Copehagen: The Highlights

• Hotdogs, hold the mayo



Ristet hotdog

• Torvehallerne (a covered market)
• Best buys?
• Anges Cupcakes: Hands down the best carrot cupcake I’ve ever had, and I ate it for breakfast.  Now that’s ambition.



Agnes Cupcakes



Up close: carrot and red velvet cupcakes



Hard at work

• Coffee Collective: At the counter, an employee describes the flavor characteristics of the coffees available that day.  When I went to the market, there were two types of filter coffee available: Brazilian and Kenyan.  When I stepped up to the counter, the employee first told me about the Brazilian coffee, which has a “round” flavor.  I was too busy wondering what the hell “round” meant to listen to his description of Kenyan coffee, so Brazilian coffee it was.  It worked out just fine though because my coffee turned out to be delicious.  Plus, the Coffee Collective is known for its dedication to fresh ingredients, so it doesn't really matter what you order--it'll be good; the workers crush the coffee beans to order and hand filter a cup just for you.



Coffee Collective



Hand-filtering the coffee.  The map along the back wall indicates the areas from which the cafe imports its coffee.



•  Café Rosa: This lady can bake.  I waited to eat my ginger snaps until I got back to Rome, and I was not disappointed.  I saved a few cookies, thinking I’d have them with milk one morning.  I have yet to wake up in time for breakfast, so they continue to stare me down from my bedside table.  We’ll see if I hold out.
• Making (well, watching people make) dinner and dessert from scratch.  The honey-chicken stir-fry was delicious!
• Christmas at Tivoli (just look at the pictures)
• Danish children’s attire
• Biking, minus the bruising



Outside Torvehallerne

•  The “adult playground”
• Bieber Parade
•  The smell and feel of fall!

• Oh, and seeing Amelia too

Copenhagen: Christmas at Tivoli

One of the favorite places in Copenhagen was Tivoli, which was recently redecorated for the holiday season.  Here are some of my favorite shots from my night at Tivoli:

Copenhagen: The City of Hotdogs

I know I may be going a little backwards (I still have to tell you about Istanbul!), but Copenhagen is fresh in my mind.  So here are the (drumroll, please)...

12 Things I learned in København

1. Have you ever felt inadequate, insecure—like you drew the short stick in the gene pool?  Well if you haven’t, you’ll surely experience the feeling in the great lands of Scandinavia (unless, of course, you’re perfect too).  Not only is the typical Dane blessed with blonde hair, blue eyes, and fabulous bone structure—the typical Dane has height too.  These button-nosed, leggy blondes really have it hard, which is why they’re so sweet and smiley all the time.  I felt like I got lost in a dollhouse full of self-loathing and couldn’t get out.  It was just as awful as it was whimsical.  And don’t even get me started with the guys—they may not all have locks of gold, but boy are they tall.  At a bar in the meatpacking district, there were so many drunk Danes throwing their weight around that I almost took a few elbows to the face.  I’ve always wanted to introduce baby blues and height into my brown-eyed, pint-sized family, but I also prefer to keep my teeth.  It was moments like these when I contemplated how long Danish mothers nurse their children.  Seriously.  Grown Danes are huge and so are the things they call babies.  But I guess it makes sense: If Danes are that attractive, they might as well make others feel completely inferior by physically looking down on them.  Oh, so the point?  Don’t visit Copenhagen.
2. The not-so-little babies and toddlers of Copenhagen sport some serious winter gear.  I tried to snipe a picture of one of these nuggets, but my attempt to capture a frontal pic was a failure and felt a little wrong.  So I got a picture from the back instead:



Patterns and purple are very "in"





I also accidentally got this little guy (or gal) in my shot at Christmas at Tivoli

