Do you want to go to Denmark?
Come on, let's fly away!
Weāll eat up all the smok-ed fish!
Get lit on akvavit!
What do you say?1
SAS has exactly one daily non-stop flight from Chicago to Copenhagen.
It departs from Terminal 5. Itās not my usual terminal (that would be 3, because I prefer to fly American), nor is it my favorite (do I even have a favorite terminal at OāHare?). It always feels a little chaotic, a little grubbier in there. Like old Midway, or most of LaGuardia.
My wait in the line at security lasted about 15 minutes., This was sufficient time for me to be annoyed by the other passengers who were visibly and audibly annoyed that there was no special lane/treatment for those of us with Global Entry or Clear. I have both because I am bougie. Iām sure those aviation geeks among you have already figured out that terminal 3 doesnāt have Clear either.
Anyway.
Next to the line of passengers waiting to go through security was a luggage scan area dedicated large or unusual pieces. It had a few visitors. One of those visitors was a man of medium build and height who held in his arms a new in the box combination printer/scanner/fax machine.
He had no other bags on him. He carried it like it was a bag of laundry fresh from the laundromat. Like it was a large golden retriever that decided it was no longer interested in walking under its own power.
I texted Jacinda about the man and his office equipment, and she replied āThey might not have those in Europe.ā
The SAS lounge was not open, so Jacinda and I bought overpriced sandwiches at the Hudson News to eat at the gate. Boarding started early, and went quickly because there were not a lot of passengers. Even so, I think we ended up departing late.2
Despite the fact that I had already wolfed down a large overpriced sandwich before boarding, I ate the dinner served once we got up in the air. Jacinda and I were in Premium Economy, so the meal was served on proper dishes and there was free alcohol.
I know regular Economy also gets free booze (hello international flight on overseas carrier) but I thought it was special.
There were little footrests for our feet, and the bedding consisted of pillows and small down comforters. No itchy blankets for us. I felt like was curling up on, say, a friendās pull-out couch and not an airplane.
Will wonders never cease? I mean, I was tucked up into a plane hurtling through the night sky, being fed healthy snacks by a bunch of attractive Scandinavian people. Sitting next to me was my snoring best friend. We were on our way to the happiest country on Earth. So no, I suppose they wonāt.
We were greeted not by Danny Kaye singing āBeautiful beautiful Copenhagenā but by border security agents who gave our vaccination cards a quick glance, stamped our passports, then sent us on our way.
One of us ā I wontāt say who but her name rhymes with BACINDA ā checked a bag so we went to baggage claim to wait. The baggage handlers at CPH had brought their wildcat strike to an end the day before, so we were surrounded by piles of bags and crates and boxes that hadnāt yet been picked up. All the bags holding skis were laid out in front of the one ATM, and two over-sized crates held dogs (LIVE DOGS) waiting for their humans to rescue them.
Iām always happy to take a taxi from the airport but the metro system in Copenhagen is clean and not expensive, and it was already there so Jacinda and I got on. Most people didnāt wear masks, which felt weird but also good. Most folks were quiet, which was welcome.
Kongens Nytorv (the Metro station) is large and modern and does not smell like urine or tobacco. Unlike the subway at home (sorry, CTA). But because it was large, there were multiple, maybe too many, choices to exit the station.
Did I want to exit right into a fancy department store, or in front of the opera house? I just didnāt want to emerge 50 feet farther from where I wanted to be, which was the hotel. I didnāt feel overly tired, but I definitely wanted to āfreshen upā (whatever that means, but White people on tv say this all the time)3 and for sure change my underpants which was very necessary after stewing in my own juices on 8 hour flight and you know what, I think I know what āfreshen upā means now.
Our hotel was a walk across Kongens Nytorv (the square after which the Metro station is named), and then at the end of this very famous waterfront street that is the first result in a Google image search for āCopenhagenā.
The last time I was in Copenhagen (which was also the first time I was in Copenhagen), I stayed in a nice AirBNB in a more commercial neighborhood. There was a 7-11 on the corner, and many boutiques selling expensive tiny clothes, expensive tiny dishes, or expensive tiny clothes and expensive tiny dishes.
