He was so welcoming. I just had to name him - and take a twofie.
I picked up some cash, bought my Copenhagen card (5 day) and bought a metro ticket (never used it - guess they do spot checks). It took me a little bit to figure out where I was going. I've gotten so lazy at prepping for trips. Figure I'll wing it and it usually works out.
Think I'm on the right train - everyone got on and rule number one is just to follow the masses and you'll usually end up close to where you need to go. Usually.
When I came up from the metro into the city center I was struck by the bikes. Now I knew this is the biking capital of the world and I've been in European cities that had a lot of bikes (Gottingen comes to mind being a university town). But this was beyond everything I've seen, combined and multiplied by a million. Bikes as far as the eye can see.
I go to the other side of the station and there are even more bikes.
I can't find my bus stop but I find more and more masses of bikes. I gave up taking pictures of it all because it would be just a boring blog of parked bikes. I have a sneaking suspicion there will be one or two more photos posted of masses of bikes I stumble upon before the end of my trip.
And then I see it. My bus is driving down the street and I run to catch it. Again no checking of ticket. I sit down, pull out the map and try to figure our where I'm going and where I am. Thank goodness for the parks since my map is from the library and is light on street names. I realize I'm on the right bus, going the wrong direction. But got to check out the location of two museums I want to visit.
The art museum, aka SMK. And a geology museum.
I take a seat on the bus bench next to an old gentleman and wait.
And wait. Enjoying the view across the street.
Copenhagen has a distinctive feel. Definitely not like London or Paris or Berlin or Madrid which are more crowded. Although similar to Stockholm it's different some how. Haven't put my finger on it yet. My gentleman friend abandons me and calls a cab. I wait some more and the bus finally arrives. I don't know how, but I get off at exactly the right stop and descend on my Airbnb host. They are not ready until 4 pm but said I could swing by and drop my bag off. The whole building (I'm guessing 10 units) are painting doors, gardening, cleaning. All very young and frankly they all look so similar. I meet my host who is very nice and has impeccable English (I need to learn some Danish words). I grab a few things from my bag and head off for a stroll of the neighborhood. I walk up to the next busy cross street and am thrown into a buggy promenade.
The sidewalk has tons of strollers. I feel like I'm in some strange neighborhood and am overcome with a sudden need to find a buggy to push and blend in. I meander along, not really paying attention and see a pair of buggy pushers just ahead of me go into this little door in a brick wall. Without thinking I follow and am transported into another strange kingdom.
The boxwood smell is everywhere. At first I thought I was in a very French, stylized garden. I wasn't sure if it was public or private. And then I look closer at one of the boxwood spaces and realize...
I'm in a cemetery. And it seems public. It's like nothing I've seen before. A little like the famous Paris cemetery but more gardeny and a lot more trees. The trees are amazing. This pair just "hugs" you as you pass under.
I do feel like I'm in some strange noir film. It's me, and these trees that are very amorophic and seem like they will take a step, and the buggy pushers that I glimpse here and there darting down the pathways. And the cemetery plots. They are strange - none are old. Almost all have died this millennium. The oldest one I can find is 1988. And clearly the landscape the envelopes the new headstones are much older.
And in some, it seems like more headstones then bodies that can fit in the space. Are these just memory plots? Or maybe it's ashes that are buried. And there are several plots that are empty, stripped of any green with just a number.
I don't understand it but it's beautiful and I like it. I find a bench in the dappled shade and take a break to plan my adventures, share my stories and enjoy the view.
Even though I'm very tired. I'm surprised I'm doing so well being it's after 9 pm Boston time and I'm guessing I got about 3 hours of sleep.
Can you tell I'm tired?!
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