Legos and Lingerie

The Copenhagen airport welcomes international travelers with the requisite well-stocked duty free shop and scores of recognizable stores. Legos originated in Denmark and the flagship airport represents the brand well. Adjacent to the Legos store was Lingerie, a juxtaposition that delighted my children. "Legos and lingerie, Mom! Do we have any extra kronors?"

The title and visual stuck in my head, but what the stores embodied was the evolution of a Europe I saw as extremely different from the United States back in my first trip (1992) to one that maintains many striking similarities with this country in 2023. While the native citizens of the countries we traveled to could usually peg us as Americans within 5 seconds of our opening our mouths, we occasionally were greeted in Swedish or Danish by someone who couldn't tell we were tourists (yay! victory). 

In Stockholm, an ironworker artist spoke to me in Swedish for several minutes while I smiled and nodded away. My daughter finally intervened and told him we only spoke English (well, Spanish too, but that was irrelevant); she asked me later why I didn't say anything and I explained that I was so delighted to be perceived as a native that I hadn't the heart to stop him. (In Iceland, they knew immediately who we were and never expected to communicate in Icelandic). 

When I went around Europe as a college junior, our teeth and tennis shoes gave us away. Now everyone wears New Balance, Brooks, Nike, or Hoka, and good teeth flashed from smiles everywhere. For the true world traveler, Europe was never so different from the United States and it's quite possible that 30 years of experience has just given me new eyes to see and appreciate this, but I also believe the global community has grown more similar - whether due to capitalism and big brands, converging national interests or pressing global problems I couldn't say, exactly. 

What I do know: traveling with our children tells them that the world is big and beautiful and that people have much in common wherever we go. They now know that they can move through most areas of the world with some degree of familiarity and are not afraid of embracing bigger and better travel adventures. 

Personally, viewing the gorgeous coastline of Norway for the first time - with its fjords and inland mountains - made the ticket from Copenhagen to Reykjavik completely worthwhile. And then while traveling from Reykjavik to Denver, viewing the stark and extremely high mountains of Greenland emerging through scattered clouds into a deep blue sky made my heart soar. Seeing completely new vistas, learning new things, recognizing profound similarities and bonds with citizens of the world, all make travel the best adventure I know.

Copenhagen and the Bubble

Copenhagen brings to mind bicycles and babies. From the minute we departed the airport to the time we left the city, our eyes were bedazzled by the number of cyclists on the city streets. Cyclists have their own raised and separated lanes and move confidently through the most crowded parts of Copenhagen on their minimalist cycles, some helmeted and some not, almost all wearing ear pods. Rush hour pedestrians studiously obeying the walk signs - an incursion at the wrong time means dodging both cars and bikes.

Also, babies. According to an article I read shortly before our trip, Copenhagen is one of the ten best places to live in the world and families there seemed to be making up for the declining birth rate (falling in Scandinavia as it is in the rest of the developed world). We saw every version of baby carriage on the streets and babies attached to the front and back of bikes in carts or on special seats. It was a special attraction to just stand near a popular intersection and observe children in their element, elbows out and jostling through tourists as easily as their parents.

What else about Denmark? Design of course, on which they pride themselves. We ran into a friendly Dane outside of our rented apartment, name of John, who proudly informed us that both his sister and his brother-in-law had designs in the DesignMuseum. Had we seen them? We had, the day prior. How many other museums were we going to see? We didn't have the heart to tell him that we would be leaving the next morning with no new museums on the horizon. Just look at the street lamps, he said, and gestured overhead to the brown lamps strung over the bike lanes. We nodded dutifully and expressed our appreciation.

John went on to tell us about the "Danish bubble" he lived in (his words), and their conservative-liberal politics. He explained that the country's homogeneity makes political agreement easy, and he expressed sympathy with the lack of such accord in the States. His wife is American, and he lives part of the year in Florida. He exclaimed over the 12 years it took her to get Danish citizenship and pointed out that they didn't let many people in. Hence the free medical care and university. "But it's a small country," he noted, "so we can do that. We don't have anything like your state governments and your range of diverse opinions."

True. I listened to him defend the U.S. to us and mused over the contradictions he presented, i.e. that one could be socialist only if one drew the line sharply at who would be cared for. He noted that the Danish pride themselves on appearances, which we observed in the fashionable apparel on the streets and would have seen in the home of every Dane (said John), had we been admitted.

We enjoyed the glimpse into Denmark's history, populated with old monarchs, Viking conquest, and ancient spats with the Baltic Sea neighbors. Kronberg Castle, the inspiration for Shakespeare's castle in Hamlet, was a rare treat. When we entered the enormous ballroom, a chamber music group sang old chorales that echoed against the tapestries and arched roofs. The signs explaining each room were the best-written attraction insights we had ever seen, and Sweden was so close across the strait that our cell phones welcomed us to that country before we ever set foot in it. Daniel proclaimed Hamlet's famous monologue, "to be, or not to be..." in the courtyard.

After paying homage to the graves of Kierkegaard, Hans Christian Andersen, and Niels Bohr and stocking up on a few fashion pieces we were ready to head to Stockholm, Denmark not quite grabbing our imaginations in the same way that Iceland had just a few days prior. But it left an imprint nonetheless and sparked many a good conversation with the kids on politics, design and literature at the long table in our rented kitchen.