Copenhagen

May 24, 2009

Today was the first day off sea since we embarked on the cruise, which was two days ago. It’s been alright so far – I got upgraded to a suite upon check in and they put me right next to my parents’ suite, which was at the back of the ship. This section has the best views since you can see both sunrise and sunset, so that was nice. The ship is huge – 923 feet long with a passenger capacity of a staggering 2,300 and staff of over 1,200 spread out in hundreds of rooms over three acres of space.

You can’t really feel the motion of the ship at most times, except for a slight swaying every now and again. For some reason though things at the back of the ship jiggle around a teeny bit more, which was a little more than I was willing to put up with for 12 days, so I switched to a suite on the side of the ship. The views are lovely and the sea is calmer here, since the engines that churn the water leaving frothy streams of foam in their wake are stationed at the back, not the sides.

We sailed into Copenhagen at about 8 o’clock this morning. Priority disembarkation (it’s fun being treated special) meant that we could leave the ship well before the rush of passengers disembarking, and we were on our way at about 9. Copenhagen is a pretty city, but it certainly isn’t among Europe’s loveliest. It’s got all the requisites – stately old buildings, sprawling town squares and lots of greenery, but it seems to lack a certain spirit, even on a Sunday like today. Maybe it was the weather – first it was cold and grey, then it began to rain, which was followed by bouts of sunshine and drizzle through the day. It didn’t stop a marathon from going full swing ahead however and parts of the town were blocked to make way for the runners. It was about 12 degrees and people were jogging about in the tiniest of shorts. I don’t know how they do it!

One of Copenhagen’s most famous attractions is a statue of The Little Mermaid from the fairytale by Hans Christian Andersen (one of Denmark’s most famous exports, along with the ubiquitous café snack, the Danish roll). It was a present from Carlsberg (another famous Danish export) to the city of Copenhagen and was installed on the rocks of the port in 1913. I didn’t look at pictures of it before I left, and I probably should have, because it was a bit of a letdown. People go on about it so much that I expected a real work of art, but instead I saw a forlorn woman with serious posture problems perched on a rock looking all pensive. Fabulous.

Copenhagen has all sorts of sculptures around the city, as they were apparently quite the rage at the turn of the century. One of my favourites greets you as you’re walking down the port into the city. An angel with one arm holding a harp and the other reaching to the heavens, it’s been mounted to face East to greet the sun as it rises, a sight almost lost on a grey wintry morning like today. But just as we walked past it, the sun broke through the clouds and shone right down on it. It was the perfect image; an angel bathed in divine light. The sculptor knew what he was doing. I wish my picture did it justice, but the lighting coupled with my poor photography skills (amateurish at best) served only to produce this:

Denmark seems to have had a lot of copper handy at one point, because it features in all its public monuments.

Oxidised, it’s turned green, which lends it a sort of nicely aged look and adds a certain air of authenticity to its many sea-themed installations.

Denmark still has a royal family and their palace is spread out around the town square, although it’s smaller than most European royal homes. There’s a solitary guard that’s stationed outside one of the gates, although today’s guard looked a bit too young too do much besides march about with much pomp – that is, until a wayward tourist tried to take a picture with him and he snapped to pitbull mode and told him to stay at least three metres away from him at all times or else. I did manage to chat to him for a bit however – from a distance, of course, so we were sort of yelling at each other, but it was all very nice and polite regardless. He pointed out the Queen’s home to me, which was opposite the massive building he was guarding, which belongs to Prince Frederick. “He’ll be King soon,” he yelled, with a hint of pride. It was the only time during our conversation that he smiled. He must like his boss.

Tivoli is one of the world’s oldest amusement parks, and that’s where we were heading. There’s not much to see in Copenhagen besides that, the National Design Museum and the despondent mermaid, so we decided to walk to Tivoli to take in as much of Copenhagen as we could. It’s about half an hour away from the dock, but it took us about twice as long because of my mother’s predilection for whipping out her video camera for everything and anything. “That is the most interesting bird!” “Did you look at the carving on that building!” “Is that how they spell lawyer here?” and so on. It all began with her first video camera on our trip to Kenya in the early 90s. Video cameras were the hottest thing back then so we thought her enthusiasm would die down soon, but that was not to be. Interestingly enough though, in spite of the fact that my parents have been taking one or two long holidays every year for the last fifteen years, there’s little footage to prove it. We have no idea what my mum’s done with the countless hours of incessant filming through the years and we’re not sure we want to find out.

