Oh Denmark, Denmark, Denmark.
You’re everything the UK should be but isn’t.
Sorry Germany, you’ll get your blog post sooner or later. Denmark just has me inspired right now, sorry.
Just… Wonderful? It sounds really silly to say, but things just seem to make sense here.
I may, or may not, be getting ahead of myself. I’ve barely been here even 24 hours yet, but what little I’ve seen seems to line up perfectly with everything I’ve heard Denmark would be. I feel like everyone got the “life” memo here.
As I write this I’m sat in a cafe eating breakfast. Coffee, OJ, and a croissant – hardly Danish – but anyway, it’s coming up to 10am. The day is just getting started. The sun isn’t shining, and the trees aren’t swaying gently in the breeze. It’s raining, it’s a nondescript shade of grey, it’s homely, dare I say. (I’m proof reading and I just realised it rhymed, HA!) Now maybe I’m biased, maybe I see Scandinavia as a whole through rose tinted glasses, maybe it’s because I’m technically on holiday – even if I don’t view it as one. But it doesn’t feel the same. Those all too familiar grey clouds, aren’t filled with a sense of impending doom. The imminent downpour isn’t going to wash away my hope of having a positive day. While the facts might be the same, it’s grey and raining. The outlook is intrinsically different. I feel as though, in England, we’re somehow still surprised that we live in a country riddled with newly forming puddles. We’re somehow shocked to find out that we don’t live aside the Mediterranean. Somehow we’re underprepared for, what is realistically, the inevitable. It rains and heads drop, the mood dampens as quickly as the pavement. We’re caught blissfully unawares without an umbrella or a coat. Why’s it raining? This is England! It shouldn’t be raining. It’s ONLY mid October – OF COURSE IT WAS GOING TO RAIN. Yet, here. Denmark. Denmark aren’t playing games. Denmark aren’t dressing up the issue. It’s going to rain, it’s always going to rain. Might as well be prepared for it. Accept it. Bring a raincoat, get on with life. Smile.
This sounds really stupid to write. Really fucking stupid and minor. I’m literally writing about the differences in rain. Fucking Rain. But as cliched as it might be, the little things go a long way. But the little things done right are really evident here. From road layouts and storefronts to customer service and appropriate weather attire. It just makes sense. In the combined 4~ hours I’ve wandered the streets of Copenhagen I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve stopped outside a shop window and marvelled at their displays. I couldn’t imagine doing that in Britain if it was raining, the weight of the droplets would be too much for my neck to bear to even consider raising my gaze.
People. Ugh. The people. Copenhagen is a Pitt stop on the way to visiting my friend, Mai. She’s Danish, and lives in a city called Aarhus. We met while working in Spain around 4 years ago. We’ve been friends ever since. (Isn’t travelling amazing?! I wouldn’t have made Danish friends on the Wirral!) She’s a loser, objectively mean, but nonetheless I love her very much and I’m excited to see her for the first time in almost 2 years. Since being in Denmark I’ve been met with nothing but positive vibes. The openness and warmth I’d previously only read about. This is going to sound really silly, but it made me overwhelmingly happy. Across the cafe is a group of elderly gentlemen. I would guess that they’re all around 60~ years old. Between the 4 of them I have so far heard them talk in 4 languages simultaneously. English, French, German, and what I can only assume is Danish. They ordered their coffee, whilst whimsically flitting between English and Danish. To which the barista replied in a perfect yet distinctively British accent – Think Kiera Knightly. A friend walked through the door, and was quickly greeted with a kiss on each cheek and a “ça va?” Whilst eating breakfast a phone rang and a the language switched again! German! He chuckled heartily before passing on the conversation to his friends. Meanwhile, I’m sitting hidden behind my bilingual version of “Le petit prince” trying to keep my brain matter from flying out of my ears while watching this linguistic masterclass unfold.
I could go on, and in the coming days I probably will, but right now I actually want to get back outside in the cold and get lost in the city. In short. Denmark, I think I’m falling for you and this is only the beginning.
Love,
Flynn! x
Let's go on an adventure. 