Last Thursday. I left London, and boarded an easyJet to Copenhagen, where one of my good friends met me for a fun filled, yet quaint and relaxing weekend. For a country whose national population consists of one million people, Copenhagen is packed with a whole awful lot of babies. Everywhere Jackson and I went, there was a crying baby. Maybe he didn't notice as much, but I sure did. It was a good thing that these children were the most adorable blonde haired, blue and green eyed, Danish (sounded like jibbersish to me) speaking toddlers that I have ever seen. Granted, we did go to places like the Copenhagen Zoo, Tivoli Gardens and amusement park, and the annual Sand Sculpting contest, so I guess I had the crying babies coming for me. But moving on from the children, Copenhagen is a beautiful place, all you need is a bike and you are set for the weekend. I read in a tour guide map that 97% of the people who live in Copenhagen own a bicycle, and only that. At first, I thought that was incredibly cheeky, but then after having hit (mostly) all of Copenhagen by the second day, I understood why. During my five days in the picturesque town I had just about seen it all. Night life is excellent there, but who wants to bike 4 kilometres home very slightly intoxicated? This girl.
Now I leave you with the most overused question that I heard from every Danish person we met in the clubs, pubs, and restaurants:
"You're from California?!Why Copenhagen?!"To which Jackson or I would simply, and religiously respond with,
"I don't know."
Farvel,
xx elizabeth