My flight was delayed three hours leaving New York. Instead of being dissappointed, though, I was really glad that I didn't have to rush eating dinner and getting to the airport. It rained, though. It rained so much in New York that my jacket and shoes were soaked before the trip even began. I shivered as the bus wound its way through Queens to the airport.
The plane finally took off from a foggy JFK, and since I landed in Copenhagen three hours late, I avoided the rain that dampened the city earlier in the morning. It rains on and off here all spring, but today seems to be shaping up to be a mostly sunny. This city, with its bikes and its chilly weather, is quite nice. I've heard Copenhagen described as a big city that still feels small and humble, which certainly feels accurate. There is a strong culture built around cycling. It seems as though there are as many bikes as there are cars, and people were even biking yesterday as really strong winds whipped through the city.
The Danish word hygge (pronounced hoo-guh), is often translated as cozy, though it has no direct translation in English. It's the nice, comfortable feeling the Danes (well, anyone) feel when spending an evening in with friends and family or curled up by a fire during the cold Nordic nights. So many things here just feel so... hygge. The restaurant I ate fried pork in last night was warm and cozy and hygge. The hostel common room, with its earthy wood tables and friendly travelers like me is hygge. This whole city, really, radiates a homely hygge feeling.
The coziness doesn't come free, however. Copenhagen is the most expensive place I've ever visited, largely because of the high taxes on just about everything. While the taxes support fantastic social and infrastructural systems that I only wish America has - things like entirely publically funded college education for all and separated bike lanes running alongside every street - it's sometimes hard to appreciate these structures when the bill at a rather modest restaurant costs $40.
The hostel here is fantastic. The other people staying here are very friendly, and I've spent hours conversing and playing cards with folks from Germany, Turkey, and Engand. That, for me, can be the difference between a really good stay or a not-so-good stay. If I can chat with other travelers about how their world works and how their country functions differently from the United States, I'm having a really good time.
The plane finally took off from a foggy JFK, and since I landed in Copenhagen three hours late, I avoided the rain that dampened the city earlier in the morning. It rains on and off here all spring, but today seems to be shaping up to be a mostly sunny. This city, with its bikes and its chilly weather, is quite nice. I've heard Copenhagen described as a big city that still feels small and humble, which certainly feels accurate. There is a strong culture built around cycling. It seems as though there are as many bikes as there are cars, and people were even biking yesterday as really strong winds whipped through the city.
The Danish word hygge (pronounced hoo-guh), is often translated as cozy, though it has no direct translation in English. It's the nice, comfortable feeling the Danes (well, anyone) feel when spending an evening in with friends and family or curled up by a fire during the cold Nordic nights. So many things here just feel so... hygge. The restaurant I ate fried pork in last night was warm and cozy and hygge. The hostel common room, with its earthy wood tables and friendly travelers like me is hygge. This whole city, really, radiates a homely hygge feeling.
The coziness doesn't come free, however. Copenhagen is the most expensive place I've ever visited, largely because of the high taxes on just about everything. While the taxes support fantastic social and infrastructural systems that I only wish America has - things like entirely publically funded college education for all and separated bike lanes running alongside every street - it's sometimes hard to appreciate these structures when the bill at a rather modest restaurant costs $40.
The hostel here is fantastic. The other people staying here are very friendly, and I've spent hours conversing and playing cards with folks from Germany, Turkey, and Engand. That, for me, can be the difference between a really good stay or a not-so-good stay. If I can chat with other travelers about how their world works and how their country functions differently from the United States, I'm having a really good time.
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