Tur-retur – Episode 1

Resettling in Denmark

Has the magic of Copenhagen faded after six years away?

“Enjoy your day and stay safe!” said the front desk clerk as we walked out of a hotel in Østerbro to wander the city in December 2013. My husband and I were impressed (and slightly confused) by the safety-consciousness of Copenhageners, but figured it must be a cultural thing. Turns out the region was being graced by the ferocious winds of cyclone Bodil (known as Xaver elsewhere in Northern Europe) and the hotel staffer wasn’t just generally concerned with guest welfare.

Despite the high winds making us look at least partially dishevelled in every photo and causing havoc with our train/ferry combo back to Germany, I was amazed with how at ease I was in Denmark. The flat landscape evoked my childhood in a dyke-protected suburb of Vancouver, Canada (highest natural elevation: 12 meters). The gray skies and near-constant potential for rain mirrored the winters I’ve known most of my life (although I’d never before felt such gales!). The julebelysning strung over the streets extended a Christmas-season welcome, echoed by candles and lit up paper stars in apartment windows. The architecture of Christianshavn and the white horses of Christiansborg conjured up fairy tales that contrasted with the city’s industrial/maritime underpinnings. Locals glided by on bikes, black-clad with rosy cheeks, showcasing non-vehicular transit possibilities. Hardier souls than I sat tucked into blankets under restaurant awnings, their Danish conversations (completely incomprehensible to me at the time) offering a glimpse at the connections and comfort of everyday life. 

Being in Copenhagen felt like returning home, albeit slightly more magical. As far as I know, my born-in-Canada grandparents were of Eastern European, Russian, British, and French heritage and I have no Scandi roots, but there’s an almost ancestral pull for me here. 

I was over the moon when my husband accepted a job with Novo Nordisk and we settled in Østerbro in 2016. Then devastated when we moved to Zurich, Switzerland three years later. 

My husband’s journey with Novo Nordisk (and my desire to live in Denmark again) has brought us back to the motherland in 2025, which is much welcome after a two-year stint in the UK (we found it much nicer being tourists in Britain than residents). Our return is so fresh that my CPR has yet to be re-activated (I’m quelling my anxiety about how long SIRI might take to process the reunification visa!) and I’m relying on the surprisingly excellent EU-coverage from my British mobile provider.

Although I’ve been back for at least twice-yearly visits while living in Switzerland and the UK, I’m struck by the differences after six years. There’s more English, more development (and so much more construction underway!) and the expanded metro has made farther-flung areas more accessible. Arriving in January means relatively scant tourists, but I’m sure come summer there will be more sight-seers, too. 

I know people who have experienced jarring expectation disconnects when returning to a place and I’ll be doing my best to approach this return to Copenhagen with fresh eyes and an open mind. Leaving behind expectations that things will be the same as our first tenure and staying curious about the layers of complexity that come with living in Denmark again. Because despite how the church spires, canals, and cobblestones may make it appear, this place is not a fairy tale and relocating is challenging. As we resettle in Copenhagen, I suspect my faith in understanding how to live will be temporarily shaken but in these first days back, I’m immeasurably pleased to have a tur-retur billet (return ticket) for Denmark.