We managed to get to Tivoli at some point and it was a riot. Visitors who make a trip there expecting Disneyworld are sure to be sorely disappointed – Tivoli’s charm doesn’t lie in its groundbreaking rides, it lies in the fact that this is the granddaddy of amusement parks, the one that all modern amusement parks have modeled themselves on. Established in the 1800s, most of its rides are still wooden and slightly rickety, although I don’t know of any unfortunate incidents to have resulted from the fact. It’s uncomplicated without being simplistic and quaint without ever being twee and I loved it. There was a fairytale ride based on Hans Christian Andersen’s stories that had seats shaped like flying trunks (I almost spelt that drunks – imagine that! The Amazing Flying Drunks) and each turn had a new tale, replete with fabulous décor and wooden dolls, some singing. It’s a Small World, anyone? The similarities were striking.

I had so much fun at Tivoli. I don’t holiday with my parents much anymore and each time I do there are moments when I wonder if it was a good idea to tag along, since we like to do things at completely different paces – still, it’s turning out to be a pretty good trip. I may not get on fabulously with my parents all the time, but we seem to work quite well when we’re on holiday, which is nice.

On our way back, I came across a green and very dilapidated version of Michelangelo’s David.

This is one of my favourite pieces of art. The copy, as it turns out, once belonged to the king of Denmark and is now part of a museum that houses his vast collection of famous copies, all done in plaster of Paris. We went in to have a look. The museum was once a warehouse for an old Danish tea company and it was quite large, but I don’t think they made very good use of the space. The pieces, ranging from early Antiquity to late Renaissance, were scattered about the place haphazardly and until I came across the museum’s leaflet I thought they were for sale, because the place looked like an old shop. Still, there were some lovely pieces in there. They may not have been presented in the best way but they definitely served to whet my appetite for my proposed trip to Florence later this year. Here are some of my favourites:

Wouldn’t you want this guy guarding your house?

This is a lovely statue that’s missing a head, but I was drawn to it because of the sheer size of its wings. I love angels and anything that reminds me of them. I asked the man at the reception who this was meant to be, and he said it was the Greek goddess of sport. He said her name out loud and it sounded a bit like nee-kuh. I asked him to spell it, and guess what? It’s n-i-k-e. Just as this dawned on me, a Greek tourist who was listening in on our conversation told me that Nike, the Greek goddess of sport, is so named because the word means victory. I wonder why the guys at Nike didn’t tell me this when I visited them at their campus in Portland last year. If I worked for a company that had a cool name like that I’d want to tell everyone, especially the media.

Look how they defiled the poor Venus de Milo. Once the goddess of love, she was then relegated to some guy’s garden, spouting water from her boobs.

Here’s another David. I first saw the original at the Victoria & Albert in London. It was in a quieter room and I stopped to look at it because it’s quite an arresting piece. I thought it was by Michelangelo at first but then realized that it was by another Renaissance master, Donatello. When I went home and looked him up, I learnt that he was a huge fan of Michelangelo and was greatly influenced by his work. Look at the difference between this piece and Michelangelo’s version, the difference not just in size but stature, pose, physique, sheer magnetism, and it’s no surprise that when people think of David and Goliath in art, it’s Michelangelo’s version that comes to mind.

This is Lorenzo de Medici as depicted by Michelangelo, rather kindly I think. If portraiture and people’s accounts are anything to go by, Lorenzo de Medici represented a certain dichotomy in form and spirit – while he was said to possess a fine, gentle spirit and was a patron of the arts in the truest, purest sense of the word – we probably wouldn’t know who Michelangelo, among other artists, was if not for de Medici – his physical appearance left much to be desired. There’s a coin I remember seeing a picture of that depicted de Medici’s profile – hook nose, bulging eyes – and he was said to be very sickly. Here he looks young, robust, handsome, positively bursting with vitality. My guess is that when Michelangelo portrayed de Medici he aimed to depict his soul.

The Pieta – once again by Michelangelo. I’m a huge fan, can you tell? If there’s one word that stands out again and again with the Pieta, it is tenderness. It’s brilliant. I'd love to see the real thing in person.

We got back and had a light dinner - Copenhagen was an interesting city, but I don't feel that odd pull that certain places exert over you, when you visit once and you know that someday, somehow, you'll be back to continue what you know deep down can only be a budding love affair. Next stop - Tallinn, Estonia. It will be my first foray into Eastern Europe and who knows what that will be like? Will it be another love affair to rival that which I have with Florence, and Tuscany? Watch this space for more.