And that’s when David Byrne sings, “I’m tired of traveling / I want to be somewhere.”
On Tuesday, I made a comment to my PR guide/liaison/contact that it’s a pity I won’t actually get to see Copenhagen during this trip, as I’d be getting in around 7pm on Wednesday night, and departing 7am Thursday morning.
I discovered that different cultures have different ideas of polite conversation. My idle musings were translated as, “Make it so!” and, on Wednesday morning, I was told that my trip had been rescheduled, and that I’ll now depart Copenhagen on Saturday morning, so I have Thursday and Friday to spend here.
On the downside, I didn’t pick up a guidebook for Copenhagen, so I’ve been meandering around without a map all day. As a result, I don’t know the context of most of the buildings and sights that I’ve photographed (see links below).
In fact, I’m finding this city very weird. I’m trying to figure out how much of the weirdness is a result of my not knowing anything about it, and how much is intrinsic. What I mean is, the city (as I’ve wandered through it) doesn’t resonate with me. It has plenty of “old world charm” and architecture, but there doesn’t seem to be any aspect that jumps out and sez, “This is Copenhagen, bitch!” Stockholm at least had all sorts of neat design-touches, sorta evoking the future even when surrounded by the aforementioned “old world charm.” But Copenhagen, at least, this part of it, is very much about the fancy retail shops.
With Budapest, there was the tension between the old buildings and the ugly-ass Communist-era stuff, as well as that overwhelming weight of history. Here, it’s more about the human culture (not the static aspects of the cityscape), the fashion, the beautiful women (the guys make me feel pretty inadequate, by the way), the ubiquity of bicycles, the everyday mysteries of people walking down the street. I guess the problem is that I’m here on my own, and English-speaking tourists aren’t as much a rarity as they were in Budapest. With no opportunity to talk this strangeness out with anyone, I’m left with you, dear reader.
If I was a different man, I guess I’d be scoping out the club scene, or sitting outside in a bar/café, getting schnookered and starting conversations with people, in my broad American accent. Instead, I have some virtual memories: girls bicycling in 3-inch heels; black birds with white wingtips; Swedes saying, “Hey!” to greet each other on the phone; a teenager with a “Kurdistan national soccer team” T-shirt; echoes of church-bells; tamper-seals on the bottled drinks not breaking off, the way they do in America, but remaining partly attached to the cap; a kiosk with stacks of Belgian waffles; the thin power-lines strung overhead, streetlights suspended from them. There are a million more of these, of course, but there’s never enough time to write them all down.
Shwarma Police
One more thing: Any idea why there are so many kebab places in Europe? I’ve seen a ton of them in both cities, and my hotel room in Paris (Oct. 2002) was on a street (Rue De La Harpe) which included seventeen kebab joints! I know there are a lot of mid-eastern and Turkish immigrants, but it’s pretty weird, I have to say. And I wanted to use the pun in the header above . . .
Other Stuff
I’m sorta glad that, between this trip and July’s vacation in Budapest, I’ll manage to miss both parties’ political conventions. However, I’m still keeping in touch with the news at home, and this item scares me shitless.
This column in WSJ Europe about the Islamic Arab world’s inaction at the atrocities in Darfur is pretty good. I’m convinced the writer’s using a pen name (Leon de Winter? That’s almost as good as Norm D. Plume), but he makes some good observations about the compulsive need to scapegoat in absolutely cosmic ways.
Cope Dip
Here are some pix:
People sitting at a fountain.
I wish I’d picked up a guidebook. This square’s a nice meeting place, it seems.
Contrary to their jerseys, these people are not Brazilian. I have no idea what they were doing. Earlier, I saw a bunch of other people in a circle, singing some rousing thing in French. It’s not World Cup time, so this is completely flummoxing me.
Some pictures are better left captionless.
I liked the color of the buildings, here by the water.
“You look like the piss boy!” Okay, I’ve got an infantile sense of humor.
Some boats, some water.
Sure wish I had that guide book. Sigh . . .
See what I mean?
The spires are strange to me. A lot of them have those squashed, oval toroids, rather than the long vertical lines I’m used to seeing. I’m not sure what influence that’s supposed to demonstrate.
I mean, this spire’s a corkscrew, and I can’t remember noticing anything like that (not that I pay TOO much attention to this stuff).
Lots of copper roofs, as you’ve probably noticed.
That corkscrew spire again. Hmm.
I think this is some parliamentary building, but it’s probably a royal palace, so I hope I don’t make any royalty mad. This country and Sweden both kept their monarchies, and it seems they take it all pretty seriously. Did I mention how glad I am to be missing both political parties’ conventions?
Around the corner from the last pic. It’s something related to King Christian VI, according to the inscription over the door. Given that the second statue from the left is Athena/Minerva, maybe it’s a defense ministry or justice hall.
The Thorvaldsen Museum, which houses sculptures (according to the website) by the eponymous sculptor. He evidently raked in enough dosh from this occupation to finance building the museum, back in 1838-1848
I thought it was a nice shot. However, you may be able to tell that I took the picture from the middle of the street, which is not a smart idea. Danes (I could call them Danishes, but that wouldn’t be nice) seem very uptight about crossing the street against the light, even if there are no cars in sight. The Swedes, on the other hand, were more prone to barging through intersections, at least in Stockholm.
“Let’s go (oh-oh-oh) Glyptotek (uh-huh)!” Okay, so it’s a reference from a bad U2 record. Here’s the Glyptotek, a sculpture museum (under renovation) built by the guy who started Carlsberg beer, “probably the best beer in the world.” Seeing the logo everywhere around here reminds me of a guy on the New Zealand trip I took last year, Stuart. He wore a Liverpool football jersey (I mean, “soccer jersey”), which features the Carlsberg logo. I goofed on Stuart somewhat severely, but that sonofabitch had much bigger balls than I did, making a bungee-jump about 3 times higher than the one I made. And he did it for charity.
An entrance to Tivoli , a pretty famous amusement park / garden / etc.
Another entrance to Tivoli. I figure I’ll go in tomorrow and see what it’s like (no point doing EVERYTHING today).
Additional joke: What? No pearl necklace?