THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 20, 1995 TAG: 9508220479
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY STEPHEN HARRIMAN, TRAVEL EDITOR
LENGTH: Long : 310 lines
WHAT A FUN PLACE, this Copenhagen. Forget all that William Shakespeare told you about Prince Hamlet, the brooding, melancholy Dane. I hate to say this, but I believe the man was just out to write a sex-and-violence-and-intrigue thriller.
Melancholy, ha! Not in Denmark, not in Copenhagen.
Uptight Germans come to Denmark to unwind and relax. Last week a German woman, who said she spends her holidays wandering the sparsely populated Atlantic Coast beaches of Denmark looking for amber, told me she could tell - actually feel it - when she crossed the border from Germany to Denmark.
I am beginning to understand what she meant.
For several hours I have been strolling the Stroget, the collective name for five connecting streets in the heart of Copenhagen that form, Copenhagers say, the world's longest pedestrian street. I have not come across melancholy yet.
This I have seen: A jazz band marching through the thick crowds of shoppers and ice cream eaters; another jazz combo, perhaps an impromptu ensemble of street musicians, playing to an appreciative audience in a market square beside a spraying fountain; a third jazz band setting up in a tented pavilion in front of a church; assorted fiddlers and flutists and glockenspielers doing individual gigs for a few spare krones tossed into a cloth cap; a one-man band competing for attention with the backgammon players beside the Holy Ghost Church. All this I have seen, plus sidewalk cafes filled with lunchers and lookers; hundreds of bicycles, some parked and some pedaled; a juggler, a mime and a skateboard showoff attempting to roll his way through a maze of obstacles, standing on his hands.
At one end of Stroget, in Kongens Nytorv park under the shade of linden trees, I watched people getting what were advertised as ``energi massages'' - right out in public - for about $25.
Each time, when it was over, the person would get up, smile what I thought was a sort of sheepish smile, and say, ``That was nice.''
Well, what did I expect? I guess I'd like to have heard just one of them say, ``Boy, was I ever taken for a fool . . . and right here in public, too.''
Anyway, no melancholy here. Only uninhibited fun. Just another ordinary summer day in Copenhagen.
Hamlet aside - and he's mostly legend anyway - the Danes seem to be an outgoing people (but not pushy or assertive, mind you) with a quick wit who love fun. Even their graffiti appears to have a whimsical and even slightly artistic touch to it. We can thank Denmark for Victor Borge and Legos. They're fun.
Matter of fact, the Danes invented fun. Well, in its packaged form, anyway. Bet you thought Walt Disney did.
Actually, Disney got his idea for what was to become Disneyland and Walt Disney World and all the rest when he visited Tivoli Gardens, the world's oldest amusement park.
Tivoli was the early 19th century creation of Danish entrepreneur Georg Carstensen . . . with the blessing of King Christian VIII. Carstensen got the idea from visiting now long defunct amusement parks in London and Paris. He mentioned to the king that ``people engaged in fun do not engage in politics.'' Or overthrow kings. The king liked that.
Carstensen proclaimed that ``Tivoli is for everybody, rich as well as poor'' - a pretty revolutionary concept in Europe in 1834. But on opening day, Aug. 15, 3,625 people turned out. The next Sunday the crowd exceeded 10,000. The rest is history.
There have been nearly 300 million visitors since that opening day. Nine of every 10 foreigners in Copenhagen go to Tivoli, although 60 percent if its visitors are Danes.
Today it is the seventh most-visited park - a remarkable fact in that it covers only its original 22 acres (it would fit in a corner of the main parking lot at Disney World) and it is open only five months of the year.
But let's come back to Tivoli later. It's even more fun at night in all its incandescent glory. More than 110,000 electric light bulbs (but absolutely NO neon) make it an especially magical place.
Right now there are sights to see and shops to lighten the wallet.
Make for a tall place, if you can, in every city you visit for the first time. Get the lay of the land. In Copenhagen the Rundertarn (Round Tower) is not the tallest (only 143 feet) place for a panorama of the city's remarkably low skyline and distinctive green copper spires, but it's the most interesting.
