stimulating the economy, one kanelgifler at a time

When we first arrived in Copenhagen, we brought the plague with us. OK, it wasn’t the plague but it was a nasty headcold … consequently, nothing tasted nice - actually nothing tasted of anything. Combined with my usual “I’m in a foreign country” culture shock* and the subsequent horror of trying to do a supermarket shop and decipher all the Danish labels, our food supplies were fairly limited and bland for a while.

Then I discovered kanelgifler. They are small cinnamon scrolls, and I can’t actually explain what makes them so appealing … they are yummy, but small, so there’s less guilt - and they aren’t actually cake, precisely, so they’re *almost* healthy (*AHEM*). And at 12DKK a packet (about the equivalent of $AU3), they are not as frighteningly expensive as most groceries are, compared to Australian prices.

But THEN last week, they were 2 packets for 20DKK so of course I had to buy TWO packets. When we finished the last one this morning I thought, that’s it! Time to get healthy, no more kanelgiflers. Only to find them at the supermarket, THREE packets for 25DKK … I resisted! …. all the way to the freezer section, then I went back and got three packets. Of course.

But as soon as these ones are gone, NO MORE!! Time to get healthy! My aim this week is to ride to play group … it’s about 4km away, and the furtherest ride I’ve done with the big bike, so we’ll see how that goes.

I am surprised to find that I actually enjoy riding … it’s nice to feel like it’s acceptable to ride a bike just to get around, rather than being a serious cycler. I don’t think many people do that back home. (Of course, as I’ve mentioned, we don’t really have the infrastructure for it either).

* The first time we went to Paris, fresh off the train, I was appallingly horrified to discover that THEY ALL SPOKE FRENCH. (I know, I know). I mean, what’s wrong with English, doesn’t EVERYONE speak it? Thus began my enlightenment that I am one of those travelers … insisting on speaking my own language, insisting on eating ‘normal’ food, and announcing belligerently  “that’s not how we do it back home!”.  It’s not that I don’t want to experience other cultures, it just takes my brain a while to catch up. I’m getting there. Gradually.

I miss you … and you … and even you.

One month

We’ve made it through our first calendar month in Copenhagen. We’ve achieved a lot … the days are longer! (a little bit). I can buy most of the things I need from the supermarket, and I hardly ever buy fish thinking it’s chicken anymore … although weetbix are still eluding me (I think we got some at the Irma or the Netto in the city … but I’m not traveling ALL THAT WAY* to get more). I have a Danish bank card and I CAN USE IT! (It helps when you use the right PIN). We’ve got bikes and we ride. I can get places on public transport AND I can get home again. Hugo will be starting preschool next week (hooray! This happened much more quickly than I was anticipating).

Last night we had our first language lesson. Ho hum. I have to say, considering we will be here only 11 more months, and this language is so difficult to speak (the pronunciation is just beyond me), I am tempted to stick to the basics and memorise “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Danish. Do you speak English?” and hope I never need to call anywhere that uses an automated answering service.

* All that way to the city … is actually about ten minutes on the bus, and I could probably ride it in about the same time.

Copenhagen - don’t they all ride bikes there?

Why yes they do! And so do I … with both children in front. Our bike of choice is the kangaroo bike and the children love it. Well - Hugo loves it because it means he doesn’t have to walk, and he’s nice and warm and cosy. Every time we leave the apartment he asks “will we take the bike, Mum?”. Sophie doesn’t mind it too much although she gets a bit wiggley and whingey if we’re out for too long (as she does on the bus, in the stroller, in the car … nothing a biscuit doesn’t fix, at least briefly).

I have to admit, the first time I took the bike out I was very extremely anxious. My last bike riding experience in Canberra, with the children in a trailer did not go very well. And that was on a bike path, away from traffic, in a normal climate (ie not freezing cold!) in a country where I spoke the same language as most of the other people. So the first trip was a bit fraught with tension, although nothing untoward happened. And the second trip was a bit fraught with agony as my poor, unfit body was assaulted by unaccustomed muscle-use. And the third trip was actually not too bad … I was even getting used to riding alongside traffic. Stick to the right, and it’s fine.

It’s a bit depressing being taken over by 4 year olds on tiny pushbikes with trainer wheels but hey, you get that. And a few times people have commented as they pass me. I don’t know what they’re saying but I’m telling myself that it’s “Hey, that’s a really cool bike, and you look totally Danish, that’s why I’m assuming you can understand what I’m saying” rather than “Get out of the way you slow, non-Danish speaking foreigner who can’t even ride a bike properly!”.

And now of course it’s fine, and I’m all full of grand plans for taking the bike back home and keeping it up (although I know Sydney just doesn’t have the bike infrastructure that Copenhagen has … nor does it have the extremely high income tax that Denmark has, or the 25% VAT, OR 180% taxation on cars … all the things that help pay for the infrastructure. And it’s also a lot sprawlier and a lot hillier).

This is our bike, complete with a light frosting of snow!