3. Danes are big on all things hyggeligt.  You know…cozy, comfy, snug.  Hyggeligt isn’t just a word used to describe a homey café or cuddling up by the fireplace; hyggeligt is a way of life.  Perhaps this is why Danes are so warm and welcoming—they really take hyggeligt to heart.  However, don’t expect Danes to chat up a total stranger; though very polite, they tend to keep to themselves, unless provoked.  And hyggeligt is pronounced hoo-glee, or something along those lines.  I just wanted you to struggle with it for a bit.
4. The hotdog is a staple of Copenhagen’s street cuisine.  It’s also one of the only foods cheap enough for a broke abroad student to buy every day she’s in the city.  Although these hotdogs are delicious, there are ways you can go wrong.  Or perhaps there’s only one way you can go wrong, and it starts with “m” and ends in “ayonnaise.”  I made the mistake of ordering a “French hotdog” my first night in Copenhagen, lured in by the hollow, mini baguette that held the dog and condiments so perfectly.  Blinded by the aesthetic appeal of the dog, I ordered one late Thursday night, about four hours after my Copenhagen debut.  I swear it; there were stars in my eyes.  The dog came with Danish ketchup (we’re not talking Heinz here) and a tangy mayonnaise not quite like the mayo we have back in the States.  I thought the French dog was heaven-sent until I noticed the unmistakable taste of mayo lingering in my mouth.  For those of you who know me well, you are familiar with my sophisticated palate—I am obsessed with ketchup and disgusted by mayonnaise.  Therefore, the combination of “ketchup” and mayonnaise did not bode well with my taste buds or my tummy.  And I was pissed.  After my encounter with the French hotdog, I knew I had to switch strategies.  I opted for a Ristet dog instead, which is served in a traditional hotdog bun and topped with “ketchup,” mustard, remoulade (a sweet mayo and pickle sauce similar to relish), crispy onions, raw onions, and—here’s the kicker—three perfectly sweet and crunchy pickles.  Since the sweet remoulade tasted more like relish and less like lard, I wasn’t complaining.  And as for the French hotdog, I’ll leave it to the Danes. 

   

   Amelia and I enjoying some late night hotdogs.  Unfortunately, I forgot to order pickles on this one.
5.   Speaking of dogs, let’s talk about the other type of dog: the animal.  Dogs in Denmark are gargantuan.  Sure, you get your tiny dogs (the ones you’d really just like to punt), but these dogs aren’t the norm in Copenhagen.  Pitbulls are the norm.  Very, very large pitbulls.  I suspect they are bred selectively to weed out the runts and maximize body mass.  You know, so they are fit to be giant’s best friend.
6. Spoken, Danish doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard before; written, it looks like a rambling drunk text from a sausage-fingered friend.  At any rate, the language is just plain awkward, whether it’s spoken by a Dane or butchered by a tourist.  Luckily, nearly all Danes are fluent in English, so you don’t have to be embarrassed about being an American.  If you think this takes away from the “cultural aspect” of visiting a foreign city, do yourself a favor: skip the Danish lesson and rent a bike instead.
7. Since we’re on the topic of bikes, let’s stick with it.  Biking is the real deal in Copenhagen, and is part of the widespread “green” initiative.  With high taxes on cars and gasoline (roughly 200 and 100 percent, respectively), it’s also more cost-efficient to ditch the car and use a bike and public transit instead.  So—as much as I missed the endless hours of walking and vespa-dodging in Rome—I was pretty excited about hopping on bike.  Amongst the crowd of bicycles, I felt very immersed in Danish culture.  I also felt incredible tense, a tad bit wobbly, and in fear for my life.  Even so, cycling around the city was my favorite part of Copenhagen.  I laughed, I cried, I almost fell whenever I tried to hand signal, and I spent the whole weekend wondering why my athleticism didn’t quite translate onto two wheels.  I returned to Rome with a fond memory of biking: the crisp wind kissing my cheeks and the smell of hotdogs in the air.  Granted, this was just one memory, and most of my cycling memories involve my life flashing before my eyes.  Biking also did a number on my undercarriage and arms, clearly the result of a rickety seat and a nervous habit of clutching the handlebars.  I think I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Copenhagen cycling, but for now my only tangible memory of the experience is the immense impact it had on my ass.  How’s that for hyggeligt?

   

   One of my finer biking moments
   
   

   

   Amelia riding tandem with her friend, Ian
   

   
   