The tower was erected in 1642 by King Christian IV as part of what is now the oldest college in Denmark. Its primary function was as an astronomical observatory (today it is the oldest still functioning in Europe), but connected to it are a Baroque students' church and a library.
There's no elevator, but the ascent is easy by way of a 686-foot-long spiral ramp, said to be unique in European architecture, originally designed to transport heavy equipment for astronomical observations.
The story is told here that in 1716 Czar Peter the Great rode up, accompanied by his wife, in a six-in-hand coach. I don't believe that would be possible, given the width and spiral of the ramp, but if I were a czar I'd probably give it a whirl myself.
Copenhagen's most picturesque sight is Nyhavn, the 300-year-old ``new harbor'' - once a sailors' quarters. This is your basic Kodak moment. Along each side of the canal, choked with restored old sailing vessels and modern tour barges, are mostly 18th century buildings now restored, their edifices richly painted yellow, red, orange, pink, white, blue and so on. You can still get a tattoo here, but most people come for food and drink, sun and music.
If you've ever tried to watch the Changing of the Guard at London's Buckingham Palace and come away more than a little frustrated by the crowds and the fences, try Copenhagen.
The Danish Guards' coats are blue instead of red, but the hats - those grand bearskin busbies that make those guys look 10-feet tall - are the same. They're just as formal and precise, but in the enormous courtyard at Amalienborg Palace, you can get just about as up-close-and-personal as you'd ever want. No fences here.
Do keep in mind: These are guards, not toy soldiers; they have responsibilities and duties, foremost that of protecting their queen, Margarethe II, and her family, and they take them as seriously as soldiers anywhere. Watch, take pictures; don't get in the way.
Some of the official and private rooms of this Rococo palace, since 1794 the royal residence, have been open to the public for more than a year to show the royal lifestyle of the Glucksborg family from 1863-1947.
The highlight is the period devoted to the long reign (1863-1906) of King Christian IX and Queen Louise. Interesting couple. Some have called them the ``parents-in-law'' to European monarchy.
From this ``love match'' (Hans Christian Andersen wrote the words to their wedding song) came: daughter Alexandra, who married Edward VII of England: daughter Dagmar, who married Czar Alexander III of Russia; the crown prince who became King Frederik VIII; another son who became king of Greece; yet another son who declined the throne of Bulgaria. Next generation, a grandson became king of Norway.
Another much-visited palace is Christianborg, a massive 18th century edifice built on the site of the fortress where Copenhagen was founded in 1167. This has been the seat of the Danish parliament since 1918 and the place where the royals do their business as well.
I happened to see the car of the Crown Prince Frederik - a Toyota Land Cruiser with its special royal license plate No. 6 - parked in a lot just like regular people would do. Not a lot of pomp and circumstance here.
Stroget must mean shopping. I should have asked. Remember, that's the name given to the mile-long pedestrian street. What a delightful array of quality stores line its zig-zag path - along with the inevitable souvenir shops and fast-food outlets.
Two of Europe's top department stores are here - Magasin du Nord and Illum - and, facing Amagertorv, one of Copenhagen's oldest and most beautiful squares, are the interconnected stores of Royal Copenhagen Porcelain, Royal Copenhagen Antiques, Georg Jensen Silver and Illums Bolighus, the latter specializing in very upscale houseware and furniture as well as fashions and accessories for women and men.
I watch a woman hand-painting the blue fluted pattern - an elegant rendering of the chrysanthemum originating in China - on a dinner plate just as her predecessors have done since 1775.
Well, almost. The design is the same and she was using the traditional cow-hair brush she had tapered to a fine point. The water for the paint still comes from Denmark, of course, but the royal blue cobalt dye, which once came from Norway, now comes from Africa.
The plate I watch her paint - it will take about 1,000 strokes - will be fired for 48 hours, during which time it will shrink about 15 percent.
Nearby is one of my favorite shops/sights: W.O. Larsen, tobacconist - high temple of Danish pipe and cigar smokers. Tobacco aficionados will be fascinated with the Tobacco Museum in the basement. It was founded in 1864 and recently expanded.
In a world of growing anti-smoking sentiment, it is an experience to drop into a shop such as this. One of the things you learn is that cigar smoking is quite widespread among Danish women.