Tags: Copenhagen, kangaroo bike

experimentarium

Today we went to the Experimentarium (which is a bit like Questacon, but in Hugo’s words “EVEN BETTER!” … I don’t think it’s better, but probably on par). It’s full of science-y exploration and learning through play activities.

They had a soap bubble show … I don’t actually know what it was about because it was in Danish, but the bubbles were cool. About half way through, Hugo turned to me and said “Mummy, I have NO IDEA what he’s saying!” and neither did I! but we had fun watching. The absolutely best bit was when he used a match to set the bubbles on FIRE!

But possibly more exciting than bubbles was the marble run.

Those of you know know Hugo will recognise how excited he is by his flapping hands. This is something he’s done since he was a very small baby, although back then we called it “starfish hands” and it was more opening and closing his hands than flapping. The funny thing is Sophie copies him now, and when she’s excited she flaps her hands … the same way she imitates him laughing.

Tags: Copenhagen, experimentarium, Hugo, Sophie

I *am* that person now.

Yesterday, as I struggled to find the change to pay for my groceries … today as I failed to use my new chipped visa card properly (several times), irritating the cashier and the lengthening queue behind me … last week when I didn’t know how to use the ticket machine on the bus …

I *am* that person now, the one I’ve been stuck behind at the supermarket, the one I’ve rolled my eyes in irritation at, the one I’ve sighed audibly at … it’s such a humbling experience to be the person who doesn’t automatically know how things work, who can’t read even the most basic instructions, the one who struggles with the simplest of transactions.

I miss my bed.

I really miss my bed. I knew I would.

At home, we have a great bed. A really, really great bed. (House-sitters, if you’re reading this and you disagree DON’T DISILLUSION ME!!). It’s a king size ensemble, latex mattress … perfect for blissful slumber. I even have a great pillow.

The beds here are different. They tend to be made of two single bases bolted together with a thinnish mattress pad on top. The pillows are just small square things. Not bad exactly, just different.

There are a lot of things that are just a little bit different, like the milk - it’s pasturised, but not homogenised, so if you don’t shake it, you get chunky fatty bits (eww). Even the diet coke (my bad habit) taste a bit … funny. Different. Some differences are GOOD. Cornflakes are a lot paler here. Hugo loves them, they ‘taste’ so much better than Australian cornflakes, apparently. (I personally think it’s his preference for white foods, anything white, or close to it, passes the Fussy Eater test).

Still, it’s getting easier. I went to the supermarket and found plastic wrap!! And I didn’t even need to ask for help.

We had a huge expedition out to Ikea on Friday. We bought Sophie a cot, which I set up on my own (YAY ME!), we bought a whole lot of little bits and pieces we needed, we’re starting to get settled in here. I already want to go back to Ikea for all the “wants” as opposed to “needs”.

hygge

Hygge is a Danish word that I can’t pronounce (I can’t pronounce any Danish words, actually) that is hard to translate directly into English, but from what I understand, it means something like cosiness, good company, good food and drink but it’s more than that. Creating hygge in the home seems to be an art form, one that I’m sure I couldn’t recreate myself.

Our new home feels like the owners have put a lot of effort into making it a place that encourages hygge - gentle lighting, comfortable furniture, strategically placed candles (most of which I have removed out of the reach of Hugo and Sophie. Mostly Sophie).

I think we all feel comfortable and at home here. It’s not ‘our home’, but it’s our home for now, and we will be happy here. Hygge!

Copenhagen

It is my intention to keep a Copenhagen blog of our year here … initially I thought I’d try for a post a day, but here we are a week and a half  in and I’m struggling to write my FIRST post so that probably won’t happen.

After a mad final week in Sydney we finally made it to the airport and on the plane. The children were both really good, especially given Sophia hadn’t napped all day and then had a total of about 5 hours in the 24 hour flight. Thank goodness for the Dora channel on the in-flight entertainment!

We had a nice, cold week in the UK and then a short flight to Copenhagen on Saturday. Both children came down with horrible colds at the same time and have been pretty sick and miserable ever since. So this week has been a bit of a whirlwind of looking at apartments, setting up bank accounts, trying to decipher Danish labels on food at the supermarket and basically trying to grasp that we are finally here.

We’ve finally moved into our permanent accommodation today, which has separate bedrooms for the kids (Hugo is thrilled), a bath (again, Hugo loves this after bathing in a plastic packing tub for the past week and a half), wireless internet (YAY says me) and no construction work downstairs (YAY we *all* say!).

We also visited børnehavn (preschool) for Hugo today. It seems quite similar to his preschool back home (other than the fact that everyone speaks Danish), and he was really keen to start going so hopefully he won’t be on the waiting list for too long. There is a policy that all children will be offered a place *somewhere* within six weeks, I just hope that *somewhere* is not too far from our place. Also, it’s normal for children to go 5 days a week (he has only been going two days a week, and would normally have gone three days this year). I don’t know if he’s ready, or if *I* am ready for him to go all week just yet though.