Crying in Copenhagen

I’ve visited six different countries across the United Kingdom and Europe over the past month, and I’ve been thinking and talking a lot about crying. 

I would say I cry about the same amount as the average, emotionally adjusted person. And though I would love to say that my trip has been all smiles, gelato and castles, it has also tested my patience, made me very ill and thrown me down a flight of stairs, genuinely. So I’ve cried – a bit. And I thought I’d put a unique spin on documenting my travels by explaining why I’ve cried in each location…so long as it’s not incredibly personal and embarrassing. Let’s start in Copenhagen, Denmark.

Copenhagen is a beautiful city of canals with swimming holes looking out on industrial surroundings. It’s most recognizable for the popular neighborhood of Nyhavn, the city’s most Instagrammable spot with colorful buildings, a harbor toting tourists out hourly on canal tours, and plenty of street-side dining looking out on the masses. 

Iconic colorful buildings in Nyhavn a.k.a. Copenhagen’s most recognizable spot. (photo: Lauren Mulvey)

My favorite aspect of Copenhagen was the seamless connection between cityscape and natural landscape. The water is the city’s central organ, connecting streets, neighborhoods and one tourist trap to another. But the city’s locals can be found treating the sidewalk like a beach, laying out on blankets sunning themselves and flipping their silky blonde hair around. Some will even jump into the canal for a cool down.

I had many lovely days exploring the city with new friends/hostel roommates and spending the evenings exploring the city’s food markets and Freetown Christiania, the only place in the city where weed is legal. 

However, while I was in Copenhagen I was nursing a mighty cold with many phases, that felt more like the flu than a cold. Sore throat, runny nose, headaches, cough, trouble breathing. Sounds like COVID-19 right? It wasn’t, but it was some sort of virus. 

On my third day in the city, I had plans to venture around, climb the famed Copenhagen Round Tower and shop at the city’s vintage stores for the day, but my morning was quickly derailed when I realized how sick I was. Which was very. I walked to the store to buy a COVID test and stood in line as sweat dripped down my face, not from the heat, but from a hot flash brought on by my illness mixed with the sheer embarrassment of standing in line with nothing in hand to ask the clerk if they had COVID tests. After taking the test, I felt some relief as my negative result likely meant that I wasn’t going to give COVID to all my lovely roommates. A nice weight off my shoulders, but I was still feeling very sick.

My negative COVID-19 test. My illness still could’ve been COVID as tests aren’t always accurate, but the negative result offered a brief moment of respite during my crazy day. (photo: Lauren Mulvey)

I found an English-speaking doctor who would take me (without travel health insurance) on the outskirts of the city. The catch was the only time slot available was 2:45pm. It was 2:20pm. No time to think, I rushed to the front desk of my hostel and ask them to call me a taxi which arrived in mere seconds. I hopped in and we immediately hit traffic on our way to the office.

I arrived at the office at 2:52pm. The reception desk was empty, but I could hear voices coming from a room with the door ajar. “Hello?” I croaked. “Hullo!” a Danish voice replied. The voice continued to speak with another deeper voice. Soon enough a smiling woman emerged in a floral dress and ushered me into her office. I explained my symptoms and she essentially told me I’m fine, not to worry. I was relieved and also irritated. I am so deluded by the American medical system that I just wanted some damn antibiotics! 

She explained to me why she wouldn’t prescribe me antibiotics, typed something up in Danish and sent me on my way. I paid her with the little cash I had and wandered into the daylight to realize I had no plan for getting back to the city center, a decent drive away.

There are multiple forms of transport in Copenhagen: bus, boat, taxi, etc. But many of those require tourists to have change or a special transportation card. For the city taxi service you need an app which requires you to input and confirm a phone number to make an account. There is no Uber in Copenhagen.

None of these were possible for me because 1. I did not have cash. I gave the last of my cash to the doctor to pay for her services.  2. I can’t verify my phone number because while I’m abroad it technically doesn’t exist. I’m on an E-Sim card which means I can’t text or call from my regular number or receive texts and calls to that number. Nor do I have a temporary European phone number. 3. I don’t have the city transportation card. 4. There was no ATM in the area. 

All of these things are, of course, my fault. I could’ve been better prepared, but in that moment it didn’t matter that I hadn’t prepared, I was stranded. And after an hour of wandering around asking strangers if there was an ATM nearby and how to get back to the city center, it was time to get resourceful. 

I eventually swallowed my pride and sheepishly approached the bus stop just feet away from the office. I knew I didn’t have change, a transportation card, and that the bus requires at least one of these. So I asked some strangers for help by the bus station and they gave me a few coins to pay the bus fare (just one of the many incidents of incredible kindness that 'I’ve encountered on this trip). On the bus ride back, I struggled to hold back tears — I didn’t. I was overwhelmed by my illness, my failure to figure out the situation alone. 

After my strife at the doctor’s office I was able to appreciate that Copenhagen strikes the perfect balance between metropolitan cityscape and tranquil natural oasis. (photo: Lauren Mulvey)

Because this trip is my first big solo trip alone, I want to get through it successfully. And because I have a big ego when it comes to travel, I don’t want to ask for help. These small moments of strife often feel like failures because I hold myself to high standards that are at times unreachable. It’s helpful to remind myself that travel is an amazing opportunity that I’m so lucky to experience, but sometimes it goes wrong. I’ve gotten lost, gone to the wrong address, and made all the rookie travel mistakes possible…multiple times.

Making these mistakes in a foreign country can feel emotionally jarring. Sometimes you just need to cry it out and keep moving. I also learned the hard way that I need to invest in travel insurance for my longer travel stints. It seemed impossible to me that I would get sick abroad seeing as I barely ever get sick at home in the Hudson Valley. I was so wrong about that. You NEED travel health insurance for long-term travel. Unless you’ve got the world’s best immune system, you’ll be exposed to way too many people to not get at least a cold. It’s absolutely worth the investment so you can feel healthy for the trip of a lifetime.