Wonderful Copenhagen (and Bergen)
When I last wrote, I was on a train, beginning my scenic odyssey from Oslo to Bergen. Within a few hours of that post, I had transferred to a boat, riding through Norway’s famed fjords — and the rain held off long enough for me to enjoy the remarkable natural surroundings without getting wet.
I spent the rest of the trip in Bergen and Copenhagen, some of which I discuss below.
So after two fabulous weeks of visiting three countries with high standards of living, general happiness, low income inequality, trust in government, low crime rates, well-maintained infrastructure, intuitive public transportation systems, universal health care, social safety nets that are both robust and popular, and where climate change is taken seriously, I’m now back in the U.S., where we’re facing yet another government shutdown. So it goes.
Though I have to admit, after a couple days in Copenhagen, I found the city so colorful, orderly, and clean (almost as if it had been created with Instagram in mind), I started missing the grit, anger, and dysfunction of home. But then I ate another smørrebrød, took in the beauty around me, and got over it.
The Best…
…Tourist Experience I Had This Week
Hiking in the Mountains of Bergen, Norway
Probably the most memorable single experience of the trip occurred on a rainy Saturday in Bergen.
The second-largest city in Norway with about 270,000 inhabitants, Bergen has a much different feel than its big brother Oslo. It’s known for the seven mountains surrounding the city, offering natural beauty and a variety of outdoor activities.
Bergen is also known for rain. In fact, it’s regarded as the rainiest city in Europe, receiving the wet stuff around 250 days a year.
Feeling a little museum-ed out after a week in Stockholm and Oslo, I decided to roll the dice on the weather and book an all-day hiking trip in the mountains with a local guide named Cecilie.
Naturally, Saturday morning arrived and so did more rain. Fortunately for me, though, the other three people who had booked the experience bailed because of the weather, so I was on my own with Cecilie.
For five hours, we tramped up, down, and through three of the city’s mountains, negotiating rocky, muddy, and slippery terrain. Cecilie knew the route well, having lived her entire life in Bergen.
With all the clouds and fog, clear views of the city were scarce, but that just made us appreciate the brief moments of sun we received even more.
As we navigated the topography, Cecilie and I chatted about our respective countries and cultures, our histories, families, and travels. She pointed out areas where family members of hers and other Bergen residents had hidden from the Nazis during the German occupation in World War II.
After a few hours, we stopped for a lunch break at a cabin she owns, which has no electricity or running water. The conversation continued as I tried the Norwegian delicacy known as brunost (brown cheese) and we warmed up with hot beverages.
Soon enough, it was time to return to civilization. As we headed back down the mountain, I could sense that these woods were a spiritual place for Cecilie. They left a deep impression on me, too.
…Smurfs-related Music Moment I Had This Week
“Morning Mood” — by Edvard Grieg
Smurfs? In Norway? Hear me out.
I was on a walking tour of Bergen when the guide, a young woman named Josina, decided to show us some street art along a particular wall.
“Does anyone know who this is?” she asked.
A couple people said it was Einstein. It was not.
“It’s the famous nineteenth century Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg,” Josina informed us. “He was born in Bergen and lived most of his life here.”
I knew Grieg’s name. I’m pretty sure his face was among the many composers on the wall of Mrs. Shepler’s music room when I was in elementary school. But I couldn’t have told you any of the pieces he had written.
Josina then took out her phone and played us “Morning Mood” from Grieg’s Peer Gynt Suite.
“Oh!” I thought to myself. “That’s from The Smurfs!”
This was a strange connection to make. Yes, I was an avid watcher of the TV show when I was kid, and I may have gone as a Smurf for Halloween (more than once). But I probably hadn’t seen an episode of the show in more than 30 years.
Until this week, that is, when I watched “The Smurfs Springtime Special,” a Season 1 Easter episode that aired in August 1982. Why did I watch it? To see if the Grieg piece really was used in the show or if I was just imagining it.
The verdict: I’m not crazy. (Well, this newsletter item might prove otherwise.) Yes, Grieg’s “Morning Mood” pops up and represents Mother Nature, a recurring character who appeared throughout the run of the series.
I don’t know why, when Josina played that Grieg tune, my brain immediately associated it with The Smurfs — especially since it’s not even the show’s theme song. All I can say is that the human brain is mysterious indeed.
Being associated with little blue cartoon characters was probably not the legacy Grieg was hoping for, but better to have your work remembered for something Smurfy than not at all, right?
…Show Set in Copenhagen I Re-Watched This Week
“Honeydew” — The Bear, Season 2, Episode 4
Streaming on Hulu
A big inspiration for my taking this trip was the Danish TV series Borgen, which the senior executive editor of this newsletter, Jon P., recommended to me a year or so ago.
