Ice hole and sea view

‘It snows in Copenhagen, but it usually doesn't stay on the ground for long, as mild sea air flows quickly melt the snow cover.’
So says the internet.

We say: The internet obviously hasn't been here. Or only in July.

Cool and warm

Since our arrival: snow.
Not symbolic. Not decorative. But child-high, piled up on the right and left sides of the paths like a Scandinavian show of force.

The canals in our neighbourhood? Frozen over.
Not just a delicate ‘oh, there's a little ice at the edge’, but a closed surface that looks like you could hold an ice hockey tournament there soon. That will probably happen too.

Without a hat and gloves, you risk spontaneously turning into a pillar of salt. Only made of ice.

And us?
We are ill.

Coughs. Colds. That diffuse Nordic exhaustion.
Packing our clothes before departure? Didn't manage it. Too ill.
Unpacking at our destination? Happens in slow motion. We're still sick, after all.

So while we're freezing, searching for a second pair of socks among the moving boxes, the following is happening outside:

The hole

Right around the corner: a hole in the ice.

Not metaphorically.
A real hole. Cut into the frozen canal. With bathing steps.

People are standing next to it. Young. Old. Apparently of sound mind.
They climb into the water. Through the hole. Into the ice-cold canal.

No dramatic screams. No last will and testament.

A quick dip. Get out. Put on a bathrobe.
And then they stroll back to their flats as if they had just been splashing around in Berlin's Müggelsee lake in August.

We stand there in our down jackets, feverish inside, frozen stiff outside, trying to comprehend what we are seeing.

The sauna and the shorts

Next to the ice hole: a sauna.
It visibly breathes warmth into the cold air. An architectural commentary on the theme of ‘We can do both’.

The pavements? Immaculately cleared.
The cycle paths? Likewise. As if there were a national emergency number for ‘cycle path not perfect’.

People move through this scene as if it were a slightly cooler spring day. Some with hats. Some without. A few in shorts.

Shorts.

We have obviously ended up with the Vikings.
Except that now they ride cargo bikes and froth oat milk into their coffee after ice bathing.

The mentality in the snow

Perhaps the difference lies less in the weather than in the attitude.

We are still discussing whether we can go to the baker's without a scarf.
Here, people jump into the ice first and then see if they might need gloves.

The internet talked about mild sea air.
We see piles of snow, frozen canals and people voluntarily sawing holes in the ice to jump in.

And as we continue to recover and slowly unpack our winter boxes, it dawns on us: Perhaps the snow really does melt quickly here.

But not the self-image that cold is not a condition – but an invitation.