Scandinavia in January – Brilliant Idea
I got to the Toronto airport, ready to begin leg number two of my whirlwind trip around the world and excited to finally be heading overseas. That’s when I hit my first snag. I learned that, apparently, Delta is my enabler – my enabler of over-packing. When I left Atlanta, they had let me on with two bags weighing well over ten pounds too much but, because of my Gold status, they must have turned a blind eye. Like with most enablers, this only helps in the short-term. So when I arrived at the Toronto airport for my flight to Copenhagen, I had to purchase an extra bag to spread out the weight.
Fun Fact Time: Icelandair charges $150 for a heavy bag fee and $160 to check a giant dog crate. So my extra ten pounds only costs $10 less than a hundred-pound dog crate. I just thought that was interesting and worth noting.
After a late departure out of Toronto and a very quick transition in Reykjavik, Iceland, I landed in Copenhagen. I arrived mid-morning and although my heart wanted to explore, I had only slept a couple hours on the trip over and my body needed sleep. I took a cab to my hotel, Wake-Up Copenhagen, and of course arrived too early to check-in. My room wouldn’t be ready for another three or four hours. Not surprising, there was a room (a more expensive one) available. Now, there are a few things in life that convince me to spurge – a massage after a week or so of long, hard workouts – an amazing sale on designer shoes – and my need to sleep. I upgraded. I have zero regrets.
After one of those amazing naps where I felt a little guilty for having slept the day away but was totally okay with it as well, I woke up to the early setting Scandinavian sun. I had to get out and see at least some of Copenhagen that day, so I got dressed explored my neighborhood. It was a Friday night, around 8 PM, so I figured the streets would be packed. I was surprised to see there was very little activity. I walked around a bit, getting a little lost a couple times but eventually finding my bearings and decided on a little restaurant called Bar Central.
I set up my computer and worked while enjoying a nice relaxed dinner. That’s when I learned that Copenhagen does indeed have a lively weekend nightlife, it just starts much later that at home. It was probably around 10 or 11 when I really noticed the place getting busy. I was not going to experience the Scandinavian nightlife with my normal “I need to be in sweatpants by midnight” perspective.
Around 11:30 or 12:00, I felt it was time to turn-in. This was when I, unknowingly, learned something else about Copenhagen…or maybe Denmark in general, I don’t know. I had already noticed that my waiter wasn’t very attentive. I had to flag him down multiple times any time I needed anything. But once all my food had arrived he virtually disappeared. I’m not exaggerating by saying that I sat for an hour just looking for him so I could get my check, eyeing him down and evening waving every time he walked by only to be ignored. Finally, I see him coming out from the back of the restaurant, in street clothes, joining some friends at the bar. This time I flagged him down obnoxiously and he couldn’t ignore me. I asked for my check nicely and he looked annoyed, like I was bothering him when he was with his friends. I was already irritated at this point but I was putting on my best, “nice American lady” face and just waited. A few minutes later he brought me the check. It was TOTALLY WRONG. He charged me for a bottle of wine instead of a glass and there were some other discrepancies as well. At this point, I knew there was no hope of him fixing it so I talked to the bartender. He adjusted it rather quickly, I paid and headed back to my hotel.
Because I had a rather small dinner, and had sat for quite some time, I decided to get a snack on the way back. (You may realize I will talk a lot about food and have quite a hearty appetite. I work out, almost solely, to allow for this.) In 2014 I spent a week in Iceland and learned they have some of the best hot dogs in the world. I guess that’s a Scandinavian thing because street food hot dogs are big in Denmark as well and, fortunately, there was a stand right outside my hotel. I’m not usually a big hot dog eater but the ones I had in Iceland were delicious – and I had heard that Copenhagen’s were similar. I was not disappointed.
Tip Time: If you go to Copenhagen, eat your weight in street hot dogs. I promise you will not be disappointed.
I headed back to my hotel I did some research, learning that what I experienced at the restaurant was most likely par for the course in the country. Service staff is paid fairly well in Denmark and, unlike in the states, they don’t rely on tips. Therefore, they don’t pay too much attention to the quality of service. As someone who waited tables for nearly a decade, bad service is a huge pet peeve of mine. But I also understand how different country’s standards are different because of pay. I figured, it is what it is, and at least I now knew what to expect from that point on.