The festival that is everyday life in Copenhagen will take on a formality of sorts in 1996 when the city becomes the Cultural Capital of Europe, the 12th capital city to bear that title. This a very big deal in Europe. It brings forth the best in theater, music, art, cinema and other artistic expressions.
Wonder is that it took so long to reach Copenhagen.
With typical Danish humor, one of the current magazine ads, promoting what will be the largest cultural event ever held in Denmark, pictures a stuffy sort of fellow, middle-aged, bald and bankerish in double-breasted pin-stripe, and very definitely not ``with it.'' The headline reads ``I'm not going.''
The accompanying type goes on to say:
``Frankly, I don't see myself going to Copenhagen in 1996. I've seen what those Danes are planning and it's completely over the top. I don't need any art in containers or ballet in the streets or Hamlet in a shipyard. And I can easily imagine the rabble of strange and noisy people one would get mixed up with.
``I mean, honestly: `Art and the Environment'? `The Thinking City'? `Designing the Future'? Nonsense. I heard they're having a festival with composers who aren't even dead yet.''
Yes, and with artists that are very much alive, too. The Danes are trusting that what may be ``completely over the top'' for some will be right on target for the masses. See what you think.
Jumping the gun, on New Year's Eve '95, Cultural Capital '96 kicks off with a performance of a musical honoring favorite son Hans Christian Andersen and featuring characters from his stories.
Two new versions of ``Hamlet'' will be performed in Elsinore, the setting immortalized in Shakespeare's play, a half-hour by train north of Copenhagen. ``Hamlet the Ballet'' will be performed at Kronborg Castle by the Royal Danish Ballet and the Royal Theatre Orchestra featuring music by the Danish rock group Sort Sol, and an experimental group called Cantabile 2 Theatre will present its interpretation of the play in a drydock in an Elsinore shipyard.
All summer long Copenhagen will be transformed into an outdoor museum when city squares and parks serve as galleries for Danish and other European artists. The city's harbor will serve as a backdrop for 96 Containers-Art Across Oceans, featuring work by leading young artists from 96 of the world's largest ports.
Some 28 international symphonies will play, and there will be dance performances by the Royal Danish Ballet, Russia's Kirov Ballet, the Paris Opera Ballet and London's Royal Ballet.
Of course three favorite, traditional Danish events will continue as usual: the Roskilde Festival of rock music in June, the Copenhagen Jazz Festival in July and the Copenhagen Water Festival in August.
And there's Tivoli. Nothing much has changed there in the last century and a half - aside from a lot of light bulbs. It's still for everyone, rich and poor alike. It costs less than $6 to get in, and the rides require one or two tickets (about $1.30 each or 10 for about $12).
I heard that not so long ago Queen Margarethe took her French-born consort, Prince Henrik, on the Tubs Ahoy ride - a sort of tunnel of love.
It's difficult to compare Tivoli Gardens to anything in America because it's just so European. Maybe even old-fashioned.
Plastic is banned along with neon. No canned music, either. There are about 200 musicians on the payroll - five bands and a symphony orchestra - and they play Strauss waltzes and the like. There's at least one concert every day.
Tivoli is tree-shaded walks, streams flowing into duck ponds, fountains bubbling everywhere. It is immaculately landscaped with flowers and shrubs. After all, gardens is part of Tivoli's name.
There's a Japanese pagoda, a Chinese Peacock Theater where commedia dell'arte Italian pantomimes have been given for more than 100 years, a Bazaar outlined by 3,953 lights that serve as a European idea of what a Turkish palace must look like. The whole idea from the beginning was to give Danes a view of places and wonders and adventures they would never experience otherwise. And if it was a somewhat fantastic view, well, so much the better.
There are 29 restaurants, only one of which is truly Danish: the Faergekroen, built in 1934 like a rural ferry inn. There is even a Bosnia-Herzegovina restaurant. The Japanese pagoda contains a Chinese restaurant, and there is America's unique contribution to world culture - a Hard Rock Cafe.
There are almost as many rides, 25, as there are restaurants. Most are on the park's periphery, including a rutchebane, or roller coaster, built in 1914. It makes a two-mile run in about a half-minute, still operated by a driver using manual brakes.
