In the fall of 1971 a group of young locals climb through the fences overtaking an abandoned military site and proclaimed it the Free Town of Christiania in protest against the acute housing shortage in Copenhagen. Christiania is in that sense a product of the sixties revolutionary youth and squatter movement. The government was somewhat baffled about the whole situation, but in 1973 Christiania was labeled a ‘social experiment’. During the years Christiania has been an arena of contest between supporters and opponents, but somehow it has managed to survive for more than 30 years, in no small part because of a wide support from the public.

Christiania 

Photo by Morteno

Written by Ulla Sauerberg, editor of the book The CPH Guide

For two years I worked as a tourist guide showing visitors all the splendors that Copenhagen has to offer. The blockbuster of the tour was never The Little Mermaid or New Harbour, but Christiania: A place (in)famous for being a social experiment of alternative lifestyle but especially for its main attraction, Pusher Street, due to the hundreds of stalls openly selling hash.

Photo by Morteno

Nowadays Pusher Street no longer exists. The hash stands were torn down in January 2004, and Pusher Street has been sarcastically renamed Copper Street because of the many raids and the number of police men present. That’s not to say that you can’t buy cannabis, the market has just become much less open.

Although the character of its main street has completely changed, Christiania is still well worth a visit because it is - and always has been - so much more than Pusher Street.

Photo by Ulla Sauerberg

In Christiania you’ll find everything from the minimal wooden shack to circus wagons built together and even a house built like a UFO. Unsurprisingly you can buy several books on Christiania’s alternative architecture, its “shabby chic” interior design and plenty of information on its long and colorful history.

Photo by Ulla Sauerberg

When going to Christiania, just remember that it isn’t Disneyland. It wasn’t built to satisfy tourists. This is a place where people actually live and work. On my guided tours I’ve experienced visitors complaining that the locals are unfriendly and unaccommodating. But it’s important to understand that sometimes the locals get slightly annoyed with tourists invading their private space or taking their pictures as if they were animals in a zoo.

Photo by Ulla Sauerberg

Please don’t take photographs in Christiania, at least not around the main streets or of the people without at least having the common decency to ask for permission. As one Christianite put it, it’s not so terribly fun coming out of the communal showers only to find 15 tourists taking pictures through the windows …

Is it safe? That’s a question I’ve been asked a lot. Yes, in my humble opinion. At least I’ve never experienced any unpleasantness as long as you respect the given boundaries. If anything, people are just stoned and thereby pretty harmless.

Photo by Morteno

It is important to stress that Christiania has always been highly controversial. To the supporters the community is a symbol of social latitude, creativity, openness and an alternative way of life. To the opponents Christiania mocks the rules of society (and many are perhaps displeased with the fact that it sits on such a prime piece of Copenhagen real estate?).

Photo by Ulla Sauerberg

In the spring 2004 the Danish Parliament passed a bill stating that Christiania should be “normalized”, which among other things means that many of the odd self-built houses on the embankments are to be torn down. The negotiations between Christiania and the state have been going on for more than four years now, and nobody knows exactly what the future will bring and how many houses are to be cleared.

Photo by Morteno

One thing is for sure though: If you want to experience Christiania before it becomes too ‘normalized’, then take a day off to explore the area.

There is an official guided tour every Sat-Sun at 3pm, daily in the summer period, that leave from the main entrance. The tour costs 30 DKK (approx.4 EUR) and is mostly concentrated around down-town Christiania.

www.christiania.org 

Extract from the book The CPH Guide edited by Ulla Sauerberg and published by Nyt Nordisk Forlag. 

Is it strange, when visiting a vibrant city, to seek out the local dead? Why do cemeteries – full of old stones and ancient history - attract so many modern travelers? Momondo asked our city bloggers to unearth an explanation and give us the low-down on the neighborhood necropolis. You'll read about the best burials in Berlin, the most entertaining interments in Prague, plus tips on what JP Sartre likes on his Paris grave and about Soeren Kierkegaard's and Karl Marx's last resting places in Copenhagen and London. Are you ready to go beneath the surface?

Assistens cemetery 

Discovering this place on my doorstep was like waking up to find your pet dog has had puppies under your bed.

