I came to Copenhagen because I had never been here before. And, as I was living in Maine at the time, I found a cheap direct flight from Boston to Europe. I was mildly interested in Viking history and considered myself an avid fan of Scandinavian crime fiction, having read Stieg Larson's Millenium trilogy as well as a few detective novels by Norwegian author Jo Nesbo. I had read a few polls stating Denmark to be the top country in several lists from the least corrupt nation, to the highest taxed, and even the happiest. I discovered the concept of hygge through random Amazon searches and then typed in Scandinavia at the Southwest Harbor Library, which contained a Rick Steves travel guide and The Almost Nearly Perfect People, an insight into the Nordic utopia of Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Finland. With a few months in between jobs, I decided to make a trip through northern Europe as winter approached.
I booked a room at a boisterous hostel that attracts mostly young foreigners enticed by the common room that becomes a pub at night. I chose the hostel because of the price (about $27 per night) included a shared dinner, a bonus that fit my meager budget of $75 per day, a task that is not so easy in the highly-taxed Nordic countries. Copenhagen is a ridiculously expensive city. I bought a deluxe hot dog for $18 and high-quality cup of hot chocolate for eight bucks, and these were from street vendors. I haven't considered going to an actual restaurant because the prices are too high. This might seem miserly, but I am trying to spend over a month in these countries without over-straining myself financially.
On the first day I walked to Christiania, a collectivist hippy commune that declares itself a Free State (i.e. not Denmark and not the EU). Originally, the man-made island was designed to fortify Copenhagen from the Swedes, who attacked the Danes quite frequently as Denmark once ruled them. The gulf between the two countries is so miniscule that today a bridge spans from Copenhagen to Malmo in southern Sweden. Even after Denmark had lost most of its empire, the island of Christiania was used for military purposes until the 1970s. When the place was abandoned, squatters moved in. The police tried to force them out, but the people of Christiania did not put up a fight and so were allowed to stay. The social experiment began.
The people of Christiania formed a collectivist society rather than a democracy in which the majority vote wins. In town meetings, everyone must agree on a topic before action is taken. No cars are allowed in the Free State, and plenty of creative artists have chosen to live in Christiania. There are tiny homes, colorful shacks, quaint cottages, camper vans, and even a house made of windows. When I visited Christiania, I saw several small children playing in a field. A sign in English thanked me for wanting to visit the area but advised me to choose a different route so as not to disturb the kids. The closing line was not "Sincerely" or "Thank you" but "Big Hugs." As I squelched through the muddy, unpaved paths, I yielded to a small Danish girl riding a pony.
"She isn't dangerous," the girl said, but still I gave the animal a wide berth.
A few blocks away I found the famous Pusher Street, where dealers sell marijuana out in the open just as the hot dog vendors do. I saw signs advertising different varieties and a price tag that said 3 g for 100DKK, which is roughly fifteen dollars. I noticed a few vendors offered free sniffs to any potential buyer who remained unpersuaded but desired a sample. An American I befriended actually approached a dealer with no intent to buy, as he did not smoke, to which the dealer replied: "You should start."
The neighborhood reeked of weed, and several pedestrians smoked blunts as they walked down the street. Marijuana is illegal in Denmark, so the place is no stranger to police raids. The dealers sell their product in plastic containers which sit in a fold-up bag in an open stall. This system is designed for fast escapes. If they need to high-tail it, they simply pick up their tote bags and run. The sale of marijuana here is no secret and has, in fact, become a tourist attraction, but most police are willing to look the other way because when drug-dealing is contained less violence ensues.
Hard drugs were once sold on the car-less streets of the commune, and a few people died of overdoses. The Free Towners voted to evict the addicts and banned the sale of hard drugs, which opened the market for marijuana. After a dealer shot a policeman in the head, officers shut the area down. The dealers started battling over new turf, and violent crime rose. Christiania opened once more, and the containment theory seems to be successful in lowering drug-related crime. Anyone who has seen The Wire will be reminded of Hamsterdam.
Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of Pusher Street because taking photos of dealers is a major faux pas. A tour guide has related stories of dealers destroying phones and smashing cameras all for the sake of anonymity. I only took a picture of the famous exit sign that reads: You are now entering the EU. For a place that sells drugs in direct defiance to the government, the place doesn't feel unsafe or sketchy at all. I even saw a family of four taking in the sites, and the parents, I imagine, were explaining to their children the benefits of decriminalizing marijuana, a lesson the United States is learning state by state. Christiania will have the opportunity to legalize weed if its citizens can scrounge up enough money to buy the land from the government so that they can form their own country. They already have their own currency: silver coins with decals that range from snails to a bicycle cart.
I booked a room at a boisterous hostel that attracts mostly young foreigners enticed by the common room that becomes a pub at night. I chose the hostel because of the price (about $27 per night) included a shared dinner, a bonus that fit my meager budget of $75 per day, a task that is not so easy in the highly-taxed Nordic countries. Copenhagen is a ridiculously expensive city. I bought a deluxe hot dog for $18 and high-quality cup of hot chocolate for eight bucks, and these were from street vendors. I haven't considered going to an actual restaurant because the prices are too high. This might seem miserly, but I am trying to spend over a month in these countries without over-straining myself financially.
On the first day I walked to Christiania, a collectivist hippy commune that declares itself a Free State (i.e. not Denmark and not the EU). Originally, the man-made island was designed to fortify Copenhagen from the Swedes, who attacked the Danes quite frequently as Denmark once ruled them. The gulf between the two countries is so miniscule that today a bridge spans from Copenhagen to Malmo in southern Sweden. Even after Denmark had lost most of its empire, the island of Christiania was used for military purposes until the 1970s. When the place was abandoned, squatters moved in. The police tried to force them out, but the people of Christiania did not put up a fight and so were allowed to stay. The social experiment began.
The people of Christiania formed a collectivist society rather than a democracy in which the majority vote wins. In town meetings, everyone must agree on a topic before action is taken. No cars are allowed in the Free State, and plenty of creative artists have chosen to live in Christiania. There are tiny homes, colorful shacks, quaint cottages, camper vans, and even a house made of windows. When I visited Christiania, I saw several small children playing in a field. A sign in English thanked me for wanting to visit the area but advised me to choose a different route so as not to disturb the kids. The closing line was not "Sincerely" or "Thank you" but "Big Hugs." As I squelched through the muddy, unpaved paths, I yielded to a small Danish girl riding a pony.
"She isn't dangerous," the girl said, but still I gave the animal a wide berth.
A few blocks away I found the famous Pusher Street, where dealers sell marijuana out in the open just as the hot dog vendors do. I saw signs advertising different varieties and a price tag that said 3 g for 100DKK, which is roughly fifteen dollars. I noticed a few vendors offered free sniffs to any potential buyer who remained unpersuaded but desired a sample. An American I befriended actually approached a dealer with no intent to buy, as he did not smoke, to which the dealer replied: "You should start."
The neighborhood reeked of weed, and several pedestrians smoked blunts as they walked down the street. Marijuana is illegal in Denmark, so the place is no stranger to police raids. The dealers sell their product in plastic containers which sit in a fold-up bag in an open stall. This system is designed for fast escapes. If they need to high-tail it, they simply pick up their tote bags and run. The sale of marijuana here is no secret and has, in fact, become a tourist attraction, but most police are willing to look the other way because when drug-dealing is contained less violence ensues.
Hard drugs were once sold on the car-less streets of the commune, and a few people died of overdoses. The Free Towners voted to evict the addicts and banned the sale of hard drugs, which opened the market for marijuana. After a dealer shot a policeman in the head, officers shut the area down. The dealers started battling over new turf, and violent crime rose. Christiania opened once more, and the containment theory seems to be successful in lowering drug-related crime. Anyone who has seen The Wire will be reminded of Hamsterdam.
Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of Pusher Street because taking photos of dealers is a major faux pas. A tour guide has related stories of dealers destroying phones and smashing cameras all for the sake of anonymity. I only took a picture of the famous exit sign that reads: You are now entering the EU. For a place that sells drugs in direct defiance to the government, the place doesn't feel unsafe or sketchy at all. I even saw a family of four taking in the sites, and the parents, I imagine, were explaining to their children the benefits of decriminalizing marijuana, a lesson the United States is learning state by state. Christiania will have the opportunity to legalize weed if its citizens can scrounge up enough money to buy the land from the government so that they can form their own country. They already have their own currency: silver coins with decals that range from snails to a bicycle cart.