   Bikes outside in the meatpacking district

8. There’s nothing quite like Christmas cheer—you know, that feeling you get when you watch your mother burn her fingers on the pizzelle iron while you stuff yourself with pieces from the “reject” pile.  Nice people get the same feeling when they fight off the cold with a cup of hot cocoa.  (To each his own.)  But us adults know there’s no better way to get in the holiday spirit than with, well, a holiday spirit (or five).  Not only was Christmas at Tivoli one of the darnedest things I’d ever seen, it had some of the best hot toddies that have ever warmed my soul.  Apple wine was my favorite, but mulled wine was quite the hit as well.  And let’s not limit ourselves to hot drinks; Christmas beer is even bigger among the Danish crowd.  Every year during the first week of November, Carlsberg and Tuborg launch their Christmas beers.  The date is known as “J-day,” derived from the Danish word for the festive brew (Juleøl or Julebryg).  Danes wait anxiously for Christmas beer to hit the shelves and often party on J-day to kick off the holiday season.  These beers are typically darker and stronger than their original counterparts, and (in my opinion) are pretty god-awful.  They’re weirdly sweet, and I’m really not sure what all the hype is about.  Perhaps it stems from their place in Danish tradition or from the appeal of their festive labels.  Maybe it’s the delicious taste of sweet, dark lager that makes you wish you’d ordered something a little less in season.  But let’s be honest, it’s probably just the high alcohol content.

   

   The entrance to Tivoli
   
   

   

   Christmas at Tivoli
   
   

   

   Apple wine.  (Sorry about your gloves, Meil...)
   
   
   

   

   
   

   Enjoying some mulled wine by the water at a small Christmas market

   

   
   

9. If you want to know why Danes like alcohol so much, the answer lies in their blood.  Just take a look at this excerpt from an exhibit in the historical Carlsberg brewery:
   

   King Christian IV was neither the first nor the last person to take an interest in Danish beer as an object of taxation.  At a personal level the famous Danish King had a great affection for beer.  The Renaissance had arrived with large quantities of food and drink, and the abundant and often salty food required the intake of vast amounts of liquid.  Between ten and 30 litres of beer a day was standard during this period, which has been described as “The Great Nordic Inebriation.”

   And you think college is bad nowadays...

   

   Beer rations for employees of Carlsberg Brewery during its early operation
   
   

   

   Bottle collection in Carlsberg Brewery (as of early November, there are over 20,000!)
   
   

   

   Complementary drink after our self-guided tour of the brewery

10. Bieber fever is real.  I know what you’re thinking Where have you been, sister?  So maybe you’ve smooched a life-sized Bieber cutout or “Baby” graces your “Top 25 Most Played” at #14, but you don’t know Bieber fever until you’ve seen it in the flesh…of more than 600 screaming Danish preteens.  The heart of my inner twelve-year-old skipped a beat when I spotted a rush of crazed Beliebers trampling my way.  And—as you can imagine—Danes aren’t that light on their feet.  It was intense.  Where is he?! I thought, a little embarrassed about my eagerness but ready to join the cult.  Turns out, J. Biebs wasn’t even in Copenhagen.  In fact, he probably wasn’t even close because he had a concert in LA on Sunday night.  So why were these girls running around like madmen with banners in hand and love in their hearts?  Not really sure.  I think it’s part of some project to get Justin Bieber to come to the city, but I think it was a little creepy.  Ever heard of coming on too strong?  Nonetheless, I was ready for Belieber initiation, though purple isn’t really my color.  Later I learned that the girls were a part of a “Bieber parade,” which wasn’t the first to hit Copenhagen.  It was an all-day affair, and I could go on for days about how strange and exciting it was, but I’ll make it easy on you and post this video instead:

    

    The end of the parade by Tivoli

11. There is a weird little neighborhood in Copenhagen called Christiania, which is home to over 800 free spirits.  This liberal neighborhood is self-sufficient and has a set of rules apart from the Danish government.  No one really owns a house in Christiania, as it’s been a squatter’s area since the ‘70s.  However, residents that have been in the neighborhood for the longest period live in the nicest houses and those new to the area live in small shacks.  Christiania is also known as the home of “Pusher Street,” where marijuana is sold.  The street once was operating freely, but in recent years Danish authorities have stepped in.  An interesting law in Christiania is that hard drugs are not permitted, despite an acceptance of marijuana.  The residents of the neighborhood are also very open-minded and discourage violence; they established “Gay House,” a LGBT center in the neighborhood and also forbid the use or ownership of guns, knives, and other potentially harmful objects.  A mere five- to ten-minute walk from “Pusher Street” are shacks and a large lake.  There is even a school, marked with colorful graffiti.  We saw a young family at the school’s playground, and there are signs nearby that ask visitors to respect the children’s area.  The whole place is just plain weird, but it was really interesting to learn about Christiania and its place in history.  I wish I could show you some pictures of the neighborhood, but another rule of the area is that photo taking is prohibited.  Go figure.

