Vi Hygger Os (We are having a cosy time)
Ask a non-Dane what they associate most with Denmark and “hygge” is likely to come up. In the UK the concept of “hygge” is used to sell expensive candles, expensive blankets, expensive clothes – you get the idea. In Denmark though, I’ve learned it’s more about atmosphere and experience than things. Before we moved, we were given the Little Book of Hygge by hygge expert and CEO of the Happiness Research Institute in Copenhagen Meik Wiking. Wiking defines hygge as feeling safe and comfortable in yourself, alone or with others. Hygge is intrinsic to happiness: the word originates from a Norwegian word meaning “well-being”. It’s also about relaxation: if it’s not relaxing, it’s not hygge. Hygge has five dimensions: taste (familiar, sweet, comforting), sounds (any sound you associate with safety), smell (perhaps those that trigger memories of security and childhood), touch (particularly of hand-crafted, warm, small objects) and sight (seeking light but also taking your time to really see what’s around you). It’s literally the opposite of rushing around spending a lot of money on material goods in a flashy department store, which is very much the form of comfort sold to us in the UK.
What seems to unite all the dimensions of hygge is the concept of how you spend your time. In a society concerned with high quality design of everything, from shelving to doctors’ waiting rooms to apps to help you organise almost every aspect of your daily life, designing your time to best effect is also critical. Too often in the UK, I spent my time poorly, running from place to place feeling frustrated, buying things online in futile pursuit of greater self-confidence or a temporary dopamine hit, eating at speed behind the wheel of my car, scrolling my phone instead of looking around me, complaining about the bad weather. In Denmark people just seem to be more mindful of their precious time, designing it in ways that enhance their well-being and creating an environment around them that serves that. As I write this, autumn has arrived in force and it’s been raining continuously for the past two days in Billund. Instead of yearning for the summer again, Danish people seem to embrace the colder weather and plan for it. In other words, when the sun shines you go outside and enjoy it. When it’s cold, you watch the Netflix dramas, read the books and build the LEGO sets you’ve been saving up, knowing this time is coming.
I think hygge has a critical role for internationals adapting to a new country. A good friend here who adopted me just days after I arrived in Denmark, dazed, confused and exhausted, told me to work out what I needed for myself day-to-day to be happy here, and to make sure I got it. I’ve never forgotten that. One of the first exercises I did at the “Thriving in a New Culture” course I went on a few months later was about exploring your own needs, with the hygge-like “What I Need for Myself” top of the list. When you emigrate for a partner’s job, your own needs can fall to the bottom of the list, particularly if you also have dependents. But they too need their hygge environment. I’ve been spending a bit of time this week talking to my wife and my kids (when I could force them out of their rooms) about what this means to them.
Before I moved to Denmark, a few work colleagues told me they were jealous I’d now be able to spend my time “drinking coffee and doing yoga”. I bristled a bit and laughed at the idea. In the UK I’d spent two decades working in intense, stressful jobs and wore it a bit like a badge of honour: “I’m so busy”. “Things are crazy”. The idea of having leisure time seemed a bit shameful, like I wasn’t a person of value if I had time to enjoy myself. But in Denmark, everyone prioritises their leisure time. It turns out two of the things I need most here are coffee and yoga, and I am not ashamed.
I’ve talked before about my love of Espresso House. I’m not actually sponsored by them, but I’m open to it if they want to get in touch! Espresso House is a Place of Comfort for me. Its delicious lattes and kanelsnurres don’t exist in Scotland and they are very important to me. I always feel happy in Espresso House. Their coffee is, in my opinion, the best around, it comes in large mugs and the staff respond to my poor attempts at Danish with patience and a smile. When it’s raining, which it often is, inside it’s warm and dry and it smells good. They let you read your book or write in peace and don’t chase you out into the cold again. I love them.
I love yoga too. Yoga and hygge come from the same sort of place, being about prioritising inner well-being, stillness and appreciation of the moment. I started doing yoga during the pandemic but in earnest soon after moving here. At fraught times, it has provided much-needing grounding and calming. Sometimes you need to just breathe properly, feel your feet rooting you to the ground and know it will all be ok. Sometimes that’s all you can cope with when you’ve just uprooted your whole life, packed it in boxes and shipped it to another country. I would never have thought I’d be the person who rode their bike to an 8am yoga class and loved it but it turns out I am.
