Oresund. In town a few interesting street sculptures echo the Hamlet theme and tours of the castle proper are conducted by Horatio, billed as the sole survivor of the play. Walking the ramparts looking towards Sweden, watching hardy Danish sunbathing along the rocky coast and the ferry running between the two countries, I was indeed transported back to prior centuries.

We caught a bus back to the train station, where all the flower stalls had shut down for the evening. Our return train ride was as pleasant as the trip out but we were ready to return to our cozy houseboat. We had one more place to explore in Copenhagen, Christiania.

Christiania was a former military barracks taken over 50 years ago by hippie squatters. After attempts to remove the inhabitants, the city fathers threw up their hands and with typical tolerance let them stay as a "free" city within Copenhagen. Residences in Christiania are still not bought and sold but distributed by a resident council based on need. While Copenhagen overall is immaculate; Christiania is full of graffiti and trash. The particular attraction of the area being that recreational drugs are illegal in Denmark, in Christiania they are sold openly on Dealer Street. On card tables a wide variety of products ranging from loose leaf, to hash buds, to pre-rolled joints are displayed. There is a huge kitch T-shirt and head-shop market as well. Many small stands selling vegan and vegetarian carry-out line this impromptu commercial area. 

 After just a few days in Copenhagen, it was time to repack our possessions for our next destination, Iceland.