Trains, Bikes and Pirate Ships

For our last day of sightseeing together, Tessie and I had a goal: to find a playground, preferably one with both swings and slides.

Armed with the tourist office map we'd picked up the day before, we boarded a train at the Hovedbanegården. After realizing we were on the right train but headed in the wrong direction, we disembarked. Oops. Fortunately, the trains come at closely spaced intervals, so we didn't have to wait for long to catch the right train, going the right way.

The playground I'd selected - based solely on its accessibility by train - was still a goodly walk away from the station, and I'd left the stroller behind again, but the morning air was cool and Tessie was excited and happy to be on an adventure. We walked through a residential neighborhood of brick apartment buildings and small shops before arriving at the playground at the corner of Gammelvagt & Sankt Pauls Gade.

There were a couple dozen children already playing when we arrived, and not nearly as many adults as I would have expected. In Copenhagen, I guess it's still considered safe to send children out to play unattended.

Much to my relief, there were swings and slides. There were also a massive sandbox, toy trucks and cars, playground balls, and, for reasons unexplained, hockey sticks. Lastly, there was this thing:

No, it's not as dangerous as it looks: it seems the weight of three children is too much for the one pedaler to move, so when fully loaded, the thing doesn't move a bit. I don't know if that's a design flaw or a design feature.

(I thought Tessie had light skin and hair. Guess I was wrong.)

Eventually, Tessie got her fill of the swings and slides, and her shoes also got their fill of sand, so off we went, detouring through the lovely Kastellet Park, to our next destination, the Danish Resistance Museum.

Yes, I was going to take Tessie to a museum of artifacts documenting the Nazi occupation of Denmark during World War II. I had a plan: I figured, since this museum is a branch of the Nationalmuseet, there were likely to be more of those spiffy free strollers to be had, so she could snack outside, then nap in the stroller while I toured the museum at my leisure.

No strollers.

Not only were no strollers provided, they weren't even allowed, so at least I didn't have to feel dumb for not bringing ours. We gave it a go anyway.

The museum is small and arranged chronologically in a square plan around a central courtyard. Past the admission desk, the entry hall sets the stage by providing historical context, then the visitor proceeds counter-clockwise around the courtyard through exhibits detailing the war years in Denmark. The museum's plan subtly reflects the course of the war: while the courtyard is always in view, the natural light becomes more scarce in the sections depicting the depths of the war. So daylight is in abundance in the sections devoted to before and after the war, but the galleries become dimmer after Danish capitulation, darkest during the period of Nazi reprisals known as "The Terror," and finally brighten again as the end of the war approaches.

Tessie was in no mood for history museums, however, so we didn't make it too far before she began to get restless. I did my best to skim the exhibits while keeping her under control, but it became clear that she just wasn't going to cooperate. Well, it was a lot to ask.

So back out into the fresh air we went, and were instantly confronted with - what else? - a pølser cart. So we got one to share and started walking south, back toward the city center.

Our route took us through the grounds of the Amalienborg Palace, the winter home of the Danish Royal Family. We arrived in time to catch the tail end of a guard change, and we sat down to watch the new guard pace her way across the forecourt of the palace a few times. (Not as stoic as the Palace Guards in London, this one liked to wink and smile at Tessie. The assault rifle she carried made me think twice about starting a conversation.)

Pølser consumed, we continued southward until we reached Sankt Annæ Plads, which seemed to be Copenhagen's embassy district. There, in front of the Swedish embassy, were swings and a slide. These had gone unmentioned by the attendant at the tourist office, and were much closer to downtown than any of the options she provided. Oh well. Tessie enjoyed them just the same, but it began to sprinkle, so we picked up our pace and headed for the subway station at Kongens Nytorv.