The next morning, I woke up and decided to explore on foot. My first mission was to find The Little Mermaid Statue. Hans Christian Andersen, who wrote the original story of “The Little Mermaid”, was from Odense, right outside of Denmark. Carl Jacobsen, son of the founder of Carlseberg, was fascinated by the opera and had the statue commissioned. It was unveiled in 1913 and placed on a rock in the Øresund straight.
Luckily, it was only a couple miles walk from my hotel, so I put it in my GPS and ventured out. Once again I realized, as I did in Toronto, that I make bad decisions. Seriously, Kasi. Canada and Scandinavia…in January! I just kept telling myself that I was only a few days away from being south of the equator!
Believe it or not, I actually found the statue without getting lost! I was starting to impress myself! (I’m generally not the best with directions.)
It’s kind of like seeing the Mona Lisa. If you’re there, you have to see it. But you get there and realize it’s much smaller and less grand than expected and you have to navigate around other tourists to try to get a decent picture. I waited my turn, got my pictures and headed on my way. I wanted to get inside, and quick, to warm up a little.
I stopped for a quick coffee and to decide where to go next. Looking at my “Copenhagen To-Do List”, I googled Tivoli Gardens – the second oldest amusement park in the world – and saw that it was open till 11 and less than an hour’s walk away.
After getting warm, I layered up again and started on my way. It was actually quite a nice walk, despite the temperatures. It took me along the banks of the river, walking by the canals of Copenhagen, all lit up at night. I enjoyed the walk, the scenery and the peace of those moments. I just took in the city and relished breathing in the fresh, Northern air.
Less than an hour later, I arrived at Tivoli Gardens. It was closed till April. Thanks Google.
Oh well, when traveling for two months, not everything is going to go my way. I looked on the bright side. I saw more of the city. I found my way, by foot, to where I was going and didn’t have to flag down a cab for a rescue.
I grabbed a quick snack and decided to try to walk back to the hotel. There was actually a quicker way than the way I had taken and I was determined to get there on my own. Less than thirty minutes later, I was back at my hotel.
It wasn’t too late so I freshened up and explored my neighborhood in a different direction than I had the previous night. I had heard about an area of town, Nyhavn, that is the famous “tourist shot” of Copenhagen – a pier with dozens of boats, colorful buildings and lined with great restaurants and bars. I had no idea it was just a couple blocks from my hotel and fell upon it accidentally.
I was lured into a small place by some live music (“Hotel California”, I believe), ordered a cider, sat down and relaxed. Not only was the singer/guitar player amazing and playing some of my favorite songs but the crowd and the overall vibe just made me happy. Sitting there, listening to him play Tom Petty’s “Free Falling”, stands out to me as the moment I fully realized this whole thing was happening. It was one of those simple, wonderful moments where you just take in the world. Hearing the crowd sing-along, watching couples get up and dance to the familiar tunes – I was overwhelmed with gratefulness.
I stayed for a while, enjoying the atmosphere and then decided to head back. I dozed off that night feeling proud of myself for my successful navigation of the city and completely content knowing that I had two months of nights like that ahead of me.
My plan for the next day was to walk to Christianshavn – it’s an area of town known for its hippy vibe – and includes Freetown Christiana, a partially self-governing neighborhood which has established “legal” status as an independent community. It’s a city within a city, unlike anything else in the world.
In Christianshavn is one of Denmark’s most famous landmarks, The Church of Our Savior, known by its spiral steeple. I started that way and, once again, shocking even to myself, found it easily. I was excited to climb the spiral staircase and get a birds-eye view of the city and its canals. However, just like Tivoli Gardens, it was closed.
Tip Time: Denmark is a beautiful city but I’d recommend going in the summer. A lot of things are closed in the winter and, well, it’s freaking freezing.
After exploring the chapel, I realized I hadn’t eaten anything that day and I was starving. I quickly found a burger place which sounded perfect. Then I read the menu. They had an eating challenge…claiming they had Copenhagen’s spiciest burger.
Game on.
Now, there are two things you need to know about me.
A – I am a freak of nature. It’s possible that I was born with no spicy taste buds. A lot of people claim this but I promise you, I’m not exaggerating. I have shocked many’a chefs who have come out of the kitchen to meet the crazy girl that can take down their spiciest dishes. I’ve competed in various spicy eating challenges, all over the world. I have never been beat. In fact, it’s on my bucket list to find a buffalo wing too spicy for me to eat just one.
