TL/DR: Best Danish Ever, the Christian Osama bin Laden, Carlsberg history, Christian the 10th & his secret anti-Nazi movement, Nyhavn Tattoos and the Prostitutes that inspired Hans Christian Andersen, introduced the kids to dope and Anarchy, one was petrified the other embraced it. The Anagram of Tivoli couldn't be more appropriate (I LOV IT), we all adopted Iceland.

It would be a crime to start the first Danish day without a Danish right? First thing we're out the door and heading to the famous Skt. Peder's Bageri - all the way there I'm reminded that I'm the only one that likes pastries and I'm lucky to have such an indulgent family. The martyrdom ended at the window display, even Fid wanted to try almost everything.
 
We're heading back for to meet up with our walking tour when we bump into NJ & family strolling the opposite direction along Strøget. We picked up some tips from their day before then ran off to join our tour. Apparently the only difference between this Rathaus and the Town Hall of Sienna is the humble gold statue of Absalon in the centre. The founding bishop of the city, by all accounts Absalon, was the 13th centuries Christian Osama bin Laden, of course, its probably only the Swedes that feel that way about him, to the Danes he's a saint.

A few steps and we're out the front of Jacob Jacobson's birth house. The father of Carlsberg, Jacob was clearly raised in the Danish tradition of boring name selection. Carlsberg takes its name from the concatenation of his son's name "Carl" and the fact that the brewery proper is established on a hill or "Berg". Jacob was the first one to standardise the "clean yeast" process that is still used today. Later in his life, Jacob decided to give this technology away to anyone that wanted it - so if you ever find yourself feeling like Elon Musk is the wünderkind of open source, remember Jacob Jacobsen. 

We round the corner past the new city hall and stop in front of the birthplace of existential philosophy, where Kierkegaard spent his formative educational years. One of his quotes stuck with me in particular: "To dare is to lose one's footing momentarily. Not to dare is to lose oneself" would go on to form the basis of most of my decisions in Copenhagen :) While in this square we heard King Harold who united the Danes and would go on to lend his name to a technology that unites our devices today, "Bluetooth".

Further on and we find ourselves in Nyhavn. We've been here before, I clocked it as an older version of Darling Harbour, purely an entertainment district. I had no idea about how important this area was. For starters, it was the main merchant harbour into Copenhagen, with all this merchant sailor activity it has the honour of still hosting the worlds oldest Tattoo shop in Tattoo Ole under Nyhavn 17. Remembering that Kierkegaard quote above I decided to try to get a Pirate Tattoo, but you have to book ages in advance. 

The other thing all these sailors attract is prostitution, and all it's attendant misery. It was this very street where Hans Christian Andersen penned most of his tales based on the misery surrounding him, his apartment was in the big red building across from most of the restaurants. Just a block back from his building is the residence of the Prime Minister, the big white apartment building on the corner. A testament to the safety of the environment that he could live in such a densely populated and party-centric neighbourhood. 
 
A little further along and we're in front of the Parliament building. A thoroughfare leads straight through the middle of it, just like in Stockholm, and sitting or not, there are no guards - further echoing their sense of safety. We stop in a square just down from Nyhavn to hear something of Christian the 10th. He was the reigning monarch through the rise of the Nazi party. We heard how Christian the 10th was deeply loved by the people. Having negotiated a free state status for Denmark in a truce with the Nazi's, he would ride his horse around each day reassuring the populace that all would eventually be ok. He is credited with unofficially supporting the Danish resistance and gaining Nazi agreement that all Danes would be treated equally and respectfully. Danish Jews weren't required to wear the Gold Star because Christian has promised all Danes would wear it of the Nazi's insisted the Jewish population did. When the Nazi's took down the Danish flab to raise the swastika, it was Christian that demanded, and succeeded in having it lowered and the danish flag returned under threat that he would sacrifice his life to ensure it happened.
 
Next we're in the royal palaces where four familes co-ordinated the build of their residences. More importantly, one of them is the current home of our Mary. Even though we'd let her know we'd be coming, she wasn't home and hadn't left instructions that we should be well received. We watched the changing of the guard, before heading on the waters edge across from the Maersk funded Opera House across the way in Christianhavn.
 
Our tour over we decided to ditch our planned tour of Christianhavn and just go straight to Christiania for a self guided version. I'm not sure of the real legal status, I'm sure it is mostly theatre, but the guys in "Pusher Lane" really want you to believe you're dealing with some illicit stuff here. "No Photo" signs are everywhere, when I got my camera out to antagonise them they lept up with their faces masked to protest. I didn't realise how big the dope aspect of the place was, we'd really visited to look at a hippy commune. All morning I'd explained to the kids about the rejection of rules and the absolute freedom the residence sought by not being bound to any enforced structure. The kids had two different reactions, Emerson was petrified that the lack of laws was going to spell danger for her, "pickpocket gypsys" would be everywhere. For Max on the other hand a lack of law meant his parents couldn't restrict him. True to his age he tested this out as soon as we passed under the Christiania sign. From that point on he took every opportunity to pack at least three swear words into every sentence, I was filled mild pride as he rattled off the first few lines of "f*** da Police."
 
Back to the dope, it is everywhere. You can't hide from its stink as soon as you pass through the gates. In Pusher Lane it is literally stall after stall of guys selling their wares. We came around a corner to a little house with a windowsill flowerbox growing a row of dalias and dope plants. It was all too much for the girls, Max still swearing his head off was telling me everything he'd learned about Bongs in his PDHPE class, good stuff this education. I had to buy a space cake if for no other reason than to antagonise Gab, and because Kierkegaard said something like Do or Do not, you'll regret it either way. We leave and hail an Uber out the front, I kid you not, weed is growing in the gutter and in the abandoned lot behind it, weed as weed!
 
It's 3ish in the afternoon, we're already at 22k steps today and next up is Tivoli gardens. Emerson has been pointing out all day that Tivoli = I Lov It spelt backwards and she's right - the best amusement park I've ever been too. We're on a mission to do every ride, over the next 7 hours no matter what the weather was, if the ride was going we were on it. The only regret I had was the tall chair ride. Without any doubt the most scared I've been for my life in years. We did a similar thing in the Paris a few years ago, but not at anything like this height. This was thoroughly terrifying. Fid was macking fun of me the whole time, We were in a tandem swing chair so every time he teased me I swung the chair. The blow back from this action was an ever larger cavitation arc only scaring me more - I'd had a few beers at the german hall so it took me too long to catch on to my mistake. 
 
It was close to 11 before we decided to head home, we arrive back at the hostel just in time to see the last 15 minutes of England v Iceland. Hundreds of people had gathered in the two bars to watch the game. The 30 odd English backpackers had been so polite in their earlier conduct that they'd inspired everyone else to chant for Iceland, when the final whistle blew you would have been forgiven for thinking we were in Reykjavik, even the kids and I had adopted Iceland by that stage :)