Thanks for visiting and welcome back if you have joined me straight from my Lisbon post, for the latter part of this football double-header.
To recap, I visited Denmark for three nights, after three nights in Portugal, with the main purpose of each trip to watch Wales play football. Or try to. At least that’s what I tell the wife.
This blog will kick-off its itinerary half way through Day Four, so if you want to check out the first part of my shenanigans in Lisbon, you can do so by CLICKING HERE to visit the blog post.
I’m getting to the stage now where it’s not my first time visiting many of the places I go to for the football and I’ve also written about the places before. Therefore, I am glad to share THIS LINK that will take you to my previous visit to Copenhagen way back in 2018. To be honest, I’ll do a lot of the sites this time around and neither will be too heavy on in-depth information. Just enjoy the ride, yeah?
Costs and Accommodation
Flying from Lisbon via Geneva (Switzerland) with EasyJet set me back around £50 each flight, with each taking around two hours. Can’t go wrong there. Similarly, my two KLM flights home via Amsterdam were also around the £100 mark combined. Connecting flights were purely to save money given the demand from fellow football fans, but you can often pick up very cheap return flights to Copenhagen from several UK airports for, say, £150 return.
You can use an app for public transport and rides cost between £1-3. In such an expensive location, paying just £3ish from the airport to the centre was not anticipated!
I had initially reserved a three-night stay in a central hotel for £250. However, because my friend Peter wanted to join a little later on in the planning process, it made sense sharing a room, thus halving the hotel cost, right? Wrong. I allowed Peter to have his preference of hotel, and we ended up paying £247 each. I could have had my own room for an extra 3-fucking-quid. I wasn’t too impressed, but also not absolutely raging, as after three days solo in Lisbon the company was to be appreciated.
We stayed in Scandic Kødbyen. Scandic is a large chain in Scandinavia and there are countless hotels in Copenhagen alone. The problem I have with staying in nice/expensive hotels, is that EVERYTHING else is extortionate. I did not entertain paying £23 for breakfast on any day and was very pleased I had no use for the laundry service, having hand washed clothes in the sink back in my Portugal residence.
In total, I guesstimate this trip cost in the region of £700, so paired with the Lisbon episode, a rather expensive six days totalling £1,200.
Before I wind myself up about the hotel once again, let’s pick up the itinerary on day four…
Day Four (part two).
It turned out that I had ample time to wander around in Lisbon airport and even treated myself to a £13 McDonalds meal to pass the time before my flight to Geneva. Any doubts over the 90-minute connection time in Geneva were calmed as we arrived on time and the onward flight was slightly delayed.
From the airport, it was a simple Metro (that actually worked today, unlike Lisbon) and change onto the “S-Train” to get me within a five minute walk to the hotel. Easy peasy.
At the hotel, Peter was waiting to welcome me, pint in hand, whilst we discussed my trip so far and a few other bits. We were joined at our table, by none other than former Premier League striker David Johnson and his wife. Mr Johnson, obviously, is the father of Cymru player Brennan. The couple were really nice to speak with for half an hour, as I kept quiet about the fact I was hoping someone who hide Brennan’s passport in Lisbon to rule him out of the game, a thought that was still available on my Instagram story whilst chatting! Unfortunately, he was crap, and continued to be for the remainder of the four-match international break. Boy, do I hope he turns it around for club and country and I can look back at this and stand corrected.
As we were staying next door to the popular meat-packing district, that houses plenty of trendy food and drink places but looks like a load of small factories, we did have a wander around to see if anything took my fancy. Ultimately, I chose to save £20 and skip a meal, so for tea enjoyed half of an 80p Aldi chocolate bar in the room. Knew I should have packed that Pot Noodle…
That was it for today really. I started the day in sunny Lisbon and ended it in chilly Copenhagen.
Day Five
With there not being much new that I wanted to see in Copenhagen, my first day started early to take a day trip to Malmo in Sweden. We started off by walking through the meat-packing area, about 15 minutes to Copenhagen central train station. Compared to the sunshine and relaxed vibe in Lisbon, the gloomy morning sky and millions of cyclists starting their busy days was a noticeable culture shift. A little bit depressing perhaps, even with the accolade of being the ‘best place to live’ in the world.