    

    The entrance to Christiania, where photos are allowed.  The opposite side of the sign says, "Welcome to the EU," indicating the neighborhood's identity as an autonomous commune

    
    

    

    A mural not too far from Christiania

12.  Copenhagen has an “adult playground.”  Now before you jump to conclusions, it’s not what you think (though it wouldn’t hurt the love life).  The “adult playground” refers to a modern play area that appeals to both children and adults.  It’s a term coined by confused Americans who really have no idea what the place is called and are too lazy to figure it out.  Plus, us abroad students like to refer to ourselves as adults as much as possible because we’re that much more mature and worldly now that we’ve partied in half a dozen foreign cities.  Anyway, the adult playground is just about the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, right behind mayo dogs and Christiania.  (Yeah, leave it to Copenhagen.)  At first glance, the playground doesn’t look like much.  However, it has several amusing features.  In one area there are large metal slabs (similar to tabletops) that rest on giant springs.  You’re supposed to jump on them, but they’re metal slabs on springs on concrete.  So I did the smart thing and jumped on them very cautiously.  This worked out just fine until I realized my tame approach wouldn’t keep Amelia from putting on her leotard and stomping all over my fun.  (She used to be an acrobat or something. I like to call them show-offs.)  So once Amelia decided that “fun” involved danger, I stepped down from the table and went to the ropes instead.

    

    Amelia being careless on the springy tables
    
    

    

    Just hanging out (like the pun, Mom?)
    
    

    

    Upright swinging is too amateur for Amelia, so she decided to flip upside down instead

Weekend Trip #3: Barcelona

Well hey there everyone (or all three of you)-

Sorry about my little hiatus from the blogging world, but I've had a few busy weeks and haven't been great about keeping this thing going.  I'm trying to get my blogging life together though, so I'll try to put up a few posts this week.

Anyway, last time we spoke I had gone to Oktoberfest in Munich.  That was the weekend of September 23rd.  So--as you can imagine--this may take a while...

First stop: Barcelona

Day 1:

We arrived in Barcelona very late Thursday night, so we decided to wait until Friday morning to check out the city.  On Friday, we immediately got in touch with the Spanish culture by starting our day with some Starbucks.  Once we recovered from temporary nostalgia, we headed off to some Gaudi sites; we saw Casa Batllo, Casa Mila, and La Sagrada Familia.  We got tickets to go inside and to the top of both Casa Mila and La Sagrada Familia.  The architecture of the Gaudi buildings is incredibly strange, but somehow, it works.  La Sagrada Familia was definitely one of the most interesting buildings I've ever seen, with its nature-inspired elements, "sand-castle" exterior, and beautiful stained glass windows.  It feels nothing like a church, and is almost a little eery, but even with all the people it was a very serene place (despite the fact I almost vomited while descending the spiral staircase from one of its towers).  Then we met up with some Trinity students from the Trinity-in-Barcelona program, and they showed us around the area.  We went to the markets at Las Ramblas, walked through the side streets and plazas nearby, and then saw Santa Maria del Mar, a Gothic Catalan church.  The markets were filled with fresh meats, fish, and produce and crowded with locals and tourists.

Later on we had a great dinner of tapas, a variety of Spanish appetizers.  We ordered two types of chopitos (calamari), chorizo, croquetas (fried rolls of mashed potatoes and God knows what else...some type(s) of minced meat, fish, or whatever they want to put in it...in any case, it's super rich but pretty good), patatas something or other (with some type of aioli--very good), tortilla de patatas (omelette with potatoes and onion--one of my favorites!), garlic chicken, and pan de tomate (THE BEST and a Catalan specialty--bread with tomato, olive oil, and salt).  That said, it was a very light dinner.  We also had sangria (I mean we had to), which is a little too sweet for my liking but I toughed it out.  Mom, you would've loved it, and sorry, it beats the sangria you tried to make at home :)

But enough about food..later in the day we also saw the Agbar Tower, which is a huge building lit red and blue in the night.  Then we headed to a beach-side club called Opium, which was a blast but unfortunately did not have any opium.  A little misleading.

