Simple Pleasures: A Spring Diary in Copenhagen

Copenhagen always seems to have an effortless, mesmerising allure to me. I still remember my first time visiting in the summer of 2024, and the line of observation I typed down in my phone as the plane descended – ‘Copenhagen is a city of blue, white, deep orange and viridian’. Nothing too emotional, just a simple yet impactful burst of colours that marked my early memories of the Danish capital.

I suppose that is one reason I adore the city so much. It does not require you to contemplate too deeply, trying to figure out the meanings behind beautiful fountains, historic plazas, and royal palaces – which I often do, happily, in many destinations. Instead, there is an atmosphere of delightful experiences that comes to you naturally without thinking. ‘Aesthetics’ is no longer a term for philosophical debates and scholarship, but a lived phenomenon that seamlessly blends into the everyday. The entire city and its outskirts provide a beautiful breathing space, which is exactly what I need whenever I book a trip between academia and work.

A few days back in April had allowed me to revisit and rediscover Copenhagen’s charm in spring. But impressions are always fleeting, so this piece will be a little archive, an attempt to document some of the quotidian pleasures.

15:04

Peony season. Little buns of white, peach, salmon pink and electric red. A single stem of Coral Sunset already blooming in water, layers of petals slightly curved to reveal golden stamens. How lovely it would be, if I picked up a large bouquet and cycle back to my room – but I shall leave this to the next time.

15:33

Popped into Atelier September just in time to snap up the last slice of lemon cake and order a glass of grapefruit juice. Late afternoon means having the large wooden table all by myself, flipping through cookbooks at length, quietly noting these delicious spring and summer recipes that I know will probably only live inside my mind. Although, the salad with watermelon, cucumber and fresh cheese sounds easy enough to recreate.

Sunlight and a gentle breeze streamed into the room; through the doorway, I could see the orange-yellow apartment block opposite, and a bicycle flashing past. I’ve always loved the air of late spring. A bit chilly – not quite the temperature for tank tops and linen dresses – but that crisp breeze stirring in the sun, traversing through open doors and windows, rummaging through loose hair strands, is like an ice cube dropped into lemonade. Crystal-clear, refreshing, and carrying a hint of anticipation.

19:11

Dinner at Theo. Chocolate cake with mandarin and cocoa sorbet, malt and cocoa tuile. I’m lost for words. The real, satisfying feeling of tasting the ingredients.

I feel this is what Danish cuisine is all about: it consists of seemingly simple, home-style dishes; yet as you chew, they gradually reveal light yet rich layers of flavour.

one morning

The 6:30AM sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains onto the bed. Blue sky announcing another perfect day to explore the city.

But first, BMO and a cup of filter coffee. Went downstairs to eat and people-watch at Riviera, which is only a two-minute walk away – I could actually live this life. Sourdough bun with whipped butter, cheese, homemade berry jam and a soft-boiled egg. Such a blissful combination. Nordic dairy products all have a subtle sweetness to them, something that reminds me of endless green fields shadowed by a blushing sunset. By the way, the freshly squeezed orange juice at Alle Tiders, where I decided to do a second brunch, is absolutely delicious.

16:09

Wandering through the Glyptoteket with nothing on my mind. I long to escape into the world of an oil painting: a French beach, or a Danish forest.

Back in my hotel room. Sitting on the narrow windowsill, I open the window halfway, gaze at the blue sky in the distance, listen to music and let my thoughts dissipate into the air.

20:18

Happiness in Denmark is probably taking a leisurely train ride to the island’s northern tip in the evening. Gazing out at the sea from the familiar art museum, enjoying dinner on an open-air terrace in the ocean breeze, and then, waiting for the sunset.

It turns out that as the sky glows at dusk, the colour of the sea changes from a deep ultramarine to a lighter shade, until the ocean dissolves into a thin mist, leaving only a faint hint of pale blue along the horizon. Across the water, Sweden is bathed in a rosy haze of orange and red, that gradually deepens into fiery hues.

Denmark’s trains are gentle giants. Although I’m always awestruck by the double-decker carriages whenever I’m on the platform, it’s especially at night that the subdued lighting and comfortable, spacious feel of the carriages make for a thoughtful journey home.

11:00

As I passed the florist on the corner, I took a deep breath and caught the scent of hyacinths. Picked up an espresso tonic from April and sat in the park, basking in the sunshine and admiring the cherry blossoms, whilst in the distance I could hear the music from the changing of the guards and the laughter of children at play.

To be continued. For now, these small pleasures will suffice.