I’m sort of slow with these things so stay with me. I’m probably going to change this a lot the more I read it too. More shall come.
I arrived in Copenhagen, after 14+ hours of travelling and barely any sleep through that. I don’t remember picking my plane seat, but I was next to a couple that were called on constantly for about an hour until seating, and they had been there the whole time. These are also the types of people that brought and entire picnic meal onto the plane with them, and started eating it while everyone else was sleeping. Which is super classy when you think about it. I just find the idea of bringing food with you on an international flight or trip to be incredibly stupid, because you likely need to eat it on the plane or you’ll just have it confiscated by whatever customs you’re going through.
Planes are a special place that bring out weird parts of the human experience. I’ll mention this in my part 2 of Copenhagen, but one of the gentlemen I was seated next to on the flight back to Salt Lake asked for two cups of coffee every time drink service came around — which is a lot of fucking coffee for a 10 hour flight. How he did not shit himself, I do not know.
Back to the story at hand and speaking of shitting one’s self — it didn’t help that I made a mistake and ate something that absolutely didn’t agree with my stomach and I spent the entire flight worried that I was going to shit myself. Always one of the best feelings, especially seated next to people. Afraid that the one fart you let pass is going to be your downfall. But like Churchill, I sat strong. Butt cheeks firmly clenched, until I couldn’t take it which was every 30 minutes or so.
Anyways, went through AMS, did the border check-in stuff, and took the flight to Copenhagen which was an astounding 55 minutes. Again, trying not to shit myself. This time it was one of those planes with two sets of three seat rows. I was in the middle seat. The direness in which I was trying to not shit myself was heavy.
Arriving in Copenhagen, the first thing I noticed was that I could breathe. Something you don’t notice too much when you live in the FUCKING MOUNTAINS is that the air sucks. Sorry Utah congressmen, but your ass licking of the pollution companies is awful, and when there is so little oxygen in the first place that we have to breathe more in order to get the same amount of oxygen, it’s no fucking wonder every single child born in the state has asthma with the amount of shit we put into our lungs. Especially in the winter.
Note: two months after I wrote this reports are out about the air quality in Utah being a cause of miscarriages and other problems. Laughing out loud.
With that rant out of the way: after I found a toilet and exchanged currency (Pro-Tip: DON’T), I went on my merry way through the airport and found my way to the trains. One of the interesting things about the København Lufthavn is that it is also the train station. It’s basically a one stop shop for everything travel! Which is cool! In the states, you have to go to a place covered in what is probably feces and chewing tobacco for a ride on a train.
Trains are cool. They are big tubes that roll on little rails. Think of a roll of Pillsbury dough, and throw it against a wall. That’s what a train does, minus the ear-splitting pop and the dough all over the place. Also the flying. Also the crashing. Trains do none of that – usually.
Something that always captures my attention in other countries is the way that architecture looks. Denmark has a very utilitarian, but unique style to them. And this continues on for much of the Nordic. The houses are very square, with clay tiles and very little sticking out or embellishments to them other than the colors.
Oh my god the colors! That is probably one of the major reasons I hate American suburbs. Everything is white, or very near to white. Very “inoffensive” colors. Think of modern UI design by Apple and Google. It’s white. It’s boring. It’s stark. Personality has very little chance of showing itself. That is what the modern US suburb reminds me of, especially the track homes that seem to go up in blocks of 100 every six months around the valley.
In Denmark, the most common colors I saw were red. And not because they were bricks, but they are actually painted red! Colors weren’t afraid to clash, there wasn’t an HOA to come out and scream at you if you painted it something that has more contrast than a piece of wax paper. Honestly, it’s just fun to see personality in buildings, which is a rarity in Salt Lake. A lot of older buildings have it, but unless you own them, I don’t recommend living in any of them. There are a ton of restrictions in place if it is older than your grandmother, and it just becomes more difficult to get things working. Hell, good luck finding an electrician who will install steel conduits on a residential home. Yes, some see it as ugly; but it’s better than trying to upgrade a home with plaster walls.
I just don’t know what it is about the architecture though. The tall buildings that still have sloped roofs? The use of brick? The distinct lack of any sort of vinyl or stucco? It’s all so charming. I love it. It really is sort of irrational in a way. I think I just like cities, and how they are set up a lot of the times. I enjoy the upward expansion of buildings so much more than outward, and each culture has their own unique way of setting them up. I dunno why but it’s definitely one of my favorite parts.
Since I had a few hours to kill, I found a library and sat down
My first place was in a small part of Copenhagen, in Vanløse. It was a red-brick building, which I suppose was a bit on the older side of things. Most places I was at during this trip had a setup of two units per floor, with two stories between each. My host was a slightly older woman, with three daughters who must have been somewhere else, so I got their room. It had as much pink as you’d imagine a kid’s room to have, and string lights everywhere.
Basically perfect for me.
After settling in, I went on to ruin her toilet, and fell asleep for the next 12 hours. I feel horrible about that, and hope it wasn’t rude.