Mini breaks are a swirling nebula of nonsense.
How can anyone go somewhere new
and be expected to enjoy themselves without a decade to decompress.
With no idea where to go, how to eat or what to do,
it's impossible to stop
the whole thing turning into a monumental fudge up!
But do not tether yourself to a rack and rend yourself asunder.
With no mandate whatsoever,
I, a weak man, containing some of the key elements of Richard Ayoade
have come to your aid.
Accompanied by a whole quiver of well-known faces,
I am going to take you hurtling through a foolproof maxi-mini break.
This is travel without mercy.
Tonight, 48 Hours In Copenhagen,
the most visited destination in Scandinavia.
The style-saturated Danish capital has been voted Europe's most
green city and is the home of Nordic Noir.
And to be the Cagney to my Lacey, is amateur wrestler
and comedian, Noel Fielding.
A friend of mine got touched up on a ghost train once.
Together we will aggressively examine national cuisine...
Whey!
Whoo!
..descend into the underworld...
This is where they used to shower in the '80s.
..and cop a cup of cultural enrichment.
Where the BLEEP is Mike?
As we take you on a weekend away
based on the summary of events you've just heard.
We're here, but should we have come?
If time is your ally, a bod can get the train to Copenhagen via
Brussels, thus careering through a couple of capitals.
Or travelling by car and ferry can give a cat many
multiples of perambulatory permutations.
But we don't have time to dawdle or conserve the world's dwindling
fuel supplies, so we're going by plane.
They call me the Gothic Elvis.
Suspicious Minds. I look a bit like Elvis but, unfortunately,
it's the bit just before he died.
When he was loaded up on burgers and bad dreams. Yeah!
Obviously, you didn't get my memo,
I wanted to go to Hawaii. Why are we going to Copenhagen?
Well, I'll tell you why.
Copenhagen is the capital of Denmark.
With a population of just under two mill,
Copenhagen is the largest city in Scandinavia and,
according to the massively chillaxed dudes at Lonely Planet,
the coolest.
You have Copenhagen to thank for Hans Christian Andersen,
Sandi Toksvig, Lego, the pedal bin
and my old adversary, the pH scale.
And if that wasn't enough to make you sick to the middle,
the city top UN charts for the happiest place on Earth!
A weekend in the Danish capital will cost around £257,
a figure we may well exceed through arrogance.
After a frankly unfilmable airport transfer, we rock up at our digs.
This is delightful.
Welcome to Hotel Alexandra and welcome to Copenhagen.
Located in central Copenhagen,
the Hotel Alexandra is dense with Danish design classics.
The rooms also act as a short-term storage solution
for the TV series Mad Men.
Nice.
I'm very happy with this.
The entire affair is a mid-century triumph.
What are you doing?
Are you tarrying in mid-century Danish modernism?
What did I tell you about tarrying amongst mid-century pieces?
I'm just enjoying the tiny chairs.
We've got 48 hours to wrap this shiz up.
Like Murphy and Nolte before us.
This was going to be a holiday
not one of your weird, anally-retentive fright fests.
HE CHUCKLES
Copenhagen's committed cadre of cyclers
clock up 1.3 million kilometres a day.
So taken are we with this statistic, we've decided to get our
spoke game tight and join one of the city's most popular tours.
The bikes are very simple.
Our guide is Mike,
who's motto is, "If I am going too fast then you're on the wrong tour,"
which doesn't sound like it's going to catch on as a motto.
Kick stand, you pull it down.
Held by left, bike falls over.
Even time bike goes down - trouble.
Three gears on the bikes, look here.
One, two, three - little handle here.
If you pedal push and change gear at the same time,
you screw up the gear system. We have a lot of trouble.
Mike The Bike does not like trouble.
If the kerb hits the front wheel, you know what happens.
Trouble?
Folks - we're leaving. Come on.
Come on, you need to keep up with Mike The Bike. Mike's not waiting.
Where's Mike The Bike gone?
He's gone. He didn't wait.
Mike waits for no man.
I'll tell you what Mike doesn't like.
Is trouble. Trouble.
THEY LAUGH
We can only hope against hope to find Mike before he tears past
Copenhagen University,
the Danish Design Museum,
the Secret Service and the Little Mermaid.
Where the BLEEP is Mike?
Where...? Mike!
Where's Mike The Bike?
Mike The Bike has gone.
I'm getting the feeling he does NOT want us on his tour.
'After desperately wheeling past some of Copenhagen's leading sights...'
Oh, he's over there.
'..we catch up with Mike at the medieval Copenhagen University,
'one of the oldest in Northern Europe.'
This is beautiful.
Back in old times here in Denmark, we Danish Viking,
you from somewhere else in the world,
I would kill all the men, rape the women,
steal all your belongings and burn down anything that was left over.
Surely they'd mention that on TripAdvisor.
Come on, folks.
He hates us.
Where's Mike?
Mike has left us for dead once more.
'Sadly Mike The Bike, like his Viking ancestors before him,
'is on an unstoppable rampage of forward momentum,
'leaving us languishing in his wake.
'Furious at our betrayal,
'we abandon the tour and power on to its last stop on our tod.'
Why? Because we simply could not have lived with ourselves had
we not seen what must be described as a statue
of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid.
This is the most visited attraction in Denmark.
