Falling in love with Copenhagen and living like a local in Zagreb
Our last stop in Croatia was much like our first: slow moving and full of reveling in the pleasure of being present in a place. Matching Zagreb’s laid back pace, we slept in many mornings for the first time on the trip. When we finally ventured out, we were met with crowds of locals waiting to the frequent bright blue trams and buskers playing jazz on every corner of the Ban Jelačić Square, the sprawling open meeting space in the heart of the city. We’ve now seen buskers in every city in Europe and I can confidently say the ones in Zagreb were the most talented. We watched toddlers dance joyfully, grannies stop and sit for a song, and construction workers take their breaks in front of the jazz bands scattered around the city. Being engulfed in the constant warm music while we sipped our coffee and explored new spaces only added to the quiet charm and romance of Zagreb.
Zagreb is a manageable city of almost 800,000- the smallest big city we’ve been to yet. Most of the destinations in the city are condensed into an area that can easily be traversed on foot. We played local for the 10 days we stayed in the city; slowly exploring, indulging in spooky movies in our comfortable apartment, cooking our own meals with cheap and incredibly fresh ingredients from the nearby market and bakeries.
$15 for all of this! Including the hunk of homemade cheese and stunning flowers. I’m going to have a heart attack when we return to Harris Teeter
While we tried our best to adhere to local customs, we simply aren’t laid back enough to enjoy the cafe culture in Croatia. Locals will attest to spending a full 12 hours at a coffee shop as the time of day dictates coffee or wine. We tried so hard to spend more than an hour at a cafe, but we got bored and restless and had to move on. When we grew tired of lounging around over a cappuccino and wandering through the city center, we visited museums.
we learned on a city tour that this star was placed there, during the witch hunts, to catch witches as they flew over it in the night. If a woman was found hanging from it or with a torn dress, she would be killed for being a witch. TBD if they got any “witches” this way
Filled with objects ranging from a person’s severed dreadlocks, to a vibrator, to a film container of ashes, the Museum of Broken Relationships sits as a monument to love and loss. The museum is full of everyday objects, donated, along with their story, by people after a broken relationship. Every story was unexpected. From the funny ones to the angry ones to the heartbreaking, reading the stories of love and how it transcends everything that we perceive as different from one another, was my favorite afternoon spent in Zagreb. More strangers join the club of witnessing me cry in public, but we all were so it doesn’t count. Check out some of the collection here.
In anticipation of our early morning flight to Copenhagen on Halloween, I booked a place on our last night out in the suburbs of Zagreb, by the airport. Serendipitously, the apartment overlooked a huge cemetery. As we arrived at dusk, relatives were pouring into the cemetery with votive candles and flower arrangements in tow. As the sun set, thousands of specks of light floated in the foggy darkness, subtly illuminating the graves they rested on. It would be easy to mistake the scene before us as a spooky Halloween one, but instead, it was warm and filled me with a gentle peace. Hundreds of people had come to quietly remember and honor their loved ones who had passed from this life. Like in the Museum of Broken Relationships, I was reminded that grief and love are two sides of the same coin.
The time in Zagreb stretched out and allowed for us to sit and be more present in the moments. It’s now officially sunk in that this is our life for the moment. The dreaded, exhausting travel days are becoming more commonplace as the bags become heavier and we have semblances of routines that play out in each new city. It’s funny that the things that made me both appreciate life and frustrated me about it are the same even here. The fresh bread, a warm smile from strangers on the street, dancing in the kitchen with Grant, the sound of live jazz echoing through the city, a pretty sunset; it’s still the sweet simple things that make me happy to be alive even during the most chaotic and unprecedented moments. And the things that frustrate me? Usually, Grant and I bickering about something stupid like directions or needing something out of my bag the moment I get comfortable in our uncomfortable hostel bed.
Zagreb, and the whole of Croatia, was long and sweet and slow. There’s a little bit of something for everyone there and I can’t recommend it enough. I’ll hold the memories of relaxing and reflecting there close to my heart for a long time.
