Copenhagen, Part 2: Nothing is Rotten in the State of Denmark

“Traveling expands the mind rarely”  -Hans Christian Andersen

“My life is a lovely story, happy and full of incident.”  -Hans Christian Andersen

“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”  -Marcellus, Hamlet scene iv 

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It only took one day for me to decide that Copenhagen was my new favorite place in the world and that absolutely nothing was rotten in the state of Denmark as far as I could tell. The second day there only assured me that I was right.

Of course, I didn’t need that assurance, but you get the point.

Since we were there as tourists, we were obligated to make a trip to see The Little Mermaid statue at the harbor at Langelinie. No, this was not Disney shit – what I’m talking about here is a statue based on the original Hans Christian Andersen story.

First, we had to make a trip near the Royal Theater opera house to catch the boat that would take us to the statue. Olivier and I were getting our asses kicked by the wind.

After a brief incident involving a map being swept away by the strong winds and Olivier chasing it several yards across a grassy hill, we arrived at the harbor where the boat would pick us up.

Eager to begin the trip across the water to the statue, we didn’t hesitate to jump aboard the boat with the other passengers. No, sir… we didn’t even stop to make sure that it was going the right way. Well actually, we did ask about it… after the boat had pulled away from the dock.

Whoops.

The good news was that it would eventually take us to the statue. The bad news was that it would take a lot longer and that we were jackasses.

Once we got to the location of the statue, I admit that we were both a bit… well, underwhelmed. In case you have ever wondered about it, the Little Mermaid statue is indeed quite little.

So, we just continued to do what every good tourist does – we snapped countless pictures of this tiny thing so that we could prove to all of you that we saw it.

One thing should be said, however. While the statue was rather wee, there is still something pretty cool about all of this for Hans. I mean, for a writer, what is cooler than getting a posthumous statue based one of your stories? The answer: not much. No shit, I’d be thrilled with one half that size. In fact, if you can cobble something together out of popsicle sticks while I’m still alive, I’ll take that.

We spent the rest of the afternoon ambling about and running amok throughout the city. We checked out a couple of the city’s parks, which were not crappy at all.

Of course, we also spent some time checking out different buildings around town, noting the Baroque architecture and Danish designs that were exotic to both of us. As we glanced and gawked, we also happened to take note here and there of some of the more interesting signage:

All of this, as I’m sure you can imagine, was just too much excitement for both of us. We headed back to our room to crack open a can of cassoulet that we had brought with us from France. Then we passed out for the night so that we would be ready for the day ahead of us, which would be our last day in Copenhagen.

On our way out of town the following morning, we stopped by another Danish bakery for breakfast. I ordered a cinnamon pastry approximately the same size as my torso, which, in spite of it’s deliciousness, gave me an inexplicable expression of disgust and the tiny arms of a T-Rex.

Yeah, so… that was weird.

Right, then – moving on. Before heading out of Denmark, we made a stop at Kronborg Castle, which you’ve heard of, though it’s possible that you haven’t realized it. Kronborg Castle is located near the town of Helsingør, though you’re likely to know at as Elsinore, which of course, is where Hamlet takes place.

Not familiar with Shakespeare? Go rent the fucking DVD. Then smack yourself in the face. Hard.

Once we had perused all there was for perusal inside the castle, we headed away from Helsingør to catch a ferry boat over to Sweden.

The ferry moves pretty fast, so we had time to grab a quick cup of coffee, but didn’t have much time to actually fucking drink it before rushing back to the car.

Sitting in the car, I tried blowing on my steaming hot coffee as we made the drive to a campground in Malmö, Sweden for one night of ridiculous camping and jackassery.