Our weekend getaway in Copenhagen was all about light. Muted, dazzling, hazy, direct, reflected, distorted, golden and mystical, the influence of light in a scene is endlessly fascinating. It is the transitory passing of light that gives our days their features, their contrast and their variety. A transitory gift from a transient extra-terrestrial ball of fire, isn’t life strange.
In Copenhagen, the low angled glare of a clear dawn swept down lanes of colourful town houses that slowly became obscured by the diaphanous haze of morning. However, as we moved so did the sun. Soon, vast canals of gold were carved diagonally across grey tarmac intersections leaving profoundly featureless shadows on the their banks. A constant flow of cyclists moved in and out of this contrastive scene with ease, their bike lanes unbeholden to the whims of the sun. We spent all day in this sunshine among the Scandinavian masses, all of whom had taken the same approach as Emma to combat the sunny yet freezing weather (simple fashionable clothes in lots of layers). I on the other hand went with the age old tactic of how many ugly fleeces can I layer on top of one another before the sight of me physically repels everyone nearby? As this unlikely fashion duo walked to and from brunch spots and beautiful parks we ended up in all manner of unexpectedly gorgeous settings. Among the copper alloy towers of the Dutch Renaissance, were the intermingled angular modernist buildings of a modern Scandinavia. This unlikely melding of colourful modernism and the stoic solidity of history made for an interesting backdrop to life at street level. Down there where us non-winged creatures are forced to eke out an existence, the Danes have altruistically designed a city for ease, safety and the daily use of the people that live there. This should be seen as a universally good thing to do, a manageable feat for all modern cities. While in reality a serviceable bike lane seems beyond the capabilities of most governments never mind a clean underground system and accessible public amenities.
In this cold and pleasant land, the severe faced and direct, but ultimately friendly Danes of Copenhagen waved away the flamboyancy and expressiveness of many parts of Europe. Instead, Copenhageners? Hagenites? The people of Copenhagen seemed to appreciate quiet conversations with friends and family, often filling the bars and cafes of the city every evening. With the Danish masses shedding woollen outer layers and the hubbub of candlelit conversations filling the rooms with a conversational warmth, we really got an introduction to the Danish/Norwegian idea of hygge. Hygge is a word meaning ‘a mood of cosiness and comfortable conviviality’ and we felt it in these restaurants and bars. They were homely, warm and welcoming, a necessary escape from the biting cold.
As the sun laid its last sweeping touch of iridescent light on the port of Copenhagen, a waterway that bisects the city, we admired the city’s transition to night. A slowly rising darkness banishing the light from each floor of the buildings like a rising tide until the last vestiges of sunlight could only be found atop the highest cranes which themselves finally succumbed to the rushing inevitability of night.
Final Thoughts
Due to Emma booking to join me in Copenhagen at the last minute, this trip had an air of spontaneity to it. We didn’t have any plans and had nowhere to be for a couple of days. We existed purely in the moment, relying on our long legs to ferry us from place to place in the Scandinavian sunshine. With our bank accounts significantly drained from eating and drinking the delights of the city and Emma needing to return to work, our Copenhagen adventure had to end. So, Emma went back home while I prepared my body and soul for a new adventure in the frozen north. Stay tuned for tales from Greenland!