OK, it’s a cemetery but it’s beautiful in a peculiarly understated way.

Photo by Chat_K

You can wander round it every day and never take the same route twice. It’s a sprawling maze of a place with dozens of nooks and crannies where you can lounge around in the summer and catch a few rays. People treat it more or less as a public park so don’t be too perturbed by the sight of a few bikini-clad girls soaking up the sun. Not that that’s why I like it so much you understand.

It was originally conceived as an overspill for the crowded central cemetery but word of its attractiveness quickly spread. It rapidly became the place to be buried - something evidenced by the eternal presence of no less a personage as Hans Christian Andersen.

Photo by David Christiansen

Soren Kierkegaard’s last resting place (left) can also be found here. It’s the nearest thing Denmark has to Jim Morrison’s grave in Pere Lachaise, Paris, and there’s almost always a few straggly-haired philosophy students hanging around.

Photo by Double Feature

A lot of people use it as a shortcut to Noerrebrogade from Jagtvej or vice versa but most simply come and take a leisurely stroll and enjoy their surroundings.

You quite often see groups gathered round a grave, raising a beer to someone recently departed. Typically of the Danes, they don’t crow about their city’s attractions that much but this really is one of Copenhagen’s hidden gems.

Bankeraat is probably the strangest little cafe I’ve found in Copenhagen.

Stuffed animals abound. Louche artist types lounge around reading the thoughtfully provided array of foreign papers and staff sit at the bar drinking red wine.

This is boho paradise. I expected an improv poetry reading to begin at any moment.

I had nachos and a cappucino and sat next to a stuffed pelican who leaned over and explained that I hadn’t paid the tithe. When I asked what he meant he regurgitated a kipper onto my lap and flew off through the open window.

Not really. It was a herring.

It’s a lovely little place actually. It’s open til midnight and quite close to the centre of town so it’s a great place to start a night. If I lived any nearer I’d make it my local and probably make loads of annoyingly hip friends and grow a one-sided mullet.

BANKERAAT, Ahlefeldtsgade 27-29,  Copenhagen

Photo: Multikev

Lurking in a particularly unpicturesque quarter of Noerrebro, rather like a rainbow fish in a heron’s gullet, Tjili Pop is a uniquely ramshackle little cafe you will fall in love with. Much in the same way you fell in love with your first remotely attractive primary school teacher.

It’s the kind of place you’ll casually refer to when you happen to be strolling around Noerrebro: ‘Oh yeah, I know this great little place just round here. You’ll love it. They have table football and they do great smoothies.’

Photo: Sepruda

Like the best Copenhagen cafes, Tjili Pop is defiantly uncategorisable. Neither out and out foodie nor exclusively boozy, it’s there for whatever you want I guess.

Which for most of the would-be bohos round here means hanging out in tight trousers and waistcoats doing nothing in particular.

Arch comments aside, it’s well worth a look. There’s live music on Wednesdays plus it’s open til 3 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays.

TJILI POP, Rantzausgade 28, Copenhagen

As part of its ongoing Vi Kbh’r campaign (Us Copenhageners), Copenhagen city council has branded over 50 benches with its ‘Oplev forskellighed’ messaging (Experience diversity).

The benches, all painted in striking colours and bearing the URL and the slogan ‘Vi KBH’r taler sammen (Us Copenhageners chat together), are dotted in various city centre locations and are intended to encourage debate between citizens from different cultural and ethnic backgrounds.

While it’s pretty fanciful to think that two complete strangers will start swapping their life stories because of a bench, it’s still a noble aim. If nothing else, the benches do look pretty awesome.

Here’s some text from the section of the website that’s translated into English:

The goals of the campaign
“Copenhagen should be a whole city, where people live safely together with respect for diversity and fundamental common values such as freedom of speech and expression, democracy and equality.”

(Vision from the Copenhagen Council’s Integration Policy ‘06)

VI KBH’R is a 3-year running campaign and has the following goals:
• To strengthen inclusion and dialogue between the city’s citizens
• To highlight and celebrate the city’s diversity

The campaign will contribute to the prevention of polarization and radicalization in Copenhagen.

Given what I wrote only recently, I feel extremely heartened by initiatives such as these.