I pulled the blankets off like an orange peel, slowly sauntered to the bathroom once my wife finished and made her way to see Katerine. One pant leg nestled tightly, a quick glance out the window to check the weather report... yup cloudy and slight drizzel, I then made my way to the breakfast table and awaited the morning news.
"I have got our day all figured out" my wife said enthusiastically. "Oh ok sounds good" I replied, as my eyes gravitated toward a bread basket, cheese, and a French press container of coffee.
"We'll make our way to this park!"
Uh huh... (beer).
"Then we'll see if this museum is open."
Yeah... (beer).
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| View of Copenhagen from the Rundetårn |
K.... (beer, food,)
"then we go here... that should give us time for lunch and some shopping, which you can figure out"
I just nod uh huh yup sounds great we're rolling... where is the sugar anyway?
It's often like this when I travel with my wife. Everything is planned before I even get out of bed. I roll with the punches, and make a note of anything before hand if it's something I really want to see and do, but for the most part when travelling together it works out perfectly. My mind drifts towards drink and food, aside from the fact my wife digs the eating spots I pick, dragging her to the beer spots and shops is not something I wish to put anyone through if they are not really into beer. She doesn't mind some of it, and does like some beer, but she is not into drink like I am. No I am not a beer geek. And yes I have been called one, but my life and tastes dictate more than just that. But if Blabaer and a plethora of new beers are around the corner, it's going to be hard for me to stop thinking about it.
I sometimes think about what she must go through with me and my beer journeys. However, someone perfectly summed it up here, so I'll leave it at that. I am probably not as crazy as that guy for the record... but I did drive my wife crazy dragging her around Montreal so I could get some decent bagels. "If you don't stop talking about these dam bagels, and just get them, I will murder you right here.. " she said to me once.
We were sitting down while Katerine was working to get us breakfast. It was quite obvious that the morning meal in Denmark is different than it is back home. First off I could barely figure out where the fridge was since it was so small. It was ground level, which was perfect for Magnus so he could walk in at eye level, and grab his own glass of milk. Pretty cool.
The table was simply filled with bread, cheese, and sandwiches to make at your own pleasure. I loved the simplicity of this, the fry pan never went on, and there was no bowl of cereal to spill (although it could be done).
I was pouring myself coffee, while Magnus occasionally sat with his toys and nibbled here and there. He was a typical two year old, but was very well behaved. We also noticed that he was easily entertained at times with his toys, which compared to most toys parents buy their kids back home didn't require batteries for starters.
While taking some coffee, I was hoping that Katerine would at least get a break from us on top of the usual dealings of a busy two year old. I always get nervous in situations where hosts are handling a lot even though Katerine was extremely grateful to have us visiting. We would be heading out on our own as I mentioned to Katerine and I asked what she was up to.
“Oh well Magnus has to go to daycare shortly. So I just take him every morning and drop him off.”
Really?
Yes.
You’re unemployed and the state gives you free daycare?
Yes?
Well I also have 2 years of unemployment, but the state handles it.
(me with my jaw dropping) Really?
Yes
And you have a 2 year old?
Yes
I turned to my wife, “So can we move here?”
It turns out that there is an interesting flipside to Denmark’s high taxes, which includes a bonanza of social services that are available to its citizenry. Health care, day care, unemployment insurance, maternity leave, free tuition at universities, it is quite fascinating. Katerine like some Danes is looking for a job while occasionally doing some temp work. There was no sense here at all, or with any other Danes that they are just “trying to game the system” or milking it, but are in a cycle that happens to many in the country. But man if you are unemployed with a kid, Denmark is the place to be I say…
If I am reading this right and from what I saw, Denmark has an economic model in which a good portion of the population go through a period of job unemployment and transition. The model is called “flexicurity”, where if I understand this correctly, a portion of the working populaces jobs are overturned so that others can move up the ladder or into the workforce. The flipside is there is a longer social safety net for those who are removed from the labor pool, giving them enough time when the cycle goes around and they can get rehired. About 25% of Danish private sector workers change jobs each year.
I think that’s the theory and how it is supposed to work… “In theory” of course.
I find this absolutely fascinating, and more so having a harder time believing that this actually works. Unemployment is higher in Denmark than it is in the United States, but what would you care if the government then seems to provide you everything? I grew up in Canada, and it has social services which are far better than the United States, but it has nothing on a Scandinavian country like Denmark in comparison. Heck in the United States we’re still struggling over health care even now.
