Copenhagen: City of Spires

Tom and Jim had an inexpensive dinner after their time at the Lion’s Club and finalized their strategy for traveling together without driving each other crazy. They would skip the expensive guided tours, which were major budget busters. Instead, each would consult his own travel guide to pick the sites they wanted to see. If their choices meshed, great. If not, they would separate for the day and meet together at dinner—or later—to share their experiences.

With that settled, they decided to check out Copenhagen at night. They came to a discotheque with a line of people about their age waiting to get in. Half an hour and twelve kroner later, they found themselves in a whirlwind of strobe lights and thumping music. They pushed their way to the bar, a highly polished affair that stretched the entire width of the venue. Tom struck up a conversation with two guys from Great Britain, but how they conversed with Donna Summer and “Love to Love You Baby” blasting out over the speakers was beyond Jim.

After a few excellent beers, they decided to call it a night. But on their way out, a young woman sharing a table with another woman called out, “Do you speak American?” Soon, she and her friend were sharing drinks and peppering Tom and Jim with questions: “How do you like Copenhagen?” and “Where in the U.S. do you live?” “How long will you visit in Copenhagen?”

The women were friendly and attractive, and Tom and Jim were starting to wonder just what might be in store for the rest of the evening—until one of them asked, “How old are you?”

Tom answered and returned the question. 

“Fifteen,” she replied.

Tom and Jim glanced at each other. The unspoken thought: “Between this and the Lion’s Club, we definitely need to up our bar game.” After a few polite farewells,  they headed back to Hotel Absolom.

The next morning, Tom decided to return to the Strøget, a part of the city that had caught his eye on the bus tour the previous day. When he entered the area, a pedestrianized zone consisting of five winding streets in the heart of the city center, he felt that he had finally stepped into the essence of a true European city—where people mattered more than cars.

As he meandered through the area, he was struck by the apparent high quality of city life for people of all ages, a stark contrast to many cities in the United States. Bike paths were an integral part of the urban landscape, allowing people of all ages to pedal safely through the streets. The streets and sidewalks were impeccably clean, and the cars—smaller than the American-style gas guzzlers—were well-maintained. Lovely parks, gardens, canals, and lakes encircled the downtown area. His wanderings also led him to Christiania, a former industrial area now transformed into a community of adults seeking personal freedom to pursue life's pleasures and interests. Artists, free spirits, and hippies enjoyed life on their own terms. The culture seemed years ahead of the USA in accepting alternative expressions of life. And the city felt safe: People of all ages walked around the town at all hours. Tom felt that Copenhagen's urban life was balanced, people-oriented, and allowed its citizens to truly enjoy life. This first impression became the benchmark against which Tom would compare the many other European and Asian cities they would eventually visit.

Tom was also struck by the openness of Danish society. Pornography shops were as common as coffee shops on Strøget, and sex and its promotion seemed normalized. Marijuana was sold openly in stores and little cafes, offering a wide variety of options. This was unheard of in the States back in 1977.

As for Jim, he had left the Hotel Absolom with no particular destination in mind. He wandered the streets, stopping now and then to sit and people-watch and scribble in his journal. He also visited the Strøget, but more by happy accident than a planned destination. Like Tom, he found himself a bit wide-eyed at all the adult bookstores, explicit posters, and theaters advertising live sex shows. This was a far cry from the theater in downtown Cleveland, the “Roxy,” which—as Jim had heard but could not verify from personal experience, of course--featured rather tame burlesque-type strip shows.

Jim spent most of the day in Frederiksberg Garden, Copenhagen’s largest park, where he met more Americans than Danes. A guitar-wielding young woman with a dazzling smile introduced herself as a “Child of God” and asked if Jim could spare some money to help her bring others “closer to the source.”

“What’s the source?” Jim asked.

“You’ll know it when you get there.”

Jim begged traveler’s poverty. Later, a couple with the U.S. flag sewn to their backpacks apparently mistook him for a native and asked for directions to the palace. Jim told them that he had only arrived in the city the night before. He expected a friendly greeting and perhaps some tales of the road, but the couple merely thanked him and continued on their way.

The only Dane Jim spoke with that day was one outside the train station--Kobenhavns Hovedbanegard—where he waiting for Tom so they could catch the overnight train to Stockholm. She was short, blond, and wore an extremely mini miniskirt.

“American?” she asked.

Jim smiled and nodded. It would be nice to chat while waiting, he thought. Maybe learn a little bit more about life in Copenhagen from an actual citizen. And wouldn’t Tom be impressed to find him chatting with a pretty young local.

“Want sex?” she asked.

Jim decided to wait for Tom inside the station.

***

That was Then. Now for the NOW:
Reflections 50 Years Later on
"Copenhagen:City of Spires

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