B – I’m ultra-competitive. Like seriously, I have a problem. My family refuses to have game nights with me – something about me not letting my nieces and nephews win. Come on! They have to learn how to lose or else they’ll grow into those people who expect participation trophies. I will not help create more of those people.
Anyway, so I’m a freak of nature with spicy foods and I’m a competitive a-hole. Put these two things together and I tend to do stupid things – like sign my life away agreeing to eat Copenhagen’s spiciest burger. Because really, I haven’t been beat in a spicy challenge yet – not at Wing Fest in Buffalo, not in Malaysia (despite the valiant efforts of a really nice waiter in Penang’s Little India), not in Thailand – I’m sure as crap not going to be conquered in Denmark.
Okay there are actually three things you need to know about me.
C – I can be a little overconfident.
The rules of the challenge were that I had to eat the whole burger with no drinks, fries or dips, nothing that could possibly numb the pain. After finishing the burger, I had to wait 15 minutes before taking a drink.
Easy. Done. I was about to be the first woman on their wall.
Two bites in, I almost cried.
But I’m competitive, remember. I don’t admit defeat easily. I was hungry. And I make bad decisions. So I kept going.
The fact that I had to wait about 15 minutes between bites was the first clue I might have been in over my head. The second was the horrendous cramping in my stomach. What was frustrating me the most was that it wasn’t the actual spice. My mouth and taste buds, while definitely affected by the heat, could have kept on. But my stomach. My poor, poor stomach. The only way to describe it is the scene from Alien. I was pretty sure some hellfire burger alien was about to burst out of my gut at any moment.
I fought a brave and noble battle. In fact, I probably fought too long. But finally, when I was about half-way done and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry, I realized the overwhelming pain the other half of the burger would cause was not worth the possibility of having my picture on a wall in Copenhagen.
I surrendered. The mighty Kasi had fallen.
At that moment, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. Like the champion nights of Camelot, I had waited years for a mighty warrior to best me so I could give up my quest. It had finally happened and in the least likely of places.
Demark – 1 / Kasi – 0.
My quest is over.
Just kidding. I’m going to dominate the next challenge I come across and totally redeem myself.
After downing a milkshake and about 3 glasses of water, I headed back to my hotel. Quickly. I needed to be in the privacy of my hotel room (and bathroom) for the next few hours. I did not feel good. Fortunately, I made it back before the alien emerged from stomach.
I’ll skip the details of the next couple hours. Let’s just say I was worn out and it ended in a nap.
Waking up a couple hours later, I decided to head out near my hotel and grab a small dinner. Small being the key word. The alien parasite was still fighting a winning battle in my gut. I went to a little wok place and had some very bland chicken and veggies, the only thing I could imagine digesting at the moment and got to work on my website.
Not much time had passed when I felt the pain again. I mean, bad. Worse than before. Again, I’ll save you the details. But two or three times I was close to having what easily would have been my most embarrassing moment – and worst travel moment – ever. There were a couple very close calls.
One positive thing happened that night. As I was working, a group of girls sat down next to me. They seemed, by their accents, to be a mix of American’s living in Denmark and Europeans and they were speaking English, allowing me to eavesdrop. I’m not a creeper, I promise. They were just a little loud so it was hard not to listen in a bit.
The reason I describe this as a positive event is that it was refreshing to see a group of young women who reminded me so much of me and my girls back home. It made me sad and it made me miss my lovely friends but it made also me happy, and reminded me that no matter what continent they are on or what country they live in, girlfriends are the same. They’re silly and equal parts loving, supporting and sarcastic. They get quiet and whisper when the conversation turns to men and they lovingly laugh with and at their friends’ funny stories. Girlfriend-ships are one of the greatest blessings in my life. It always saddens me when I talk to women who say they just don’t have girlfriends. Those ladies that night will never know it, but their fun night out put a good spin on an otherwise “painful” day for this eaves-dropping American stranger.
After a couple hours of this I needed to be in my hotel room again. I packed up my stuff and ran. Literally. Luckily I was only a few doors down and was soon safely in the privacy of my room.
The next day, instead of exploring the city more, I opted to hop over to the small town of Malmö, Sweden. I had read about Malmö over the years when researching cities that are good to travel to alone, especially for women travers. In fact, it came up on every list I had ever found on the subject. When I learned it was just a quick train ride from Copenhagen I knew I had to make a day trip. Besides, I’d get to add another country to the trip list.