When we started the trip, we had no idea we’d be going to Denmark, or any Scandinavian country for that matter. I’m in awe of the moment we find ourselves in; the freedom we have to follow curiosities and opportunities that find us. It’s an unmatched joy that my time and my life are finally my own and that I have the chance to change the course of it with something we’d just recently decided. Copenhagen is a place that has shifted something for me; hopefully I’m brave enough to take that shift with me long after this adventure is over.
Sitting somewhere between the small and manageable Zagreb and overwhelmingly massive London, Copenhagen feels knowable, but like it would take you an enjoyably long amount of time to do so. And we tried our best in the 5 days we spent here. Dashing from museum to tour to industrial power plant (more on that later), we’re leaving Copenhagen knowing we’ll come back for more.
The famous Nyhavn neighborhood. One of the few times the sun came out while we were in Denmark
We haven’t felt welcomed by Copenhagen as much as we’ve felt like we’ve returned somewhere familiar; unlike a lot of other cities we’ve now been to, it hasn’t felt so hard to belong here. While we may never completely fit in with the Danes themselves, Copenhagen has a huge expat and international population. We’ve caught snippets of accented English all over the city and haven’t met a single person yet who can’t hold a perfect conversation in it. English as a second language is the expectation for Scandinavians, as one local put it to us “if we didn’t learn English, we wouldn’t be able to speak to anyone. No ones going to learn Danish!”
More than most places we’ve been to, we had a loose itinerary for our visit to Denmark. But despite the research and the group hostel chats we joined in vain, we couldn’t figure out what to do for Halloween, our first night in the city. Cold and dreary, we wandered around, unsure of what to expect from the fledgling holiday here. As we walked through the streets, past the bars, a surprising amount of young people were dressed up in the bare minimum that’s required for a costume- scrubs and a stethoscope, a vampire cape and fake teeth-but nothing compared to the creativity, dedication and humor of people back home. We were just about to call it and settle for a “just fine” Halloween when we walked past Tivoli Gardens, the second oldest amusement park in the world. A massive jack-o-lantern suspended in the arch of the entrance gate, lit up from within, smiling menacingly down at us as visitors and locals alike streamed into the park.
We’d long written off Tivoli as an attraction for us; I don’t like park rides and we couldn’t afford the steep price. But the park was radiating some warm, inviting, celebratory energy and I couldn’t turn away from the promise of wonder lurking just behind the pumpkin. Grant, being the more responsible one in that moment, squirmed about the budget as I pleaded, “when will we ever have this opportunity again? We have to embrace spontaneity!” and ultimately convinced him it would be worth the expense.
The smell of popcorn and mulled wine, pretzels and candied nuts, drifted out of the wooden concession shacks and into the cool air as the path led us deeper into the park. Unlike our amusement parks back home, Tivoli felt like something out of a fairy tale. The ornately decorated rides, the creative, and occasionally strange games, the all-encompassing Halloween decorations, every aspect of the park seemed to be done with great thought and care in mind to create an other-worldly experience.
The sense of wonder from the magical park and the sheer delight of thinking our day would go one way and having it take a completely different turn was worth every dollar spent.
I’m happy to say, after all these years of wondering, Denmark has more than lived up to my hopes for it and it is seemingly full of happy people. The locals we met, from the flea markets, to the coffee shops, and all the spaces in between have an air of unbothered to joy to them. There’s something ineffably light about their attitudes and the way they move through life. The closest word I can find for it is, possibly and simply, content.
From the little bit I’ve had time to research, the danish happiness seems to boil down to two things above all else: their community and having their needs met. Denmark is a capitalist country but they have an expansive social welfare state (not a pejorative here! Imagine!) and very few people seem to struggle. Just think of how much easier life would be with the guarantee that you won’t want for anything important and essential to surviving. Beyond the security net, people trust that everyone shares in the desire to have a happy life and that they each contribute to one another’s happiness.
I’ve been wondering all week how my life, how my self, would be different if I’d been born a Dane. Maybe it isn’t so obvious when you spend your whole life in your home country, but where we’re from so heavily influences who we are. What about us is inextricably linked to America? And what might my life look like in America, if we, too, cared for and trusted in our communities so deeply? How could we advance if we all had our needs met?
