Hot takeHygge is Denmark’s best export, and Danes mostly skipped the book.
In 2016 Collins named hygge its runner-up word of the year, behind Brexit, and a shelf of books followed — ‘mostly read by foreigners’, as Denmark’s own official website puts it. The scented candles, blankets and soft jumpers are the export. The real thing costs nothing: people you like, a long dinner nobody wants to end, low light. It is not for sale on Strøget.
Reality checkThe Little Mermaid is 1.25 metres tall. Go anyway, for the walk.
Edvard Eriksen’s bronze has sat on her rock at Langelinie since 1913, and she is smaller than every photo suggests. She has also lost her head twice, in 1964 and 1998, and got it back once. Make her the end of a harbour walk past the five-pointed ramparts of Kastellet rather than the point of the day, and she is lovely.
Only hereThe harbour is clean enough to swim in, and Copenhageners do.
The first harbour bath opened at Islands Brygge in 2002, the reward for years of cleaning up the water, which is now about as clean as the open Øresund. From early June to late August the baths are packed on every sunny day. After heavy rain they can close for a couple of days while the tide flushes the harbour; the water quality is published online, so check before you jump.
Unwritten rulesThe cycle track is not the pavement. The bell is the polite version.
Nine in ten Danes own a bike, and Copenhagen’s cycle tracks carry commuters in suits, parents with children in cargo boxes and very little patience. Stepping into one for a photo is the classic visitor mistake: the bell is the warning, and there is rarely a second. On some one-way streets bikes may ride both ways, so look both ways too.
Food rulesSmørrebrød has an order, and it starts with herring.
The open sandwich on dark rye is eaten with a knife and fork, and a proper lunch runs in courses: herring first, then the other fish, then meat and salads, cheese last. Nobody will fine you for starting with the roast beef, but someone will notice. Order dyrlægens natmad — ‘the vet’s midnight snack’: liver pâté, salt beef, aspic — for the name alone.