The trip was a fairly easy process. On the way to Sweden I had to stop at the Copenhagen airport to go through passport control, making the whole trip about 45 minutes. This isn’t required on the return trip, shaving off nearly fifteen minutes. If in Copenhagen for more than a few days, I highly recommend making the trip.
Not only was the trip there and back quick and easy, Malmö is now on the list of my favorite cities. I stayed pretty close to the train station to avoid getting lost. I spent most of the day just wondering the streets, people watching, taking pictures and enjoying the Scandinavian city, still decorated for Christmas with the charms of the North Pole. I can see why people recommend Malmö. It’s safe, easy to navigate and just an overall delightful city.
After exploring a while, I did what I do almost every night when I travel alone – sat at a restaurant to write and just enjoy being somewhere new.
I also got to try another local delicacy – my first since the Poutine in Toronto – Reindeer! I felt mildly guilty, seeing as it had barely been two weeks since Christmas, but my guilt was gone the moment I took my first bite. Really, it’s not too surprising that it tasted like good old American venison. I mean, it is a deer after all. It was one of the tastiest and most tender steaks I’ve had in a long time. It’s probably third on my list of favorite meat I’ve had while traveling – after Alpaca (in Peru) and Kangaroo (in Australia). Sorry, Rudolph…but you’re kind of yummy.
After eating and being a tiny bit productive on the blog, it was time to hop the train back to my home in Copenhagen. Within an hour, I was back and comfortably in my sweat pants – well before my midnight deadline.
The next day was my last fully day in Denmark. There were a couple places I had hoped to visit, like Kornborg Castle – the inspiration for Elsinore Castle, in Hamlet – but it would have been a day trip out of town. The literature nerd in me was disappointed in myself for missing such an important Shakespeare landmark (and Hamlet has always been my favorite of his plays) but the efficient part of me knew I needed to get some things taken care of before leaving for Africa.
Number one on that list of things…go through my stuff and figure out what I could send home. I didn’t want to deal with the heavy bag issue for the next two months and I had barely enough room to bring home any gifts or souvenirs for myself. So I laid out everything I had and just stared at it for a while, similar to how I had packed in the first place. This time, I went through and packed up nearly half of everything – half of my t-shirts, half of my pants, half of my long sleeves, half of my shoes. After I packed it up I actually feared I had not left myself with enough. But like so many other situations while traveling, I asked myself, “What’s the worst that could happen?”. I have to do sink laundry more often or I wear dirty clothes. Either option was better than lugging around my inappropriately heavy bag for the next eight weeks.
$175 later, half of my possessions were on the way home.
That night I met up with a friend of a friend for coffee. My best friend, Sarah, had a friend living in Copenhagen and she had put us in contact. It was great to meet a fellow American and just connect with another human. She also took me to an area of town I hadn’t been yet – a great little open air market that we explored while we chatted.
After that, I turned in early. I had one thing on my to-do list for the next morning before I had to go to the airport. I had to get my second tattoo.
I had seen two tattoo shops down the street from my hotel so I figured I could easily get into one of them. Of course…they were both closed on Wednesdays. Why Wednesdays? I’ll never know. I googled another one nearby and walked that way. It did not exist. At that point, I cut my losses and realized I’d just have to get three tattoos in Asia (for Europe, Africa and Asia). I sat down with my book for one last meal in my favorite area of town, Nyhavn and then headed to the hotel to grab my things and get a cab for the airport.
I couldn’t believe I was already through my first two stops on this journey. Two continents down, five to go. I was more than ready to leave the cold climates behind and I was excited to return to Africa, my favorite continent. I don’t know if it’s the place, the people or the experiences that I’ve had there (or a mix of the three) but there are pieces of my heart scattered all over Africa. There’s just something about the continent that brings my soul peace. It wasn’t just the idea of being in Africa again (and finally being in a warm climate) that made me excited. I was about to do something I had dreamed about for years – climb one of the seven summits (the highest peaks on each continent). I was going there to climb Kilimanjaro.
More to read
- I’d Bless the Rains Down in Africa
- Why I’m Quitting My Dream Job
- Why Blog? Why Now? WHY GOD, WHY!?!?
- Flashbacks to ‘Nam