The Two Pillars of Danish Civilisation

Two things have epitomised my first fortnight in Copenhagen. Both are seemingly crucial to the day-to-day living of Danish life. They affect what people do and how they fit into city society. I am of course talking about the weather and bikes.

The Weather:
I have been in this city now fifteen days. It has rained at least ten. In fact, it has monsooned (definitely a word) half of those. No wonder the canals are always full: it’s like a tsunami-hit Venice when the gods open up here.

People keep saying (mostly Australians actually) that surely I’m used to such shitty (shiddy) weather, what with me coming from miserable old Britain. No – what I am used to is the mild drizzle of Manchester that occurs maybe once every four hours, or the bitter wind that whacks Leeds in the face. I am NOT familiar – thank you – with feeling like a bedraggled drowned rat after three minutes of walking under an umbrella.

Actually that’s another thing – I used an umbrella two days ago for the first time in years…… felt rather cosmopolitan.

The BBC weather website doesn’t have a clue either. The weather can turn here very quickly. It may as well just say ‘Friday: Stick your head out of the window. If it’s dry, take this opportunity and get outside now!’

I like to think the picture above shows how much the weather and bikes are so closely connected in this city. If it’s dry, the bikes come out. If it rains, the cycle paths become part of the gutter system.

Bikes:
I think everyone between the ages of six and seventy-five has a bike. Apart from me, but that’s merely out of laziness not to go and find one. It’s strange watching old people ride bikes – like when you see a really old gimmer driving a car – you’re just not quite confident that they’re in complete control of their vehicle.

Bikes are a must in this city though. The roads are so wide, traffic so slow and cycle paths so plentiful that to not have a bike is to miss out big time. I’ve almost been hit twice by bikes. The problem is, the Danes drive of the right hand side. Obviously the Brits drive on the proper hand side, but it can sometimes still be confusing when crossing a road.

Now, I appreciate you’re meant to look both ways – those hedgehog adverts weren’t on telly for no reason – but it is subconsciously automatic for me to look right when on the edge of the pavement. This is merely because I am used to doing so, as of course it would be stupid to think anything would be travelling my way from the left. I haven’t been hit yet, but I’m working on it.

Plus I haven’t seen a cyclist crash or fall off yet. Then again, winter’s coming…