June 19: An evening walk through Nyhavn [journal]
The delayed setting sun and clear, blue skies made for a beautiful Friday night exploring Nyhavn and its surrounds.
Despite being three months into our trip and low on expendable funds, I managed to twist the budget enough to enjoy a chocolate smothered waffle as we strolled down the strip of restaurants. Dodging bicycles, we found a spot on the edge of the harbour so that I could continue getting chocolate all over my face, hands and jumper out of the walkway. It was a little after 7 in the evening, and the sun was casting a warm orange glow over the bustling city.
Walking through dimly lit streets, still alive with boisterous conversation, women zooming by on pushbikes we stumbled upon many architectural gems. Not dissimilar to our beautiful Melbourne (which we miss more and more... especially when we start thinking about all the good veggie food we're missing. We miss you Lord of the Fries!), bustling cafes were tucked down the slimmest of alleys, and huge bands of 20-somethings were pouring out of hole-in-the-wall bars, beer in both hands.
While strolling down a main road, we were overtaken by a pair of middle-aged men on a bicycle - one pedalling, the other sitting comfortably in the rickshaw in front, clutching a six pack of beer, and downing another. They pulled over at a traffic light, and the one driving hopped off the bike and stepped into the nearby grocer to (presumably) buy some more alcohol.
We came to the end of the road and a small cathedral, where a man smoking a cigarette, with a blonde topknot and thick blonde beard was perched on the edge of a communications box. A ginger cat was wandering towards him and, unable to help myself, I let out a plaintive 'miaow' to the little cat. He glanced over, but the man gestured at the cat, who turned to approach him instead.
"I wonder if that man is out walking his cat," said Nicholas.
"If he is, that's the end of you," I joked.
Another cat emerged from the shadows, this one a tuxedo cat, a stockier, rounder version of my own cat, Puck. They circled each other, making eyes across the courtyard that fronted the cathedral, before hearing the bark of a dog and scampering off.
The ginger cat stayed nearby, pacing in front of a pale blue apartment block, so we approached him again. Crouching down and gesturing, I called out to the little lion cat, and he hurried over, rubbing against my legs and leading me to the front door, evidently hoping that we could let him inside.
After more wandering and getting a little bit lost, we found ourselves in the King's Garden - where we had been the day prior - but it looked completely different in the strange evening light. The light was simultaneously orange and heavy, and pale blue and bright. Long shadows were cast across the grass, shading the crowds of teenagers who were drinking and listening to music in the park. A metal festival, Copenhell, had been on during the day, so lots of park-goers were donning relevant t-shirts.
As we had walked away from the ginger cat, whom I dubbed Simba (because he reminded me of a cat my mother used to care for, whose name was Simba) Nicholas had picked a bright red rose from a small bush outside a dilapidated apartment. While we walked, he de-thorned it with his nails, before handing it to me while we walked through the King's Garden.
Our apartment was a twenty-minute stroll from the garden, on the cusp of trendy Vesterbro (which used to be Copenhagen's red light district) so we head off for home to beat the setting sun. Strøget was still busy with visitors, despite all the shops being closed, and buskers lined the streets, men playing jazz music and young women singing in husky voices. The sky quickly turned from blue to pink to orange, and the sun sent its last rays over the city as we approached the 7/11 on the corner of our street.
Groups of uni students rode down the street on their bicycles, jeering, with beers and premixers in hand, waving to onlookers. I said goodnight to the bustling Copenhagen, which evidently had no intention of heading to bed any time soon, and head back into the apartment.
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