Last weekend, John and I flew to Denmark for a friend's wedding. En route to Nyborg, where the wedding was taking place, we stopped off in Copenhagen ('natch), where John had been before but I hadn't. I think it might be the coolest city in the world - without even trying.
After an early morning flight via
We marveled at the fresh fish counter and settled for an antipasti tray, garlic bread (with cloves baked directly into the loaf), and glass of cold house white for each of us to munch on outside, while we people watched the rest of the afternoon away. Trust me, there are some gorgeous and very stylish Danes on the street, who could easily pass for The Sartorialist's and Facehunter's muses. Two words: silk jumpsuits. Drool.
I'm pretty sure the presence of bikes - lovely ones with baskets and children piled on top of one another in attached, canopied carts - significantly boosts Copenhagen's cool factor. I mean, look at the storefront above. So chic, no? And everywhere you look are Scandinavian furniture shops that feature impossibly cool lights, cool chairs - cool everything. Those blankets in the shop window above? Do want. All of them.
Despite our laziness and dragging feet, we even fit in a (highly enjoyable) trip to the historic Round Tower, or Rundetarn - Christian IV's 17th-century architectural dream. Walking into the gallery space above (halfway up the tower, which, btw, is nearly almost completely paved i.e. no stairs so that Christian IV could apparently ride his horse-drawn carriage to the very top - diva, no?) was like walking into a really lovely, pleasant dream. Featuring ceramics, pillow cushions, and even knitted couture inspired by the sea, the gallery also served as a nice little break from the Tower tour.
I loved the laid-back, chilled-out vibe of Copenhagen. Everyone was friendly, but not overly friendly. Everyone was stylish but not try-hard. Did I mention that everything is also VERY EXPENSIVE? Yikes. That's my main gripe. Otherwise, I'd be popping over every other weekend.