But somehow this is how their society functions. Where does the money come from? They got lots of oil right? Right? I dunno.. But when you take one look around and see how people are living it’s no wonder Danes like to remark they are the happiest in the world.
Before we headed out Katerine had already put out more lunch meat, spreads, and bread on the table. “You must pack a lunch!” she blurted quickly while trying to get Magnus’s shoes on.
My wife and I hadn't thought about this, and I know often in Europe lunch can be the biggest meal of the day, but we were just normally going to grab a bite during our lunch period while out on the town. That’s pretty much what we do anytime we travel. So taking Katerine’s word, we grabbed the aluminum foil, made a few metal tin softballs and headed out.
*-*-*
Copenhagen’s pulse is astounding. It’s a city that breathes and moves in a fashion unlike any other I have witnessed. It’s incredibly clean, the buses, trams, subway, rail cars all seem to arrive on time, the wet populace gets around on bike paths with the sounds of a slithering wet snake moving at high speeds. The city has a quiet hum, there aren't a lot of car horns, just a lot of soft wet footsteps splashing against the cobblestone gray pavements. Even walking around many of the areas, there didn't seem to be anyone loitering around. There were no panhandlers, street kids, homeless people? I couldn't even find any.
We worked up an appetite checking out much of the area and the surrounding boroughs. Flat, easy to get to, well connected, walking a lot really stoked up our hunger. I had already done a minor beer run in the few grocery stores I passed. Even here it was the most reasonable, but large prices still stood out. Shops and windows my wife and I walked by sort of had us in disbelief, but none so much as the furniture store we just had to take a look at.
Once again my wife saw a couch and mid century like modern furniture in a nice corner window store of a building. So of course… we had to go in… right… who am I kidding?
“Like we look like the kind of people who are going to actually buy this stuff right?” I joked with my wife
“I just want to take a look” she said. "Besides we have bought this stuff once before hmmm??"
“Yeah that’s what you always say”.
A well dressed Danish blonde woman came out and said in perfect English if we needed any help, her designer shoes cascading and with a slow click on the perfect hard wood practically pointing right at us.
“No we’re just looking” my wife said.
It was one of those classic downtown to joint edge stores, the ones that exist in trendy neighborhoods filled with young singles who have more money than they know what to do with or something. The ones where the price of an item is on some tiny folded card, or little cute wood block, apparently made as small as possible so that it won’t detract from the furniture’s appearance or something.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” I said to my wife after I looked over everything in the store in about 5 minutes with a circular walking motion. Which really translated into “The hell I am buying anything in this place so I aint wasting my time looking around at it” kind of response.
My wife came out shortly afterwards and remarked with a sly smirk on her face, “That tiny end table was $2200 dollars”.
“Yeah… no kidding…” (groan) “I am sure it would probably cost another $1000 to ship it to our house… makes sense to me…” I sighed.
Who in this country is buying this stuff, or can afford it? I kept asking myself.
The feeling of cost never seemed to escape us shortly after we arrived. All the food places I had marked out on Google maps in my preparation, many we passed along the way seemed like nobody was eating in them. Off season? Lunch plate items seemed to translate into 20, 30 dollars per person for just simple items. We found a great market, with awesome shops, and a smørrebrød place I was keen on. But one look at the costs and we just sort of wondered how the heck do people survive here? Gone were my smørrebrød places, walking to cafes with killer Danish pastries in the morning with coffee, no seafood dinners in the Southern end of the city I was so highly excited about. It all went up in a puff of smoke before my eyes.
“Let's eat our sandwiches,” I quickly remarked as I pointed to a park bench that looked comfy to my wife. “That's a great idea” she said.
We sat in a park bench, and admired that we didn't seem to be alone in our solitary lunch of wrapped ham and cheese. As I looked around, I saw many a tinfoil carrying people eating sandwiches. Families on park benches, women pulling them out of their purses, kids and parents bunkered down around wrappings. It seemed like this was par for the course for Danes when it came to eating out. We were fitting in nicely. Sitting with the Danes in a sandwich break seemed like a communal bonding experience, making for one tasty ham and cheese sandwich.
After more cavorting and sightseeing, we made our way back to Katerine's place.
"It's so good to see you again! Would you like a beer, I have some?!"