Riding my bike brings me a lot of joy too. When I get on my bike, I feel like I’m twelve again. I see and feel things from my bike that I never would from a car windscreen, like hares jumping around or the spray of dew on my legs from the grass. I know I could have ridden a bike in Scotland but I just didn’t. My route to work wasn’t bike-friendly and I was just always too busy. I thought that Bike Riders were some kind of distinct species, with their own uniform, expensive gear and social norms. In Denmark, bikes are for everyone. The bike doesn’t even have to look good – as long as it’s reliable, the simpler the better. Flashy gear is frowned upon in Denmark. You can also leave your bike outside unlocked in the helpfully provided bike shelter and it’s unlikely anyone will steal it. It’s mind-blowing.
Sometimes we need to get away as well though. I’m obsessed with music – besides Last Week in Denmark my side hustles are music journalism and digital marketing for a music podcast. Living in Scotland’s capital city and a short drive from its second biggest one, I had all of this on my doorstep. I went to at least two concerts a month, sometimes more. In rural Denmark, that’s much more of a challenge but I try to do it as often as I can, which means long journeys. Strangely, going away like this has meant I’m always coming back too. I no longer have that fear of not wanting to return to Denmark. Seeing Vejle Station approach from a train window has come to feel more and more like coming home.
As for the rest of the family’s hyggelig times, the 13-year old loves a rollercoaster and finds a lot of comfort in going to LEGOLAND for a couple of hours and riding the Polar X-plorer over and over. He even convinced me to face my fears and try it too, and now we sometimes go together for an hour or two after school because what’s the point of having LEGOLAND on your doorstep if you can’t take joy in it? There’s definitely some kind of metaphor in here as well for embracing new and daunting experiences. The ride can be terrifying but the more times we ride it, the more familiar it is and we get off in one piece, exhilarated and laughing. He’s also looking forward to the new series of The Great British Bake-Off, only this year we’re all going to try to improve our very basic level Danish by watching the local version of Den Store Bagedyst! If nothing else, we’ll be able to order a range of cakes and pastries in Danish to comfort us over the winter!
The 11-year old prefers hygge to come in seated form, with a large fluffy blanket and the cat on his lap. The cat and the 11-year old have a special relationship. I think this has a lot to do with the fact he sits down a lot more than the rest of us. The 11-year old also loves Tunnock’s Caramel Wafer biscuits, a Scottish delicacy friends bring us when they visit but which I’ve discovered are also hugely popular here in Denmark amongst the locals. Recently, our Danish handyman excitedly texted me to tell me our local Netto had some in stock but by the time he ran there, the shelf was bare. The 11-year old and my wife have also developed an unlikely addiction to the Australian soap opera Neighbours since we moved to Denmark. They will savour the coming of winter as a chance to spend more time under the fluffy blanket watching the residents of the fictional Ramsay Street cheat, lie and feud with each other. It all seems not very Danish, but I think about how the characters in Neighbours also enjoy simple pleasures like spending time at home with each other and drinking coffee in the local cafe and it actually seems quite “hygge” after all.
Alongside Neighbours, my wife’s main comfort is LEGO, and lots of it. Every time I open a cupboard, there is more of it. I know this is buying goods so technically not hygge but she’s also contributing to the success of an organisation that itself is quite “hygge” so I think it counts. She’s probably one of LEGO’s biggest fans within LEGO itself. The dining table is regularly half-covered with piles of bricks sorted by colour and size. This isn’t Danish design principles invading her brain – she’s always done this. Turns out she was born to live in Denmark.
Maybe of all of us, though, it’s actually the cat who’s embraced hygge best. The cat is living her best life in Denmark. She happily survived a nine-hour journey, two flights and an undignified airport security search to verify she wasn’t smuggling narcotics into the Nordics. Within half an hour of arriving in her new home, she was calmly eating her dinner. Since then, we’ve moved the cat to a new house and subjected her to an invasive teeth operation and she’s still perfectly happy. The cat loves exploring her new garden (she’s outdoors more than she ever has been), having stand-offs with the ginger cat next door, eating food and sitting on the back of the sofa watching the world go by. This is all the cat needs to have a top-tier day. She’s sitting there as I type this, a perfect example of how to adapt and thrive in a new environment. We can learn a lot about hygge from cats!
The other thing I realise when I look at our “hygge” lists is the way the old blends with the new: what brings us comfort is aspects of Denmark as well as aspects of home. Maybe that’s another reason why hygge is so important for internationals: in immersing ourselves in the sights, sounds, smells, textures and tastes of the new country we come to know it better, even love it.
(I’m slowly building a Substack to host this column plus my other writing, which is mainly music-focused. Follow me at: https://substack.com/@alilewis1)
