I couldn't avoid it. Well, to be honest, I could, and I would have liked to have come back home and announced that I had...
Nonetheless, on the way, I stopped off at the Danish Occupation Museum, which recounted the years of the German occupation during the Second World War (why is there no English Occupation Museum to commemorate the years of Danish rule from 1016-1042? I think we should be told). Denmark was invaded in order to get to Norway, whose occupation was required in order to stop the export or iron ore from Sweden to Britain.
The Danes, it would seem, did not have all that bad a time of things, although things did get a little fraught in the latter years of the war: there was some sabotage, but not a huge amount to write home to Berlin about. It would also appear tha Danish Jews were deported, but had a special protected status. The museum wasn't trying to minimise the ordeal of occupation, but put it into the context of German colonisation of Eastern Europe. Outside the museum was a bizarre armoured car which saw some action against the ememy on 5th May 1945, acording to an inscription. That really must have been the final straw for Grand Admiral Doenitz...
So I went and found the mermaid, and spent no more than a token couple of minutes by it. Yes, she looks longingly out to the sea, but it's set in a completely ugly location, and she's just kind of...there. I walked back into town and had my photograph taken by the side of a statue of the present Danish queen's father, King Frederick. He was daubed with some graffitti and looked so forlorn and unloved....
Nyhaven was a pleasant area of the city, one I revisited this evening. It sits on a canal inlet and one side is bordered exclusively by bars and restaurants. I had a platter-style lunch in one of them, and, as I have trained myself to do, tried to forget about the cost. The herring was delicious, though.
I meandered for the rest of the day: taking in some jazz on the main square that wasn't too free-form, had a look around a photography exhibition in a former church depicting the Mexican upper class in all their sybaritic horror, and went up inevitably, the Round Tower observatory, a bizarre construction which consists of a twisting ramp instead of steps. A trifle more disorienting than your average tower but Copenhagen seems to specialise in baffling ways to ascend skywards..
One of the expected cliches that has just about materialised is the behaviour of your average Dane at traffic lights- they do rather tend to obey them even when they are far more likely to die of boredom than be knocked down by a speeding bicycle. They're not universally acknowledged, but occasionally I could feel the burning sensation of the hard stares of disapproving locals if I flouted the red man. Maybe it's best to do it the Danish way...perhaps all the traffic lights are monitored in a central police station and I'm going to be arrested as I make my escape to Sweden tomorrow.
I made one brief trip back to Christiania for a cup of coffee, where my guide from yesterday served me. Pusher Street, particularly as it was raining was not looking like the hash exchange of yore, and there was a section resembling a tented hospitality pavilion at a trade fair that served beers and various snacks. It looked a mite too regulated, and I don't think my guide was all that impressed with it.
As I drank my coffee, she offered me a cake, but I am sorry to report that no medicinal effects became apparent apparent. How sad. |
