Copenhagen offers hygge old time
Pamela Wade says there are many reasons the Danish capital is a top city, and its architecture is right up there.
‘‘Four hundred.’’ It’s such a predictable question that I didn’t get past the second syllable before the guy behind the ticket desk interrupted with the answer: there are 400 steps up to the distinctive spire of Copenhagen’s Church of Our Saviour in Christianshavn.
They start conventionally in stone, become wooden, turn into a stepladder, then are finally shallow copper risers that circle the outside of the spire, getting narrower and narrower until even a stick figure couldn’t squeeze up any further. Everybody stops well before then anyway: the views demand it.
There are many excellent reasons why Denmark’s capital has just been placed first in Lonely Planet’s annual list of Cities to Visit, and its architecture is one of the foremost.
From the spire it’s all on show: warm terracotta tiles top neat old six-storey apartment buildings painted cream, red and yellow; narrow cobbled streets lead to open squares with fountains and statues; bridges arch over boat-lined canals; angular modern structures of glass and polished granite contrast with ornate heritage buildings — and everywhere there are spires. On churches, naturally, but also as decorative elements such as on the original Stock Exchange, where four dragons’ tails curl up to the point.
One of the city’s oldest buildings, it was constructed in 1625 on the command of King Christian IV who, according to Soren, was brilliant at city planning but rubbish at war.
I met Soren under a statue of the portly king at the start of my Intrepid Urban Adventure, during which he guided me and two other tourists on a three-hour, three-kilometre amble around the streets of his home town.
The theme of the tour was ‘‘Hygge and Happiness’’, Soren interpreting the Danish word as a combination of being present in the moment, simple comfort, security, wellbeing, cosiness and, almost inevitably, candles. Food is, of course, essential to hygge, and there were stops along the way to enjoy delicious pastries, good coffee, and even beer-flavoured organic chocolate truffles, which were truly a taste sensation.
Mostly, though, we listened to stories and explanations, and admired beautiful buildings. We began with Christian IV’s enchanting Nyboder estate of neat terraced houses, built on his orders, for his navy personnel.
Their uniform yellow paint glowed in the June sunshine, set off by roses and hollyhocks around the doors and windows. Stopping, starting and side-tracking, we saw children laughing at a Punch and Judy show in the gardens of Rosenborg Palace, near a statue of Hans Christian Andersen with a blue plastic Frisbee fitted into his hand.
Beyond the park, a woman, seeing us listening to Soren, drew us into an ordinary-looking alleyway that opened out into a charming cobbled square of half-timbered houses with a fountain and a raven statue. Here, she told us proudly, to Soren’s delight as much as ours, was the house where Andersen wrote The Little Match Girl.
We saw grand places too – bridges, squares, Christiansborg Palace – and crossed over Stroget, one of the world’s longest shopping streets and producer of a different sort of hygge. The best bit of the tour, though, was connecting with Copenhagen’s inner self and, through Soren, getting an understanding of why Denmark is officially one of the happiest countries in the world.
Wandering freely afterwards, there was plenty of happiness on display. People dangled their legs along the edge of a canal, as a homemade boat pottered past, its occupants lounging on benches and cradling bottles of beer. The Little Mermaid, despite her two decapitations, still attracted a crowd of admirers. The famously photogenic harbour of Nyhavn was buzzing with visitors and diners, tour boats squeezed under low bridges, the Tivoli Gardens funfair continued its mission, begun in 1843, to delight its dizzy patrons.
In Freetown Christiania, across the harbour, there’s a more laid-back vibe.
A former naval base occupied by hippies in 1971, for years it was an independent community where cannabis was openly available – one of its main roads is named Pusher St.
Now the nearest you’ll get to buying marijuana is the hemp fabric clothes displayed at the street stalls, but a colourfully alternative lifestyle is still pursued with enthusiasm by its 900 inhabitants.
Equally colourful but somewhat more conventional, nearby Reffen is a new focus for foodies. In a former industrial area with a splendid view across the harbour to the city, it’s a collection of more than 50 street food stalls, mostly in converted shipping containers, producing cuisine from all over the world, from Peru to the Philippines, Iceland to India. With art and craft stalls as well as the Mikkeller brewery, it’s an easy place to lose time.
No beer aficionado can go to Copenhagen, though, without making a ritual visit to the home of Carlsberg. A short, free bus ride from the city centre through the sophisticated suburb of Vesterbro, the brewery was founded by
J C Jacobsen in 1847.
Beer, though, has been around much, much longer, and the self-guided tour through the buildings begins at the Bronze Age, with a brew served in a human skull. It has always been a serious business – in the Middle Ages, ‘‘the quality of the beer was crucial to the atmosphere on the farm’’ – and it was no surprise to learn that our friend Christian IV ‘‘had a great affection for beer’’, drinking upwards of 10 litres a day.
The development and processes for handling yeast and hops are studiously explained on the tour; but, apart from knocking back the complimentary glass of lager at the end, the best part for me was riding out through the leafy suburban streets on a Carlsberg dray pulled by Axel and Louisa, a pair of glamorous jutland draught horses.
Clopping along under the trees past pretty tiled, half-timbered houses, chatting with driver Jens about the horses’ luxury lifestyle – the brewery’s seven horses are cared for fulltime by five people – was the epitome of hygge. Copenhagen and happiness: go and you’re guaranteed to find it.
The writer was hosted on her travels.