I feel invigorated in Copenhagen in a way I haven’t in any other city we’ve been to. Copenhagen feels like it’s full of possibilities; opportunities waiting to unfold. It’s the first place we’ve been able to fully see ourselves living in out of all the places we’ve been (but probably not our forever home, don’t worry moms). The city has the perfect balance that we’ve been searching for. Big enough to never be boring but with neighborhoods, and architecture, that have more of a small town feeling. Excellent public transit, extremely safe, diverse and abundant museums and cultural spaces, beautiful nature and green spaces, a wealth of international food, amazing shopping, and a strong emphasis on sustainability and mitigating the climate crisis. From what I can see, Denmark seems to function as closely to something like a utopia as possible.
Keeping with the sentiment of building a better world, while many cities around the world have taken the climate pledge to be carbon neutral by 2040, Copenhagen is the only one that pledged to meet that goal by 2025-a far more ambitious and impactful timeline. Since 2005, Copenhagen has reduced its emissions more than 75% and is still hard at work to meet their goal as they tackle every sector in society. Maybe the most visible success story of this goal is the adoption of bikes for public transit; more than 60% of Copenhageners use their bike for daily commuting and bikes in the city out number cars 5 to 1 and it’s extremely plain to see. This plan also includes switching to renewable resources for energy, curbing pollution, improving the health of their natural environment, and reducing waste in the city. The citizens of Copenhagen seem to be key to the success of this plan thus far. The locals want to meet this goal and are willing to sacrifice things and change their lives to achieve it.
A bridge designed to make pedestrians want to stop and spend some time
The most unique place we’ve visited in our whole trip thus far has to be Copenhill, the recreational complex built on Amager Bakke, the renewable energy power plant sitting just across the canal from downtown Copenhagen. Amager Bakke burns waste from the city and its residents to generate a renewable source of energy for the city. Two birds one stone! Check out a picture of it here. Note: the fog is all water vapor!
At 120 feet tall, the power plant is also home to the world’s tallest rock climbing wall- a dizzying sight as it scales the entire height of the building. An elevator made of glass rocketed us to the roof of the building, an audio-recording breaking down the machinery all around us and its role in converting waste to energy. On the roof, a bar sat near a playground with 360° views of Copenhagen and Sweden across the Baltic sea. On one side of the building, industries fanned out in front of us; smoke stacks from other, unknown, power plants and huge rows of windmills standing in the sea. Behind us, Copenhagen with its bell towers and handful of skyscrapers puncturing the overcast sky. Beyond the playground, the roof opens up into a massive ski slope that-get this-you can ski down without snow! In fact, the intention is for it to be snowless! Damn humans can be so amazing. What isn’t possible if we choose to do it? The future is bright with innovation and creativity.
Copenhagen has been an inspiration and a bit of a revelation. In less than 20 years, the city has revolutionized itself to be better. Better for its citizens, better for the world; and better by its citizens, something that feels far away given the divisions back home. Copenhagen has helped me chip away at what I want and how I want my life to look after this Big Adventure comes to a close. It feels more possible than ever to live in more harmony and balance with nature and society; to live somewhere where sacrifice isn’t at the forefront of our human experience but collaboration and care is. I mean, they put a ski slope on top of a giant incinerator that burns their trash to power their homes-that’s the kind of world I want to live in. I’m leaving Copenhagen feeling hopeful and energized and ready to find community with people who want to build a better world.
I didn’t have the time this week to dig in as much as I would have liked to the nitty gritty of Copenhagen’s pledge to be carbon neutral or the root of their happiness. I’m hoping to write a mini newsletter strictly about the two most intriguing parts of Copenhagen sometime soon. But until then our hearts and anxieties are with you all on this stressful day and we’re hoping everyone stays safe and we’ll celebrate together next week!
Now onto Roma and ten days in Italy (speaking of places we didn’t think we’d go on this trip)!
Farvel!
-Amelia
