A 7am drive to Gatwick on Saturday resulted in our flight landing in Copenhagen at 2pm and we checked in to our hotel, which was rather posh. Whereas I’m happy sleeping in bunkbeds at the cheapest hostel in a 20 miles radius, Pete prefers a 4* establishment… so we compromised and stayed in a 4* establishment. The lengths you have to go to get good WiFi and more than one pillow.
Once we sorted ourselves out, dumped our bags and checked the County score we headed out. A walk through the park in Christiania, then past Tivoli amusement park led us to the meat packing district (keep the jokes to yourselves), where many old warehouse units now housed cool, alternative dining. Our recommendation to visit Warpigs off a friend didn’t let us down as we enjoyed parts of a pig I didn’t know existed along with a crisp pint of IPA to wash it down.
When travelling with Mikayla I tend to have a strict itinerary, however this time around my tourism plans for the weekend were held in a single text message I compiled a few weeks prior. The plan for the evening was to walk to Nyhavn but this was the other side of the City and I had friends having a pint nearby both a) promising me a cheap-beyond-belief pint for £2.30 and b) desperate to enjoy my terrible banter and shit jokes. That place was the Old Irish Pub just a two minute walk from the main train station and central square.
What began as an innocent pint soon turned in to an all-night bender, especially once Pete decided to head back after half an hour. The establishment was already full with my countrymen chanting, singing alone with the acoustic guitarist on stage and even ‘borrowing’ his microphone on the odd occasion. Many of us around the table just had just been following Newport win 1-0 away at Oldham making us joint-top of the league, leading us to bellow out numerous tunes the carousel of musicians entertained us with.
I must admit I did have concerns early on if everyone would be able to behave themselves for the duration of the night but fair play, even once the pub filled up with more locals than the Red Wall, everyone behaved impeccably – unless the last 5 or so that were still there when I left at 3am kicked off, but I doubt.
To say I woke up feeling fresh the next day would be… absolute bollocks.
Remembering the great night experienced and that I had a football game to go to, by the time we made the mile walk to our Wonky Sheep coach I was fully conscious, hydrated and washed. Only when we sat on the coach did it hit me how far we would be travelling. Four hours on a coach is a rare occasion for me nowadays as I seldom go and watch the County away anywhere over three.
The trip was made pleasant by some cracking pieces of bridge architecture, me sleeping for large spells and our driver’s dry sense of humour getting the odd laugh from his passengers. We arrived in Aarhus at lunchtime and had a walk through the town.
Aarhus seemed nice. Quiet, with a picturesque river alongside countless café bars, albeit making you pay for the experience. The four bottles of Somersby cider at a cost of £22 didn’t fit my frugal agenda and if you’d seen my reaction to the bank balance after the trip you would understand. We sacrificed the option to get a lift to the ground, instead joining the red stream of Welsh and Danish supporters congregating with excitement to Ceres Park.
The decision to move the game from Copenhagen to Aarhus would have upset a lot of Welsh supporters and the associated costs didn’t help matters, but I got the feeling the locals appreciated the opportunity. The ground was basic but adequate and with the reception the Danish players received, you couldn’t imagine they embarrassingly ditched their country over a few extra quid during the week leading up to the evening.
Our anthem was ‘on point’ as one would expect. Win lose or draw it’s always up there with the highlight of the game/day/trip. Wales started the match well, Giggs changed the team more than I had hoped with Gunter starting and Brooks on the bench, but until a mistake led to the Eriksen goal I thought we were the better team, albeit creating little in front of goal. By the time Denmark were awarded their second, a harsh-not-dodgy penalty decision, we seemed to have ran out of ideas without an obvious plan B. The potential witnessed on Thursday wasn’t all there, and as many media outlets labelled it, we came back down to earth. Credit to Denmark though, I personally underestimated their quality and if it wasn’t for three brilliant saves from Hennessey it could have been more. It was a long trip back to Copenhagen.
After a much better sleep than the night before (I had a lie in whilst Pete treated himself to the hotel breakfast buffet) it was time to tackle some of the sights that I sacrificed on Saturday in lieu of the pub. I still had just a list of places, but Pete during his give or take 8-course brekkie had discovered the best way to get to the famous Little Mermaid statue was via the public boats.
This allowed us to see the national opera house and army barracks before we reached “Kastellet”, a 17th century citadel along the river. I was forewarned that the Mermaid itself is rather underwhelming, and I tend to agree. The statue is only around a metre in height and doesn’t benefit from any particularly beautiful backdrop. The area itself was nice to have a walk around and more importantly than life itself, it was another superficial tick on my superficial list.
We were making good time so we decided to walk south to Nyhavn, a small harbour area adorned with colourful buildings and countless café bars and restaurants. On the way here we came to Amalienborg square, the home of the Royal family and Frederik’s Church nearby which was a very grand building.
I’m never going to be the ultimate tourist, but feeling the need to force myself in to Churches and boring museums would be enough for me to want to stay home. Get over it. On this occasion however, the church did take my interest and once inside you could see the grandiose artwork inside of the huge dome overlooking the peaceful atmosphere of worshipers and tourists trying (failing) to be silent.
On to Nyhavn, I think the picture speaks more than words here. I’m quite proud of this picture, not often do I take one I’m pleased with without having to add several newly-found Instagram filters. We passed on the opportunity to grab some lunch, I had very little money left and had a gutsful of considering buying a club sandwich and fries for £18 everywhere we went. Instead we sat down for a drink in a place called McJoy’s… the implied “joy” soon slipped away once I had agreed to a £6 pint of draught sparking water, SIX POUNDS! Without wanting to go ragingly off topic, at home £6 worth of fizzy bloody water would get me 30 LITRES from the supermarket; it’s usually free in pubs! It was a really nice lemon slice though and I was promised the ice was produced using unicorn tears… sigh.
#Watergate over with, we on got chatting to a chap who was spending the day in Copenhagen during his cruise with his wife (who he’d managed to shake off – good work). Once he had introduced himself by boasting about the fact he only paid 20KR for his cup of coffee, we had an interesting conversation around his time serving in Vietnam, all the places we have visited and his current tour along the coast of Europe. It felt like between the two of them there weren’t many stones left unturned… but have they been to Mansfield away on a Tuesday night? As interesting as our brief time chatting away in the sunshine was, once the bloke declined Pete’s offer for a photograph (he don’t believe in those things (mobile phones)) we paid the bill – one kidney lighter – and continued back into the centre wary that in a few hours we would be making our way to the airport.
I had devoured a hot-dog that just about fell in line with the Chris’-suitable-prices-to-pay-for-things, so we made a move through the fashion district (boy did we feel out of place) that concluded at our final destination of The Round Tower, or Rundetaarn, that would give us views across the city. As my calves are still recovering from the step climbing in Prague it was a delight to walk up the tower using a spiral ramp – an “equestrian staircase” rather steps. The tower wasn’t huge – Denmark is a very flat country, and the highest natural point in Denmark we actually passed on the way to Aarhus, and that was only 170m above sea-level – so it didn’t take long to reach the summit and enjoy the best views the city had to offer. On the way down we overheard someone say that it is the world oldest observatory tower too, so we’ll take their word for that.
Following a quick rest for a drink in one of the many bustling courtyards, we caught the metro back to the hotel to begin the journey home. During this point was when I logged in to online banking…
Ohhh…. Shit.
Here’s hoping my current eBay sale brings in a few quid before the next game in Dublin on the 16th October! I may even have to drink less.
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How Not 2 Life 