I’d just like to let you all know that I am currently enjoying the dinner of champions: a classic chokolademælk! and what the Danes must consider to be a club sandwich (chunks of chicken and salami (bologne?), lettuce, and a colorful array of roasted peppers slathered with a sweet, tikka-tasting mustard). Mmm mm good.
The Danes, and I’m pretty sure the rest of Scandinavia, are design-a-holics. The Danish know how to design a museum. They just…get it, from the streamlined lobbies to rooms separated by swishing automatic doors to pops of color in their adorable lower level cafés to ALLOWING photography as long as you behave yourself. And the symmetry. Oh, the symmetry! And not just in museums, mind you. Everywhere. Observe:
My arrival at Københavns Lufthavn.
My visit to Nationalmuseet yesterday (Ny Vestergade 10; www.natmus.dk). Why was this, of all things, my first sight? Free admission, of course!
The lobbies are always pristine white visions of stunning functionality.
The corridor leading from the new Danish prehistory. (Vikings, rune stones, bog sacrifice artifacts, longswords, etc.)
…and the modern.
Today began, again, with fog and rain, and made holding your umbrella a near fight for survival against the battering wind. I sought refuge in Statens Museum for Kunst (Sølvgade 48-50; www.smk.dk; free admission for students and under-25s), the Danish National Gallery.
(“But Lindsey, there is sun in this picture!” Yes. I snapped this one post-visit.)
“Skulpturgaden,” separating the Old Building from the New Building.
Museum café, from above.
Then, lo, a cloudy, misty morning turned into a windy but gorgeous sunny afternoon. In a very movie-like scene where I was admiring a Rubens in the Statens Museum for Kunst, a stream of sun rays unexpectedly engulfed me from a well-placed window. I ran towards the exit, afraid to miss it.
When in a city where biking is the only true form of mobility and you are without a bike, sunshine is your best friend. It has this powerful way of transforming a miserable whirlwind of foreign tongues, strange currencies, and maze-like neighborhoods into the picturesque landscape of your dreams. Copenhagen is every bit the postcard, the picture book, and the land of fairytales.