Many returnees admit they come back to see the Tivoli Guard as much as for anything else.
They're much like the guards at Amalienborg Palace, bearskins and all, only younger. They range in age from 9 to 16 and they've been performing since 1844.
The complete turnout includes a band, color guard and a platoon of guards led by a captain on a white horse plus a prince and princess in a horse-drawn coach and a marine artillery unit with brass cannons that fire.
Yes, it's all fantasy. But isn't it fun.
When I go back to Copenhagen, I'll head straight for Tivoli. I know I will. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
Top: John Barrymore in 1925 as Hamlet, the melancholy Dane.
Color photo
STEPHEN HARRIMAN
Left: A skateboarder performs stunts along the Stroget, Copenhagen's
lively pedestrian mall.
Graphic
TRAVELER'S ADVISORY
The Kingdom of Denmark consists of the peninsula of Jutland,
which juts northward from northern Germany, and 474 islands (100 of
them inhabited) that together separate the Atlantic Ocean or the
North Sea (to the west) from the Baltic Sea (to the east). Danes,
picturing themselves at the center of the world, call the Atlantic
the ``West Ocean'' and the Baltic the ``East Sea.''
Copenhagen - in Danish Kobenhavn or merchant's harbor - is
Scandinavia's largest city, with a population of more than 1.5
million, and is capital of the world's oldest kingdom, established
in 1167. It is a city with an unusually low skyline, quirky spires,
winding canals, narrow streets and old buildings - although not that
old.
The city was besieged by neighboring Swedes in the 17th century,
ravaged by two devastating fires in the following century and twice,
early in the 1800s, bombarded by the British navy for picking the
wrong side in the Napoleonic Wars. Copenhagen was occupied by the
Nazis in World War II.
Getting there: I traveled by train. Copenhagen is a major rail
hub linking the Nordic countries with northern Europe with frequent
service. By air, Copenhagen is a seven-hour flight from New York:
SAS flew out of Newark, Delta out of Kennedy. Copenhagen calls
itself the cruise capital of the Baltic Sea; more than 200 ships
dock here each summer.
Getting in: A valid passport is required; no visa is necessary
for U.S. citizens.
Getting around: Copenhagen is a great city for walking and
wandering. Get a copy of the book ``Copenhagen in a Day.'' There's
also an excellent public transportation system. A Copenhagen Card
(about $26 or 24 hours, $32 for 48 and $48 for 72) provides free
transport on buses and trains in the metropolitan area and admission
to more than 60 museums and attractions, including the
world-renowned Tivoli Gardens. The card is particularly good if you
want to cram a lot into a limited amount of time. There are supposed
to be 1,000 free bikes at 120 stands available for a small deposit
for visitor's use, but a local said you could never find one.
Getting along: It's a rare Dane who doesn't speak English quite
well and rare one, too, who isn't anxious to carry on a friendly
conversation with you.
Staying there: There is the wide range of accommodations one
would expect in a European capital city. Visitors who arrive without
reservations can get referrals from Copenhagen Tourist Information
next to Tivoli Gardens, across the street from the train station and
city air terminal. I stayed at the midrange Ascot Hotel, originally
designed in 1902 along what they call ``Medieval Danish Italian
lines'' as a public bath for bourgeois Copenhagers. It's in the
heart of town, a short walk from the train station and Tivoli.
Interesting place, hospitable and quite comfortable; some rooms on
the upper floors have a view of the Tivoli fireworks (11:45 p.m.,
Wednesday and Saturday.)
Eating there: Copenhagen is a seafood city; try something fishy.
Cellar restaurants are an institution, a place where time stands
still: step down and mind your head, doorways that lean, tables that
rock, floors that squeak, laughter and conversation that fill the
place; open-face sandwiches of fried herring in vinegar, smoked eel,
homemade sausage, cheese, pastry oh-so-Danish, with coffee or
akvavit (Danish schnapps) and beer taps flowing non-stop.
Info: Contact a local travel agent or the Danish Tourist Board,
655 Third Ave., New York, N.Y. 10017; (212) 949-2322.
by CNB