Casa Batllo

A green near our hostel

Inside the courtyard of Casa Mila

Haley and I at the top of Casa Mila

Emma and I in front of La Sagrada Familia

The interior of La Sagrada Familia

Stained glass windows within the church

Taking a break in a plaza

A plaza by Las Ramblas

The produce market at Las Ramblas

Hanging out by the beach before heading into the nightclub

Opium with Jynette, Brian, and Emma

Day 2:

On Saturday, we stopped at an awesome bakery for breakfast and then headed to visited Park Guell, another Gaudi creation.  Getting to the park was a little confusing and quite the hike, but it was totally worth it.  The park has beautiful mosaics, buildings, and views of the city.  Park Guell took up a good amount of the day, so afterward we took it easy and did a little shopping.  Then we went to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and St. Eulalia (aka Barcelona Cathedral), which has numerous chapels with gilded decorations and figures.  And (of course) we took siesta.  Then we met up with the Trinity-in-Barcelona crew again for a slightly fancier dinner.  I ordered Catalan sausage with white beans (which was delicious), while the others had fish and paella.  Later, we went to L'Ovella Negra (The Black Sheep), a warehouse-turned-bar, which one of my friends likened to the mead hall in Beowulf (I prefer the great hall in Harry Potter, but I guess the grungy atmosphere of L'Ovella Negra was a little more Beowulf than Potter).  Then we went out to a nightclub called Razzmatazz, known for its multiple floors, each of which plays a different genre of music.

Strolling through the streets of Barcelona

A view of the city from a peak by Park Guell

Pretending to like Haley at Park Guell

Chapel inside Barcelona Cathedral

Courtyard within Barcelona Cathedral

12 Things I Learned in Barcelona

1. Maybe I’m a little slow, but I had always just assumed that the Spanish you hear in America is the Spanish that you’d hear in Spain.  Well, you know what happens when you assume! (I’ve always been applauded for my innovative humor).  Spanish Spanish—not to be confused with American Spanish (I made up these terms myself. Impressed?)—doesn’t believe in the English “s” sound, which I quickly learned when I checked into my hostel (Can I pleath thee your pathport?).  Don’t worry, I got it when she repeated it for the third time…and after a gentle nudge and whisper from my friend.  But honestly, I thought the owner of the hostel had a cute little lisp until I listened closely to the other locals and realized I was a big moron.  It turns out she doesn’t mean to speak like a post-braces teenager all retainered-up for bed, the /s/ we’re familiar with just doesn’t have a place in the Spanish Spanish language.  And since I have a soft spot for speech impediments, as I once had a slight lisp of my own (It’s not that cool in America), I found this aspect of the Spanish Spanish language quite endearing.  Please excuse all the s’s.
2. There is a huge "grunge" scene in Barcelona.  Ripped jeans, black vintage t-shirts, and dread-mullets (yes, you heard me correctly) are quite the rage in the city.  As my group consisted of five New Englanders who attend a small liberal arts school in New England, you can only imagine how much we fit into this scene.  Nonetheless, we had a lot of fun people watching, and I saw more dread-mullets than I think I'll ever see in my life.  And if you don't know what I mean by "dread-mullet," just google it.  You'll understand.
3. In Catalonia (Catalunya), Barcelona there are more Catalan flags than Spanish flags.  The Catalan people speak their own language and have intense loyalty to Catalonia, which they hope to make a sovereign nation.
4. I once thought Spaniards were a bit too lazy (and incredibly smart) for taking siesta in the afternoon.  But after a long weekend in Barcelona, I’ve learned it’s okay to take siesta, especially in “the city that never sleeps."

   

   A view of the crowd on the first floor of Razzmatazz

5. I learned that the title “the city that never sleeps” not only applies to NYC but to Barcelona as well.  I learned this by Wikipedia-ing “the city that never sleeps.”  Tel Aviv also shares this title.  Tel Aviv is in Israel.  I learned that too.
6. It’s okay to stay up late, but don’t get too ambitious and go to bed at 5 am when you have to get up at eight to catch your flight.  You will refuse to wake up early enough to bathe in the morning, and consequently, you will look like hell.   You will fall asleep on the train back from the airport, and your “friends” will take unflattering videos and pictures of you.  They will then post these gems on social networking sites, and—through the perversion of modern technology—“enhance” the photos to their liking.  I understand this is quite a specific incident, but take it from me. It will happen, and you will almost regret it. 

   

   Exhibit A

   

   Exhibit B (one of many "enhanced" photos)