Welcome to Denmark

Day One, aka Jetlag Photojournalism  

Outside the window of our hotel Copenhagen Plaza Hotel: Led Zeppelin has a lifetime ban for trashing their hotel room.

No graffiti artist would dare cover this tag…this was done by one of the old-schoolers, and the new generation of tag artists are respectful of their forbearers.

The docks of Christianshavn

enter Christania...at your own risk. You can't take pics inside...I didn't even notice the guy peeing until after I saw the picture

 Christania was started on an abandoned military base by squatters in 1968.  These kids wanted to create a new utopia.  At the time, the Danish government thought these young hippies were ‘cute’ and left them alone. But these squatters built and thrived, until the government couldn’t legally stop them…they had already created their own society. Christania grew prosperous, creating their own system of money and rules of governing – in other words, this is an enormous commune in a major metropolitan society that is still thriving today.  You can’t live there unless you are a legacy, and there are families that have been there for generations.  Many of the residents have gone on to be lawyers and members of public office (while still residing in Christania). 

 I got this picture from the web: 

The government still has problems with this place…mainly, they want the land.  Recently they attempted a takeover under the auspices of illegal sales of hash…well, it didn’t work.  Instead, the city was a mess…this spurred a violent drug war in Copenhagen proper.  So the government backed off and even admitted wrongdoing.  And Christiania continues, at least for now.  

A picture of Pusher Street taken from the web:  

 I wish I could show pictures, but they don’t allow it.  I don’t even know how to describe this place.  There are endless trails leading to the most insane Dr. Seussical homes, weird structures, installations…everywhere you turn is something dark or whimsical…this is a self-created fantasy world, and everything goes.  There are enormous homes that have been passed from generation to generation…on Pusher Street, people sell blocks of hash and jars of pot from picnic tables.  The bosses look like average guys wearing jeans and baseball caps, but I am told they are millionaires. There are coffee shops where people smoke up and play chess…marijuana plants growing wild…open steam showers where you can buy pots of mud and cover yourself.  There are the children of Christiania, dirty and crouched around the wooden structures they are building…tiny enclaves of nature, where groups listen to music and nap on the grass…I was allowed to take a picture at one of these: 

best Thomas pic ever....

pacifier tree

Outside a bar, old hippies sit around.  A woman in a wheelchair has tokens hanging from her hat – a child’s Converse sneaker, a small Panda bear.  A guy stands up on the bench and giddily removes his pants.  He clutches his crotch and giggles.  No one pays any attention.   A sign has the rules of Christinia drawn in images:  no hard drugs, no weapons, no littering.  Another plus:  Christian has the best outdoor wi-fi in the country. Of course, there are many unpleasant and scary elements of Christania.  And in some ways, it feels like stepping into a fucked up, askew version of what 1969 wanted to be.  But, at the same time, there is something noble about the fact that this hippie society has continued all these years.  

Not to mention, I got a freaking cool coat. And we saw this old Citroen in a shed, and begged the guy for a picture. This one is for you, Chris.