I heart Copenhagen

So there were four Canadian girls and a group of Danish Naval officers in a bar in Croatia...

Okay, let's rewind a few years first.  About two years ago, I started cycling.  It was a slow start, rather like the relationship with the person who introduced me to it.  But eventually I managed to move past whining about hills to utter joy at the first push of the pedal.  All the while, I've heard about Copenhagen as the mecca of cyclists - separated bike paths, 55% of commuting done by bike and beautiful girls on equally beautiful cruiser bikes.  However, it is also known as insanely expensive, and I wavered for weeks over the decision.  Two things turned the tide.  1) An invitation to spend a day with my friend Gretchen's adopted Danish family and 2) the aforementioned Danish Naval officers.  While it sounds like the beginning of a particularly salubrious joke, it couldn't be further from the truth.  Over the course of a particularly fun night in Hvar, Mikkel offered to take me around Copenhagen when I arrived.  It was a done deal.

13.5 travel hours from Prague later, I was marching past porn shops in the pouring rain at 11pm en route to my hostel in Copenhagen.  First impressions weren't great, but a good night's sleep and finding a brilliant coffee shop the next morning turned the tide.  Even if it was a $6 latte...

Copenhagen has a curiously Vancouver-like feel, or maybe it's more apt to say it the other way around.  Either way, it felt like home.  The architecture is much more interesting than my hometown's city of glass, but there's a similar exuberance demonstrated in sunshine, coziness in rain and laid-back feel.  It's an ultra-trendy design town, but herein lies the difference: it's hipster-dominated, but lacks the self-conscious pretension associated with it.  My heavily tattooed barista with the cap may have looked surly, but he was relaxed, witty and quick to smile.  And everywhere, everywhere there are bikes.

At 2pm my first afternoon, Mikkel rolled up to my hostel from the other side of town on his gleaming black bike.  We made a quick stop at Baiskeli, a fantastic rental place that donates their bikes to a children's foundation in Africa, and I picked up my best friend/bike for the next 3 days.  The perk of hanging out with a local is that you get to see "their" version of their hometown, not just the typical tourist sights.  Mikkel led me all over the city in the sun, stopping in Christiania, a squatters commune turned thriving alternative community where cameras aren't allowed.  We wandered along canals, stopped for drinks and people watching at Neuhavn, checked out the naval barracks where he first lived and ended up at the lakes.  Even though he was dealing with a brutal cold, Mikkel was the consummate gentleman and host.

The next couple of days found me attached to my bike, rain or shine.  In fact, I went for a phenomenal ride for three hours in the pouring rain on my last full day in the city - exploring the green paths through Vesterbro, Fredericksberg, Norrebro and Osterbro.  Of course, this was the one morning I wore makeup, so looking in a shop mirror at my besmeared panda eyes elicited a shriek, but oh well.  It was a beautiful ride.

There was one other major highlight of my time in Denmark: Gretchen and her host family.  This wonderful group of people included me on their tourist day in Copenhagen and then invited me for night to their gorgeous home just outside of the city.  I was welcomed, royally feasted, made to feel a part of their family and received such warm hugs from their grandmother I felt my own Grandma Braun was present.  They even drove me to the airport for my flight to Berlin the next day.  I don't think words can express what it meant to be so cared for in the absence of my own much-missed family.

Is it any wonder I love Copenhagen?