GruffyddA Journal Entry
I landed in Copenhagen at the end of January, the kind of cold that feels fresh at first and then quietly creeps into your bones. I was on my own for this one, three nights in a party hostel that promised “good vibes and bad decisions.” It delivered both, though in a quieter, more Scandinavian way.
First Impressions
Copenhagen feels instantly put together, clean, modern, efficient, but underneath all that design and order, there’s this effortless charm. It’s a city that doesn’t need to shout about how cool it is. The bikes, the minimalist cafés, the people who somehow all look like they were born for magazine covers, it’s just Copenhagen being Copenhagen.
Even in January, when the daylight barely stretches to late afternoon, the city feels alive. Candles flicker in windows, people huddle over coffee, and every restaurant seems to glow with that Danish hygge, that impossible-to-translate sense of warmth and comfort.
Exploring the City
One of the first things I did was a boat tour through the canals. Bundled up in coats and scarves, we drifted quietly past the colourful houses of Nyhavn, the royal palace, and the sleek modern buildings that give the city its reputation for design. The water was calm, the sky a pale grey, and you could see your breath in the air, somehow still beautiful in its simplicity.
Later, I walked out to Kastellet, the old star-shaped fortress that’s now a park. It’s one of those places that feels frozen in time, neat red barracks, windmills, and locals jogging past while you’re still trying to feel your fingers. From there, it’s a short walk to the Little Mermaid statue, smaller than you expect but oddly peaceful against the icy sea.
Everywhere you go in Copenhagen, there’s this sense of quiet order. Trains run on time. People wait patiently at traffic lights. It’s almost unnerving if you’re used to chaos, but also refreshing.
Nights Out
In the evenings, I set out to explore the bars. Copenhagen has a mix of sleek cocktail spots and cosy dive bars, all with that same understated aesthetic, wood, candles, and soft jazz humming in the background.
I learned quickly that drinks aren’t cheap, and that sometimes there’s even a local price and a tourist price, not ideal for the budget, but a good reminder that you’re in one of the world’s most expensive cities. Still, you find a way to make it work.
One night I ended up at a karaoke bar, belting out songs with strangers who all seemed too polite to tell me how bad I was. Later, I stumbled into a McDonald’s, where I met a group of American students studying abroad. We spent an hour chatting about travel, university, and how Copenhagen somehow manages to be both calm and cool at the same time.
That’s one of the best things about solo travel, those random late-night conversations that mean nothing and everything all at once.
Vibe & People
Copenhagen has a rhythm all its own. The locals are friendly but reserved, polite but warm once you break through that initial layer of calm. You’ll see people sipping beer outside under heaters, wrapped in blankets, refusing to let the cold ruin their plans. It’s a city built for balance, work and rest, design and comfort, minimalism and meaning.
Everywhere you turn, there’s a sense of ease. The cafés serve coffee so strong it could wake the dead, the bakeries are filled with kanelsnegl (cinnamon swirls that make you forget the price), and everyone seems perfectly content doing their own thing.
Final Thoughts
When I left Copenhagen, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what made it so special, it’s not wild or chaotic, it’s not overly loud or emotional, it’s just effortlessly cool. A city that feels both futuristic and timeless, full of quiet confidence and small pleasures.
It’s the kind of place that makes you want to slow down, dress better, and drink more coffee. Cold outside, warm inside, hygge in every sense of the word.
Copenhagen didn’t blow my mind, it calmed it. And that, I think, is the point.