"Oh hell yes" I said, even though my bag was filled with a few interesting beers I was keen on digging into, the old adage never escaped my brain,,,
NEVER TURN DOWN A DRINK FROM YOUR HOST..... EVER!!!!
Katerine provided me with a well known brew from Carlsberg that I was not so aware of that they make called Tuborg Classic. It's a pretty easy drinking brew, commonly available, but I have never seen it locally where I live from them unlike their regular brew. It's surprisingly reminds me very much like Yuengling stateside but better. Inoffensive, nothing crazy impressive, but a solid drinker. Sort of the Danish go to of Sam Adams Boston Lager, in my opinion that's what I think.
Katerine had much of this and I started pounding these with reckless abandon, since after all... there was a job do to here for me and I was not going to do it half ass.
Still there was still many goodies of my own design I was destined to jump into. One that I grabbed was a Limfjords Porter. This porter has one of the ingredients that I was quite surprised to find in many beers. That ingredient simply was black licorice, a treat that seems to be pretty common in Denmark, and that perhaps they take pride in. (Although when I landed in Germany and told people about Danes and licorice they had different ideas about where the best was made... Germany... Holland... pick your battles...).
The heck you say there isn't enough great tasting beer to go around. Limfjords manages to maintain a mild porter quality with just a hint of black licorice. Tongue stained? Not so much.
Denmark's other non mass produced beers seemed quite abundant. There were beers from Nørrebro Bryghus, Svaneke rounded out some other interests as well. We settled down with a simple meal, and Magnus' fascination with some Lego and a carving knife.
"Can I have the knife?" my wife asked Magnus with the touch of delicateness that only a fine woman can wield.
Magnus almost stopped in a trance and handed her the blade, transfixed by her gaze and delicate words. The acknowledgement of the English language was not lost on this young warrior. English is much used in Denmark and taught in schools, even Katerine spoke English around Magnus the entire time we were around. It was obvious many times that he sort of knew what we were saying at times, but never once in English did he respond to us. However, his touch and gaze gave us a wink and comfort that somehow we were both on the same wavelength. We understood each other, in this crazy beautiful world.
"It's like he knows what we are saying!" my wife mentioned to Katerine in astonishment.
"I am going to put together some of these Lego sets!" I said to Katerine, delicately proportioning the oversized younger blocks into an aeroport that could mimic a tarmac longer than the biggest bike path in Denmark.
However, as much as we enjoyed ourselves, my wife could see I was getting anxious, and we didn't have much time left in town either. I told her we absolutely had to go to Ølbutikken tomorrow, to see if I could find a bottle of Cantillon Blabaer. She agreed, and she knew this meant a lot to me, but for now we nestled into bottles of wine, and fists of Tuborg Classic as the rain never seemed to end.
I had other stops along the way too... but the hunt would have to continue in earnest tomorrow.
The heck you say there isn't enough great tasting beer to go around. Limfjords manages to maintain a mild porter quality with just a hint of black licorice. Tongue stained? Not so much.
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| A simple haul at a grocery and a specialty store. Good Belgians too! |
"Can I have the knife?" my wife asked Magnus with the touch of delicateness that only a fine woman can wield.
Magnus almost stopped in a trance and handed her the blade, transfixed by her gaze and delicate words. The acknowledgement of the English language was not lost on this young warrior. English is much used in Denmark and taught in schools, even Katerine spoke English around Magnus the entire time we were around. It was obvious many times that he sort of knew what we were saying at times, but never once in English did he respond to us. However, his touch and gaze gave us a wink and comfort that somehow we were both on the same wavelength. We understood each other, in this crazy beautiful world.
"It's like he knows what we are saying!" my wife mentioned to Katerine in astonishment.
"I am going to put together some of these Lego sets!" I said to Katerine, delicately proportioning the oversized younger blocks into an aeroport that could mimic a tarmac longer than the biggest bike path in Denmark.
However, as much as we enjoyed ourselves, my wife could see I was getting anxious, and we didn't have much time left in town either. I told her we absolutely had to go to Ølbutikken tomorrow, to see if I could find a bottle of Cantillon Blabaer. She agreed, and she knew this meant a lot to me, but for now we nestled into bottles of wine, and fists of Tuborg Classic as the rain never seemed to end.
I had other stops along the way too... but the hunt would have to continue in earnest tomorrow.