The two cities, Copenhagen and Malmo, are separated by the straight of Øresund and connected by Øresund Bridge, which is only a 30 minute train ride. The bridge itself is a spectacle. Opened in 2000, it starts underground, up through an island and running 8 kilometres into Sweden. Fourth longest bridge in Europe, apparently. It accommodates both trains and cars on the top level and a return journey cost about £25. We did take our passports, of course, but they weren’t checked.
For Sweden’s third largest city, Stockholm and Gothenburg before you ask, Malmo did feel very small and sleepy once departing the train station. This was 9am on a Saturday morning. Not that I was complaining as we walked over the canal? river? … body of water I cannot find a name for … into the old part of town.
Lilla Torg was advertised as a square that combines the historic character of the city with a lively and welcoming atmosphere with its restaurants and bars. However, the many bars here and surrounding areas were closed, as obviously nobody eats breakfast in Sweden?
After a bit of effort, we did find an up-market coffee shop / artisan bakery for a quick coffee and a pastry ahead of a walk that would take us to the coastline.
Our first stop on the way was Malmo Castle, or Malmöhus Slott. I understand the castle welcomes visitors and houses the city’s museum, but on this occasion we continued walking.
Although the city centre was not of great size, it was still strange to walk 20 minutes and be in a large park that leads onto a small beach. We had a good wander around here and a few sit downs, as I educated Peter on the ‘Twisted Torso’. That building in the photo below was the tallest in Scandinavia until 2022. Doing a bit of post-trip research, it stands at 190 metres high. Crikey, it did NOT look as tall as two Big Bens in its location, even though I counted over 50 floors.
Contemplating whether we liked the design or not, we walked along the beach to take a photo of the Øresund Bridge, which reminds me… I need to ask Peter for his better clarity photographs.
The bridge was a little too far away to appreciate its incredible engineering, but a small pier that led to welcome toilets and a quick refreshment was a fair consolation prize.
After taking our time walking directly back near the train station, we didn’t have anything else listed to see, so we researched somewhere for lunch. If you have been to Malmo, please do educate me on other interesting sights to see!
Whilst trying my best to ignore the prices, I was happy with choosing a food market for our lunch.
After giving heavy consideration to burgers or Swedish meatballs, we decided on fish and chips. For about £18 including a soft drink, it was, I guess, reasonable… and very tasty. It goes without saying the complimentary baguette and butter was taken full advantage of. The fish was battered fresh and so much nicer than your local chippy.
After lunch it was only a five minute walk back to the train station, longer because we bumped into my friends treading our footsteps a few hours behind. The train back to Copenhagen was perfectly uneventful as we made our way back to the hotel for a few hours rest and planned the evening.
It’s now my third time in Copenhagen and, especially the last visit, I really fancied a walk around Tivoli Park, even just to tick it off the list. Tivoli Park is a small theme park with rides and stalls and stuff. It’s located smack bang in the middle of town. Literally over the road from the central train station. It reminded me a bit of the theme park close to the centre of Stockholm called Gröna Lund. However, I’m going to be confident that Gröna Lund is ten times better, given the amount of thrill rides they pack in such a small area.
Oops… not on about Sweden am I?… Tivoli Park. Yeah, it was bloody closed! I had wrongfully assumed it is open year-round but it was in fact closed for a couple of weeks post-summer and due to reopen for Hallowe’en season. There was some private function going on but one thing I did not pack (or own) is a sharp black suit and bow tie.
Unable to do the one thing we had planned, we went to the pub. The Old Irish Pub, to be exact.
I enjoyed Peter’s company for a pint or two before he had an early night. I, on the other hand, met friends from all over including Newport County pals, the regular girls from north Wales, even my fucking padel doubles partner bought me a pint, being the first time I’ve seen him without a racquet in his hand!
All that was very good, being thrown in with song-singing, dancing on tables (Grandad’s on a table… IYKYK), England losing v Spain on the TV and a shit tonne of Somersby cider. However, all good things come to a crashing end, and 3am would signal my last beers of the trip. I was bogging.