It was too early to call it a day, so I decided to visit one last location, and treat Tessie to another train ride. Because a multitude of train lines passed through that station, but we could only use a subset of them, I explained to Tessie that we were looking for specific trains identified by letter. The letters we needed were C, E or H, so I told her to look for the "camel," "elephant" or "horse" trains. She read the letters off the incoming trains, passing on the "apple" and "dolphin" trains, and shouting "Horsey!" when the H train pulled in.

The flaw in this plan became apparent immediately when she boarded the train to find nary a horse in sight. It seems I had created some unrealistic expectations, and tears of disappointment were narrowly avoided. (The other passengers may or may not have been amused by my horsey noises.)

Back to the brewery! This time, we'd actually go inside the new Carlsberg Visitors Center, which replaced the old brewery tour Tessie's Mom and I took nine years earlier, but first we had to get past this guy:
He's an "artist," you see, and this was a "protest." One of his associates explained that they were protesting Carlsberg's lack of generosity to struggling artists. By way of making their point, those boxes below the protester are all tagged as gifts to the causes Carslberg does support, such as the Copenhagen Zoo and Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Hmmm. Way to undermine your argument, guys. It seems they're upset not about Carlsberg's level of giving, just that it isn't directly aimed at them.

Anyway, we passed the laboratory where Carlsberg isolated its proprietary strain of yeast, with the statue of founder J. C. Jacobsen out front...

...and made it to the entrance, complete with more elephants. The gift shop missed a serious marketing opportunity, by the way: no elephants at all. I had been hoping to get Tessie a t-shirt with the symbol of the brewery on it, but had no such luck; nor were there any stuffed animals, posters or anything else in any way pachyderm-related.

What to my surprise should I see upon entering? A stroller. A free stroller; all I had to provide was a phone number to sign it out.

Let's recap:
Satellite of the Nationalmuseet = no strollers.
Brewery = complimentary stroller.
(If only I'd known... )The new visitors' center is less a brewery tour and more a glorification of market penetration and brand expansion. Timelines chart ever-increasing production numbers and document new breweries on six continents. The emphasis seems to be on quantity over quality, but there are also exhibits on the history and science of brewing, and on Carlsberg's role in the community. The mash tuns we saw on our earlier visit are still there,
as are the horses (or at least their descendants):

Tessie fell asleep in the stroller pretty quickly, since she hadn't yet had much of a nap by that time, so she missed the horses, and most of the rest of the tour, but she woke up in time for the bar:

That's my girl. Having overwhelmed their visitors with the whole global domination thing, the fine folks at Carlsberg offer samples at the end of the tour to remind you that, yes, they produce a darn tasty beer, not just a popular one.

Actually, they produce a wide variety of beers, and eight were available on tap at the bar. Only two drink tickets are included in the price of admission, so a decision needed to be made. Fortunately, the bartender was knowledgable (and spoke impeccable English), so I was able to tell him what I like and he offered suggestions. If only I could remember what they were...

Tessie was near exhaustion at this point, so she slept as I carried her back to the train station for our ride back to the hotel. When we arrived, though, the sight of Tessie's Mom revived her and she was ready to go back down to the pool, where we frolicked as a whole family for about an hour.

Soon it was dinner time, and, with that being our last night in Copenhagen, we decided to spend it at Tivoli Gardens, the amusement park and pleasure garden in the center of Copenhagen.

We dined at the same restaurant we'd been to before, but its menu had changed drastically; operating under the same name, Valhal, it was now a Viking-themed burger joint, not a Viking-themed full-service restaurant. It was also amazingly expensive. (A mediocre cheeseburger should not be ~US$20.00.)

While we ate, it began to rain. Hard. And, cleverly, we'd left our rain gear at the hotel. So we finished our meals and ran between the drops to find shelter where we could hear the bands that were still playing.

When the music stopped, the other flaw in our timing became apparent: most of the rides suitable for Tessie had already closed. We wandered the park searching for something one of us could accompany her on, finally settling on a pirate ship ride. So Tessie did get to enjoy one ride at Tivoli before we called it a night and went back to the hotel. Next time, we'll spend a whole day there.