It's the Happiest Place on Earth! *Oprah Said...

 I bid farewell to Norway from the back of a ferry boat, waving and prancing across the helicopter pad. 

The ferry took 18 hours, passing through winding fjords with tiny villages tucked into the hills. 

We arrived on the shores of Denmark early the next morning. I crunched down a handful of cornflakes and stepped out into a bight yellow sunrise. There was a bus waiting to take people from the ferry into Hirtshal, the closest town. It was then I realized, I didn’t have any money, actually I didn’t even know what kind of money they had Denmark…

I must do pathetic pretty well, because the bus driver agreed to take me anyway.

From Hirtshal I caught a 6 hour train from the top of Denmark to Copenhagen. When I stepped off the train onto the street I got that week in the knees kind of love at first sight. There was just something in the air. The full bike lanes of Danes making their way home from work, green, yellow and red row houses, men with expensive, rustic outerwear, the lakes of the city speckled with swans. 

While I was trying to find my hostel, I fell in love with the moment before a pedestrian light turns green. The moment when everyone breathes in and leans back in preparation. An instant of coming together before we charged out into the street. 

I soaked up everything and compared it all to Norway…

Its all I had…

First, all the sidewalks in Norway where solid sheets of ice. Instead of walking down the sidewalk you had to preform a stiff, traumatic shuffle… Copenhagen, I love that bare concrete y’all got! 

Next, all the grocery stores I found in Norway were little quick marts, places where you should buy snacks, but not actual food… 

Denmark, for the win! ( I bought some beautiful, local cheeses, fruit, a loaf of brown bread and some sweet, musty pickles. )

Lastly, ( I’m sorry we’re going here, Norway…) Wow, it’s already so much cheaper in Denmark!

Oh and youth discounts. If you’re under 25 you get in to museums free and get discounts on train fare!

Denmark, you have my heart… 

Dogs here go Vov vov 

I met up with an awesome Danish girl, Katrine, who I’d met last year in Vietnam.

We had a kebab out and then went to a brown bar, a type of bar where everyone can smoke inside so the walls turn brown. It’s an old traditional place sailors used to go and drink bottled beer. But, like they so often do, Hipsters have picked it up and made it trendy. 

Katrina showed me an article 6 Ways to Piss off a Dane.

Oh, no! I’d been doing it all wrong. Trying to be friendly and speak a little danish… turns out, they hate that…

She said, to speak danish, you have to remember to hold a potato in your mouth, to get the right sounds. She explained to me her country's communist ways. Life sounds pretty ok!  The little bar was mostly filled with a restaurant’s staff party, pretty soon they befriended us, we spent the rest of the night with them, bar hopping and drinking local beer. 

The next day, was hard. Like hangover days are. I woke up and realized I was wearing my last clean pair of underwear. 

So the time has come, it’s a laundry day.

Laundry day aren’t my favorite. First of all I always end up in some really weird outfit consisting of the cleanest of the dirty clothes, usually with no socks or bra. By the time I actually do laundry EVERYTHING is dirty. 

So I set out, with my bag of clothes, my jankey outfit, a little hungover, to find an ATM, to get the money to wash the clothes!

Denmark…isn’t big on ATMs…2 hours later, I finally went back to the hostel to ask them. Dragging my wounded pride next to my trash bag hamper.

At this point it was noon, I hadn't even had coffee yet ( I did have cornflakes and advil for breakfast ), had been walking for two hours. I felt like everyone thought I was a homeless chick, a big bag of clothes, asking for a bank… I tried to act extra normal and confident and classy. 

But I still felt pretty judged. Also theres something about being out in public with out a bra or socks on, makes me feel pretty vulnerable.

I finally got the money and found the Laundromat. It was about the cutest one I’ve ever met! 

But then I saw the switchboard that was the controls for the machines. Lines of buttons with things written under each, different colors and prices. And kilograms, I tried to think if I’d see a kilo of cocaine in a movie and if it was bigger or smaller than my bag of clothes…

But like a gift from the gods, a little woman walked in. I pointed and made crazy hands and she talked me through each step, put money in, pushed buttons, tada! I had received a laundry guardian angel. 

anyone?...

With my clothes washing, I went to the cafe next door. From the outside it looked like an abandoned building with dirt and spray paint on the windows. Inside there where stacks of firewood lining the walls for the huge brick oven in the center of the cafe. The walls where peeling dry wall, with old sharpie cartoon drawings that crumbled to the brick underneath. 

The tables were mismatched, the plastic on mine had been burned in several places. 

But there were piles of fresh bake croissants stacked on news paper. A little burnt on top with a sweet, crispy bottom, like it had been bake on sugar. It was one of the most simple, delightful pastries I’ve ever eaten.

After my laundry finished, I went home, showered, changed into clean clothes…How could life be so sweet?

I took a bus to Freetown Christiania, an old hippy town shut down in 2011, but it’s still where most all of Copenhagen’s weed is sold. By the time I got there it was dusk, the brick and stone buildings were covered with graffiti, in the center of the commune is 'Pusher Street’ rows of booths covered in camo fabric, so that you can only see the dealers hands from outside. People stood in corners smoking joints, or walking passed with bandannas over their faces, it was sketchy and raw, and I was way over dressed…

I met up with Katrine later that night. She looked so adorable, wearing a blue ski suit and tennis shoes…the things Europeans can pull off! 

We walked through the harbor, to an old warehouse that had been filled with food trucks, campers and booths. She bought me my first traditional Danish meal of fish cakes, rye bread and butter, curried mayonnaise, carrot coleslaw, beet salad with lemon and apples and turnips with cilantro. With an Danish apple cake after… 

Oh, if i wasn’t in love before, now…

I’m in my Hostel room, it’s my last night in the city. The floors are a light hardwood and everything else is white. The place is named Sleep in Heaven. There are sheep and angles painted on the walls. The sign on the front door reads Sleep in Heaven: It’s more fun. And it really is more fun! Theres a beautiful common room with delicious couches and a little bar with espresso and cheap beer. It’s been the perfect home.  

There are three other boys in my dorm, Bed #3, from Japan is sleeping, with most all of his limbs hanging off the edge. Bed #5 and #6 are sitting on our floor, eating Cheetos and talking about Atlantis. I believe they are the perfect soundtrack to fall asleep to…