Denmark

(1) The morning scenery outside the train on my way to Copenhagen was absolutely stunning. The city, itself, wasn't quite as impressive. This isn't to suggest that it was ugly - it wasn't. I think, for whatever reason, I was just sort of expecting to step out of the station and find myself in a place that resembled Dartmouth's campus. I really don't know where I got that idea, but it sort of set me up for disappointment. When I exchanged some money and learned that the US dollar was terribly weak to the Kroner, I was even more soured on Denmark. Never mind that the people were incredibly friendly, and never mind that the the women were among the most beautiful I have ever seen, I was more concerned about what I paid for a lousy hot dog on the sidewalk.

(2) I checked into the Sleep in Heaven hostel, paying about $17 dollars for a dorm room. Dorm nothing. This was an army barrack. There had to have been about 90 beds in this giant bunker. Beyond the lobby, it was a total dump - cold and dark. I began to think that the name Sleep in Heaven was a reference to, not my actual accomodation, but, rather, where I'd end up if I happened to simply cut myself in this hell hole. It was no surprise that this was the only place on my Europe trip where I was bitten by bed bugs. I should've known better. You can easily find their funky, flash-happy website on the internet, but you won't find any photos. Anyway, I ended up snagging one of the free public bicycles, and rode it all over the city. I got lost a few times, but that was (and always is) fine by me - it allowed me to really see the neighborhoods. Copenhagen, I can report, isn't such a bad place. It's quite nice, actually... which is more than I can say for the wheels of my public bicycle.

(3) I had been told that one of the city's hidden gems was the small, hippie commune known as Christiania (est. 1971). Inside this autonimous zone, where no photos are allowed, one could find what seemed to be a completely harmoneous groove of about 1,000 inhabitants (including 250 children). Of course, despite whatever noble reason for which this place managed to exist, it was widely known (and sought out) for drugs. Just walking up and down the streets, hash could be found out in the open, cut into small, dark squares. The city of Copenhagen had been less than pleased with Christiania, and hoped to eventually shut it down for good. This lead the inhabitants to post security guards at the enterences. With walkie-talkies in hand, and photos of known undercover police officers posted by the gates, these guards were the first line of defense when it came to keeping things afloat. That was Christiania. Ah, but why the past tense? I really cannot say with any certainty whether or not Christiania still exists. Some say it does. Others say it's gone. I'm guessing that it's still there in some form, but I can only explain it as it was when I was there.

(4) Sadly, this is Copenhagen's main tourist attraction. The statue of Hans Christian Andersen's Little Mermaid is something I decided not to visit. Instead, I spent the rest of my one day in Denmark tooling around on the bicycle, finally leaving it along the sidewalk for the next guy. With not much else to see or do, and really just wanting to head down to Berlin, I decided to get out Denmark the very next day. However, as a parting note, I would ask that readers not judge this city or this country based on what I have written. The people really were fantastic, and the city did have charm. It just wasn't what this budgeted backpacker was looking for at the time. This is a perfect example as to why I enjoy traveling alone. When something doesn't feel right - move on! (photo: www.friendlyplanet.com)

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