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The plan was to go to the Botanical Gardens, walking through Norrebro to further investigate what we’d seen there on our few furtive visits, but we ended up meandering around for so long that we never even made it to the gardens

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Our first stop was a weird antiques/junk/salvage shop we’d been walking past every day but was always closed —At first we thought Danes just opened their shops whenever the hell they wanted, but we later found out the erratic opening times were because of Whit— which looked like it might be super expensive but was actually dirt cheap. Loads of excellent old design, cast-iron cookware, ancient trunks & satchels, and the ceiling was swamped by low-hanging lamp shades; we saw about 3 concussions in the 20 mins we spent in there. Made out with twenty vintage stickers and an old Donald Duck comic (He’s called Anders And in Denmark and is much much much more popular) for about £2.50 We went in some stationery shops, a strange army-surplus/street-wear hybrid store that sold the most amazing rain-macs for cheap (tried one on but the arms SWAMPED me) and wandered around until A’s blood sugar dropped and she started to get grumpy. Luckily we stumbled across Torvehallerne (Which nobody told us about – trying to keep it for yourselves I see) and had the freshest most delicious sandwich from the little deli attached to Fiskerikajen. Torvehallerne is basically like a giant super-trendy inShop, filled with butchers, fishmongers, mediterranean markets, and one of only two branches of Coffee Collective: Starbucks’ omnipresent grasp has yet to reach Copenhagen. In our haste to cram giant sandwiches into our maw we forgot to take pictures of the sweet sweet Danish architecture on the outside.

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Credit to Christian Per Bakken

Suitably satiated by rye bread as big as my face and dense enough to be used as a murder weapon, we were refuelled enough to explore rest of the market. It was a hipster haven crammed with gourmet pizzerias, paleo cafes, row after row of obscure olives that you’ve probably never heard of, swathes of italian sausage sold by the foot, and an entire shop dedicated solely to artisanal liquorice.  Once we’d walked off our sandwiches to the point that it didn’t feel like we’d just eaten a cannonball, we started our walk back to the apartment to mop off the sweat and crumbs.

On the way, we stopped off at Frederiksborggarde Is for an ice cream as we’d heard it was pretty sweet – made even sweeter by the fact it was the end of the day and the guy behind the counter had a crush on A and gave us 2 ice creams for the price of one with the caveat that we didn’t tell his boss. For the record I had coffee and A had vanilla & caramel – I know you needed to hear that.  It was ridiculously hot and we had two beers in my bag, so we sat on the bank in the sun and ate our ice creams and drank our beers.

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On the way back to our apartment there was an impromptu carnival courtesy of the Soca Truck. We stopped and partied for a while. Just enjoying the view, the music, and the non-stop daggering.

Tivoli Gardens could be a whole post in itself so I’ll try to keep it short and sweet. It was more money than thought but then we were all like YOLO or whatever. We got the multi-ride pass, and went on a baby-coaster: you would have thought A was on Nemesis or some shit; terrified. There was legit a small child one car in front of us, giggling with delight the whole way round while A cowered into my shoulder and wept. (See top left image)
We partook in some general merriment, walking around, eating shitty food; standard fairground stuff. We went on some spinny rides because A is less scared of them, then she left me to go on THE DEMON alone. Waiting time was only about 20 mins and I got to be at the front – Suck it, Alton Towers. It was like 10 seconds long but real fun and worth it. A++++ would ride again. (bottom right & centre)

It was getting late and A wanted a hot dog, but we really wanted to go on the Star Flyer (bottom left) so after much cajoling A reluctantly agreed. The ride guard was hip to me trying to smuggle a camera on and shot me down so we waited for the next ride; the last ride of the night. It was insane seeing Copenhagen at 11:30 at night from 80m in the air and spinning super fast. All the other rides had all but shut down too, so it was kind of peaceful – Except the cold wind rushing real fast round your ears part. We stayed to watch the fireworks – The best display either of us had seen. And yeah, you read right I watched the fireworks. Recessed from the crowd with fingers in ears, but still…

After that we drank beers en route to Vela Bar. We wanted to see what the gay scene was up to and all the other gay bars were clearly for men. I can’t remember the exact names but something on the lines of “Cock Lounge” “Butt Bar” & “A lively fisting.” A is terrified of her own kind, (Except some scandinavian goddess in a totes-couture dress she couldn’t stop staring at – Happy Anniversary!) so we had two drinks and avoided eye contact with everyone then walked home.

Day 4, coming September 2016.

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We (read: I) had a pretty traumatic flight from BRS, so once we landed we were exhausted and not feeling up to much. We crawled out of the metro in time to hear the strains of Miley Cyrus echoing out of the Forum and got a bus and met our Air BnB host, David who looks like a web-designer from a nineties rom-com.

The apartment is a good proxy for our own flat at home, decent size a bit grubby but not grubby enough for my fiancee to mind. We unpacked, freshened up and headed to the nearest place that sold food and ended up at Steak House just as Distortion was letting out. It was pretty much indistinguishable from Boro Pizzas on a Friday night. We got a large margarita, to which the guy worryingly replied ‘Large? Are you sure?’ and when it came we found out why — Nothing a boro lass couldn’t handle, mind. We made light work of it in front of a danish-subtitled showing of Men in Black on TV. Then slept like the dead.

This morning I was tasked with hunting out Meyer’s Bageri and Coffee Collective but failed miserably and had to wait for A to collect me. We ate a danish and drank a cappuccino on the grass, and realised we were minutes from our apartment and had taken the long way round.

The plan was to walk to the DDC but it turned out to be lousy; an overpriced cafe and one ‘exhibition’ on one desk in the corner, everything else was closed down. The sole highlight was eavesdropping on a man giving a design presentation to some clients: he knew his shit, we learned a bunch. We took advantage of the free wifi to change tactics, as the weather soured and ruled out a bunch of stuff we had planned.

We ended up at the National Museum which turned out to be the best possible decision we could have made. Learned a shit ton about the pre-history of Denmark, learned some runes, saw loads of ridiculously ornate things from a bunch of different countries and cultures and time periods and it was pretty boss. Finished up on the top floor with the Navajo Quilt exhibition (insanely good) and a summary of modern Danish history. The exhibit on the first same-sex marriages in Denmark choked me up pretty bad, but not so much the lady next to me who spent a good ten minutes scrutinising the display then tutted a “Whatever” to herself and walked off.

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Ate a supremely good burrito at Slice of San Francisco which is ran by a super-friendly lady named Miriam, who loves her job more than a person probably should and makes a mean cheesecake (apparently, we didn’t stay to find out!) – Stopped for Ice-cream at a 7-Eleven on the way home (where they still sell Zzaps [!!!]) and dropped into a Netto to pick up some supplies. Photographed a bunch of stuff – Danes don’t fuck about when it comes to packaging. Got one stop planned for the evening then we’re going to explore.

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