First airing in 2011, the show tells the story of a relatively obscure politician named Birgitte Nyborg (played by Sidse Babett Knudsen) who improbably becomes Denmark’s first female prime minister.
Following Birgitte’s life and career, we get insight into the contours of Danish government, gender and family politics, as well as the role of the news media. It’s a terrific show, and all four seasons are available on Netflix.
So Borgen kindled my initial interest in Denmark. But rather than revisit all of it while I was in Copenhagen, I went back to a different show — the “Honeydew” episode from the second season of The Bear.
Largely set in the Danish capital, the episode provided an excuse for the series to exhibit Copenhagen’s charms — while also showcasing actor Lionel Boyce as the gentle pastry chef Marcus and the skills of director Ramy Youssef (co-creator and star of the outstanding series Ramy).
While Season 2 episodes like “Fishes” and “Forks” garnered more attention when they first aired, I thought “Honeydew” was the most exquisite of them all. Not just because it offered an opportunity to escape the claustrophobia of the still-not-open new restaurant in Chicago, but also because we got to see and feel Marcus’s growth in one of the world’s food capitals.
When “Honeydew” aired, Marcus had come a long way from the wide-eyed bread baker he was at the start of Season 1. Now he’s such a respected member of the team that Carmy and Sydney decide to send him to Copenhagen to learn the finer points of being a high-end pastry chef from one of Carmy’s old colleague-rivals, Chef Luca (Will Poulter).
The trip requires Marcus to travel thousands of miles from his friends and family (including his terminally ill mother), forcing him to develop not just as a chef but also as a person.
Watching the episode again, now with first-hand knowledge of Copenhagen, I got a kick out of seeing the show visit some of the same locations that I did. (Yes, I walked by Noma and took photos. No, I did not have the opportunity to eat there. But I did dine at their burger place, POPL.)
“Honeydew” is infused with innocence and melancholy, largely setting it apart from the rest of The Bear’s manic tone. And the randomness of Marcus rescuing an unidentified Danish cyclist makes me hyperventilate with emotion every time. Plus: he gets to live on a houseboat!
Yes, there is heartache ahead for Marcus. And yes, after this episode, he returns to his role as a supporting player in the kitchen. But for these 30 minutes, he gets to be the star.
…Hygge-Inspiring Tune I Listened to This Week
“Wonderful Copenhagen” (1958) — The Dave Brubeck Quartet
If there is a central unifying concept to Danish culture, it’s something called hygge (pronounced “HOO-guh”). The word has no direct translation into English, but it’s variously explained as a feeling of coziness or comfort or an appreciation for the small things in life.
Hygge can come in various forms. It could be the feeling one gets from an intimate gathering of friends over a bottle of wine or eating a warm cardamom bun by the fire on a cold day or seeing two colorful townhouses next to each other on a charming street.
By its current definition, the term is said to date back to the 1500s, though the concept apparently goes back to the Middle Ages. Experts speculate that it comes from the idea of families and neighbors banding together to help each other through the long, cold Scandinavian winter.
Today, hygge serves as a partial explanation for why Danes are considered among the happiest people in the world, and it’s also a marketing tool that has gone global. The past decade has brought an avalanche of books on the concept, and all manner of products are promoted in the name of hygge.
Traveling alone made it hard for me to fully immerse myself in the inherent coziness of hygge, but I found the spirit in certain moments: while meeting a new friend at a wine bar, while looking at Danish modern furniture, while warming up in the sun after a cold dip in the Nyhavn River.
More than anything, listening to some of my favorite music while exploring the city gave me the feeling of hygge. One tune in particular stands out: “Wonderful Copenhagen,” written by Frank Loesser.
The song was originally released in 1953, sung by Danny Kaye. It was used in the film Hans Christian Andersen, in which Kaye plays the celebrated 19th century Danish writer of The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling, and many other stories.
The song was a hit in the UK but apparently didn’t take off in Denmark because Kaye sings the name of the capital city as “co-pen-HAH-gen” instead of the preferred “co-pen-HAY-gen.”
Five years after Kaye’s original was released, jazz pianist Dave Brubeck and his band were touring Europe, making a stop in the Danish capital. On March 5, 1958, the group performed “Wonderful Copenhagen,” in what is believed to be the only version of the song Brubeck ever recorded. I knew it from his compilation album The Great Concerts, so of course I cued it up on this trip.
The song is obscure today but would have been recognizable to Danes in 1958, and I think you can make out a bit of crowd reaction — locals must have been pleased and amused — when Paul Desmond plays the first few notes of the melody on his alto sax.
I listened to the tune quite a few times while strolling around Copenhagen, the conviviality and coziness of Brubeck’s group still matching the city’s hygge vibes, 65 years later.
Amazing trip!!