Day Six
Considering I didn’t get to bed until 4am, I didn’t feel as useless as I usually do after a session, but I was absolutely knackered. I allowed Pete to indulge in the £23 hotel breakfast and it would have been late morning by the time I managed to be in a state to leave the hotel room (especially the bathroom bit).
Luckily, it was a cool, pleasant day (this helped) and we walked to our nearest station on the way to the Nyhavn area of the city. As we sat down for a coffee, my face did not show the excitement of it being match day.
Nyhavn is a, ummmm… street? canal? harbour?… area, slightly to the north of the city centre. It is undoubtedly one of the most photographed areas in Denmark, if not Scandinavia, featuring sail boats, colourful buildings and endless restaurants. On our last trip, I ended up paying £5 for a glass of sparkling water, so stopping was certainly not on the agenda today.
That above photo is obviously one of my favourite of the trip, and it looks incredibly similar to the one taken in 2018 – see for yourself by clicking here. Spooky.
You wouldn’t know it by the amount of blog space given to this morning, but we did manage to stay out for 2-3 hours before I went back to bed in the hotel for a few hours.
Peter eventually encouraged me to have some food, and persuaded me with “Gaza Grill” around the corner in the fancy meat packing area, which he tried the night before (whilst I was ruining my life). For a place called Gaza Grill, it was a bit… plain… there was nothing much, lets say, pro-Palestinian about it, and I worried that it may be a marketing ploy to get punters in. Peter did eventually ask a waiter who explained the big boss was Palestinian, so fair enough. The kebab and chips itself was very poor, although considering I didn’t finish my chips for the first time since being a toddler, perhaps it was not the right time to be reviewing cuisine.
Peter’s hopes and dreams of going straight to the match, or God forbid a pre-match beer, took another bashing after food, as I insisted of yet ANOTHER trip back to the hotel to get an additional 45 minutes kip. State on me.
We did eventually leave for the match and not a minute earlier than was necessary, but allowed ample time to navigate the very busy Metro and walk to the ground.
Inside Parken, the biggest stadium in the country, we were not located with the main wall of Cymru fans, but to the side, in what many call the posh seats, but they’re basically for those who need that little extra accessibility, and less of young lads sinking pints, such as Pete (and me too this evening!).
In hidsight, being in our seat 45 minutes before kick off should have given me appetite for a cheeky hot dog and a drink, or a pre-match ciggie, but nah, I just sat there and watched us warm up.
Ah, my favourite part of any blog. Writing about how shit Wales are at football.
Denmark beat Wales 2-0 and whilst we did have some chances and good moves, we were easily beaten by the Danes who in truth could have scored 4+. The ref was shit, which obviously didn’t help, but neither did it have a huge impact on the result. A depleted team ultimately turned over, and in the two games of the trip, we conceded 5 (two disallowed) and scored fucking ZERO. The stadium was nice (can’t remember much from my visit in 2007) and the Danish supporters inside and outside the ground were very friendly. They would be though.
Now that darkness had fallen and in amongst the stream of people getting back to where they needed to be, we took one look at the Metro queue which was overflowing onto street level and opted for an Uber, which itself was a 30 minute wait. Back at the hotel, Peter had a beer whilst I struggled to get pizzas delivered, eventually finding success, and my appetite, to finish the day.
Day Seven
Thankfully, I was a bit more lively today but nowhere near 100%. As Peter went for a posh breakfast somewhere, I dragged myself to the corner shop for a croissant and 2 litres of orange juice. This would be our last day and as Pete’s flight was a few hours before mine, we headed out late morning to ensure we had ample time to wander.
I did try and have a good look for something else to do, but ultimately, another visit to the Little Mermaid and along the harbourside came out trumps. I think I benefitted from the 20 minute walk from train station to statue, with it being yet another cool and dry morning.
The Little Mermaid, or “Den lille Havfrue”, is also among the most visited spots in the city. It’s a statue no more than 1.5 metres tall, located just about jumping distance from the land into the water.
