Copenhagen

After two weeks at a writing residency on the outskirts of a small town in a sunny Danish building that I later (thankfully later) found out was once an asylum (and now haunted) with a high-security prison for dangerous murderers around the corner (which I passed every day on my forest-walk), I went to Copenhagen to meet up with my Canadian friend Amy who was on her way to swing dance camp in Sweden (I have friends who rock-step their way through the world).

We quickly realised that we could not afford this town, so we spent our days walking and window shopping and wisely spent our budget on coffee in the morning and baguette and strawberries for dinner.

Good thing Copenhagen is beautiful, cool, and very easy to navigate on foot (and by that I mean that it’s a walkable city, not that we didn’t get lost every time we tried to get somewhere specific). I fell in love with every café we passed and decorated my imaginary apartment several times over.

We went on a canal tour (our wonderful AirBnB host was a theatre director with a summer job as a tour guide so we got the must-do cruise for free!) and spent the rest of the time gawking at the beautiful people that exist in Copenhagen (shorthand required as follows). Copenhagen is notable for its high density of H.D.s (Hot Dane), H.D.s with B.s (Hot Dane with Baby), P.D.s on B. (Pregnant Dane on Bike), and C.D.s (Cute Dane (reserved for little kids)).

There’s something about Danish design. Every café. Every one. Gorgeous.

Selling peas in pods like fast food in the town square.

Copenhagen’s weather was predictable only in that it was unpredictable.

A little boat tour to see Copenhagen by sea.

Lots of people go look at a little statue of a little mermaid.

It’s a city you immediately feel you could live in were it not for the cost of things and assuming you could cultivate the cool, simple, laid-back attitude, get knocked-up, and acquire a sturdy bicycle and MacBook Air.