Could staying in a hotel on Nyhavn, with the boats and the water and the multiple restaurants with the word āmermaidā in their name, be a more Danish experience than a rehabbed three bedroom? Were Jacinda and I were going to have the most Copenhagen of trips to Copenhagen of our actual entire lives?
The hotel had free wi-fi, and a free buffet breakfast for guests that I would actually have paid money for was I not already staying there. Our room had two single beds that were pushed together but it would have been awkward to separate them. Also we were too lazy to do that. There were wooden beams on the ceiling, and one of them came down at an angle over the side of the side of the bed that Jacinda generously took. Did I spend part of our time in Copenhagen worrying that Jacinda would suddenly sit upright in the middle of the night and smack her head on this beam? Maybe so.
We freshened up, got our bearings, and went out for a walk. Just in time for it to start raining. And the wind was blowing. And it got dark very quickly, but that is northern Europe for you. After a few false turns (itās in the back of an old candy factory that is now a very nice looking apartment building), we arrived at SĆømods Bolcher. On-line I swear this place looks like it was bigger but it was just a small room with an L-shaped counter attended by two young people who offered tastes of a few flavors of licorice.
I had this idea in my head that Scandinavians only bought candy on Fridays but on a rainy Thursday afternoon there were a few other customers. Iām always quicker to do my business, probably because I only ever buy shit for me and Jacinda buys stuff for her family. I bought my candy and went to stand in the back courtyard, which was home also to a patio furniture set and a tall dude in a coat who smoked in the light rain.
We found StrĆøget, and followed it back to Nyhavn. I like that this shopping district itās car-free, yet there was still the danger of getting run over by someone on a bicycle. There were plenty of old buildings housing independent boutiques as well as budget grocery stores.
I had this idea that our first night dinner would be at some cute place that I had already scouted out secretly on Goop.com (secretly because, well, Goop). It would specialize in smĆørrebrĆød and serve organic gluten free cider, and be located next to a cool bar full of young Danish people who, at the end of an evening discussing Kirkegard and Kylie Minogue, would give Jacinda and I rides back in their cargo bicycles.
Instead, we ate at one of the touristy places on Nyhavn4 and it was fine. More than fine. It was actually good, and the room was cute and full of people who on a dreary night wanted nothing more than what they had. Fish. Beer. Wine. Art and antiques everywhere, even on the ceiling. I had this sort of traditional hash dish with potatoes and egg and beets (WHAT) that was just the right thing. I ordered a coke, which Jacinda kept referring to as my nine dollar coke.
Best nine dollar coke of my life.
Next time: We went to frigginā Noma! Louisiana! Hot tubs and hugs!5 Also there will be notes on luggage, packing cubes, capsule travel wardrobe picks for you folks who like that sort of thing.
links
a review of the SAS lounge at CPH [OMAAT]
the fancy department store in Kongens Nytorv [Magasin du Nord]
Lƶrdagsgodis in Sweden because while you can buy the candy any old day of the week you can only really eat it on Saturday? [Real Simple]
may your Danish sandwich be topless [Saveur]
i used to have a fat fashion tumblr (ha ha I KNOW shuddup) and i wrote this post that i am still unreasonably proud of [the fategist ā lists, layers, layovers: what to pack and how to pack it]
I know itās not Norway but I had to, had to, make a reference to Frozen and this classic song of sisterhood and snowmanhood.
I just looked it up on Flight Aware and we actually left eleven minutes early.
I have never in my life heard anyone say this out loud. Which is not to say it doesnāt happen but Iām used to hearing people just say they need to go to the bathroom. Like āIām gonna hit the headā or āI need to peeā. I wish people would make it weird sometimes and say āIām not gonna poopā as an alternative to saying they need to pee.
Though how touristy is this place considering they donāt even have an English language version of their web site? Iām coming back when itās not rainy and windy outside so I can sit outside on their massive patio.
I swear I wonāt write a post for every day we were there. I didnāt even think Iād spend this many words just on the first day.
Itās true that I am slow and I snore. But I also pack away things people say, so the next time Iāll know to, for example, say āI need to freshen upā upon our arrival just for your amusement.