I must admit, it is one of the more peculiar, and underwhelming, tourist attractions on the continent. For me, docklands, cargo ships and that humungous factory in the background rather eliminate any spectacle.
It did, however, ‘get us out of the house’ and allow us to walk along the harbourside, past some better statues I didn’t think to take photos of, some important buildings (I guess), some oligarch super yachts and a good view of the impressive Det Kongelige Opera house and Theatre.
It was now approaching midday and Pete rightfully wanted a final lunch before heading to the airport a little earlier than I needed to. For that reason, I didn’t want to eat yet but when he chose a posh little restaurant right by the bridge where I took the photo of Nyhavn. Peak tourist trap.
Remember me not buying anything here after paying £5 for a sparkling water in 2018? Well, I didn’t plan too but it was awkward sitting inside, so succumbed to a simple tomato soup whilst Pete had fish and chips.
I should have known when noticing an old-style Heinz poster on the wall, that the soup probably came out of a can, mixed with some cream and basil. The soup was marginally warm, I spent the duration picking stalks of basil from my teeth and paid FOURTEEN QUID for the pleasure. Yes, with another rip-off glass of water. The place was called Nyhavnskroen and I advise you to bypass it on your visit.
With that shower of shit finally over, I said my goodbye to Peter. I calculated I had a good 2-3 hours extra, so walked around the harbour area a bit before visiting a peculiar part of Copenhagen.
I wanted to visit Christiania on my last visit but time got away from me. No excuses this time around, and my first and only Christory lesson of the whole trip.
Christiania is a Freetown smack bang in the middle of the city. A free town is a commune, which for definition, is a voluntary residential community designed to foster a high degree of social cohesion. The area started in 1971 when a group of squatters occupied an old Army barracks. Over the years it has experienced its fair share of riots, protests and even murders, largely down to it being famous for its illegal cannabis trade until 2024.
Visiting in 2026, thankfully the idea of warfare seemed a distant possibility. Since then, the residents even decided to rip up the renowned (Pusher Street) and on my visit it was calm and very welcoming to tourists.
This was obvious when a friendly lady cleaning tables at the food outlet below wished me a good afternoon. Luckily, because I experienced such a shit starter for lunch an hour ago, I was easily persuaded to hang around and have a proper lunch.
A sizeable pulled pork roll with crackling, cabbage, pickles and sauce set me back £8 and the three pork meatballs a fiver. Proper street food and very tasty, even though the additional of the meatballs were unnecessary.
After the food stop I had a stroll around the town, which included a few gift shops, workshops, second hand clothes shops and even a few bars. It was all very peaceful considering a) its perceived reputation and past, and b) it’s listed as the fourth most visited tourist spot in the city.
As I walked around I felt perfectly safe. There were a few locals dotted around completing their fair share of general up-keep, although I did wonder where the estimated 800-1,100 residents stay, as the few multi-storey buildings must be very cramped.
I only spent 45 minutes walking around but I would allow two hours including lunch or a beer. I would have preferred to learn more about Christiania at the time, rather than the internet post-visit.
It was a little surreal leaving the town and instantly being back in ‘normality’, walking to the metro down a street aligned with flats with balconies that cost a fortune in rent no doubt.
My somewhat ad-hoc trip to the Freetown really did complete a list of things I wanted to do, so it was time to head back to the hotel and rest a bit before one final metro to the airport.
Instead of alighting near my hotel, I did choose one final stop for a photo at Rådhuspladsen, the square outside of City Hall. This was practically next to the central train station but I was happy to walk the 25 minutes back to the hotel, to eliminate any doubt of me missing out on my ongoing 10,000 steps a day so far this year. Ten thousand turned out to be very easy, as it did every day of the trip.
I collected my bags form the hotel, had a quick half hour in reception to recharge my phone and successfully headed to the airport. I made very good time and just had time to squeeze in the best kebab wrap and fries of the trip, which is shameful for the kebab establishments in the city!
It was 70 minutes to Amsterdam, an hour transfer, then 50 minutes into Bristol. My mother was on hand to pick me up and drop me home to the wife just before 1am.
Thanks for reading!