She's quite beautiful.
I'm not saying I'd get off with her, but she's quite attractive.
It's quite a bleak backdrop. Yeah.
It's a bit like the end of Get Carter. Yes.
Yeah, like Newcastle! I wonder what Mike The Bike would have to say?
In sore need of chow to help fuel our epoch-defining quest,
it's time for smorrebrod.
Who would dare call themselves a person if they went to
Copenhagen without trying a traditional Danish open sandwich?
These smorrebrods are the melon farming bomb.
I'm taking Noel to Aamanns Deli, which is rated by tyre manufacturers
Michelin as the top place to try them.
Get involved. Yeah.
Are we going to sit side-by-side? Yeah.
That's how you always sit in a cafe, isn't it?
So you can check the exits.
I've pre-ordered some stuff so we don't have to have
two interactions.
'Some fascist decided that smorrebrod has to be eaten left to right
'and washed down with a glass of schnapps.'
It's very pleasingly put together.
I might just varnish it and wear it like a pirate's hat.
Would you like to know what you're having?
I would like that.
So for you, you have the beetroot puree.
The next one is the pork. Yes.
With pear. OK.
And the next one is the rump. The rump.
It looks beautiful. Thank you very much. Enjoy.
Gosh. Wow!
Subway could certainly learn something. Presentation? Yeah.
Oh, wow!
Wow! It's pretty...
You started in the middle. Oh!
You go left to right like you read. Oh, yeah.
Oh... Oh.
I'm going to sip some schnapps. Really? Mmm.
That's... I've got nothing to lose.
You've got a lot to lose.
NOEL COUGHS
Whey!
Whoo! OK... HE COUGHS
It's like Castrol GTX.
NOEL CHUCKLES I'm just going to smell it.
Even you smelling that will mean you'll probably leave here...
I feel dizzy.
I've seen you drunk once.
It was unbelievable.
What happened?
You did quite a lot of impressions of Orson Welles. Did I?
Yeah. That's my go-to.
I must have had a unit.
You were out of control.
I don't know.
What I'd quite like now...
This must be an English thing, is a hot liquid.
I feel like it would ease this down. Yes.
Because everything is quite cold.
It's not a complaint, I'm not used to eating food...
It sounds quite a bit like a complaint.
It sounded like a complaint. It wasn't.
That deafening silence that I just heard descend upon the kitchen.
No...
That's two of their staff put their heads into their very cold oven.
They've taken it pretty hard.
OK?
As powerful as this is, I'm full.
I'm going to leave this amount because that shows I have restraint.
I don't want to touch this one because it's too beautiful,
colour-wise.
And it's raw meat.
Our guts full of smorrebrod, it's time to bust.
Copenhagen prides itself on artistic innovation, so we're heading to
one of its many contemporary galleries to cop some culture.
And in order to so do we must make like beat combo The Jam,
and go underground.
Can I be Weller? No.
I don't want to be Bruce Foxton again.
I'm always Bruce Foxton in our Jam role play.
The Cisterns functioned as Copenhagen's water reservoir
until 1933.
Now an exhibition space,
the current attraction is an installation entitled 'H' -
an evocative tone poem comprising 28 columns of illuminated
water power showering the cobbles.
Are these just communal showers?
Yeah.
This is where they used to shower in the '80s.
You'd get Ian Rush in there.
Jan Molby... Jan Molby's Danish? Yeah.
Look how I wove it back into Denmark.
Shall we go? I think I've taken everything I can.
Fully artistically satisfied, we press on at pace,
hungry for more incident.
Next on my list of absolute essentials
is the fifth oldest theme park in the world.
That's right. The fifth!
This is Tivoli!
Opened in 1843, 4.4 million people flock to Tivoli Gardens each year.
Heavy on the senses. A lot of business happening here.
It's like being in a kaleidoscope.
Tivoli inspired Walt Disney's vision of Disneyland,
as well as being home to the world's third oldest roller-coaster,
a fact I find unbearably exciting.
Are you up for that? No!
Come on. I don't like it. Are you sure?
It's a ridiculous thing to be doing with your life,
men of our age. You might even have fun.
That's not going to happen. You might.
What, outside of a bookshop? No.
The Rutschebanen is the park's most popular ride.
Because there's nothing that makes you feel more alive than being
strapped to a 102-year-old falling object.
Bad is happening to us.
Oh!
A friend of mine got touched up on a ghost train once.
It sort of put me off theme parks for a while.
Oh, this bit I don't need.
Oh, wow!
Oh, no. Oh, God.
Oh, no!
Ohhhhh!
RICHARD SCREAMS
NOEL LAUGHS
Good grief!
My body's telling me...
NOEL LAUGHS
Oh, this is... This is horrendous.
It's sort of better than I thought it was going to be.
It's terrible.
NOEL CONTINUES LAUGHING
Oh, good night!
Oh...
That's quite good.
Again. Good grief!
Again!
Why? What is it?
Did someone specifically ask for their stomach to feel pre-vomit.
Any place where a number of people are screaming,
is somewhere I try and avoid.
One more? No!
Come on, Inspector Gadget, you enjoyed that. No, I'm leaving.
Quease levels at DEFCON, we decide to switch gears.
Galoppen has been played by Copenhageners for almost 50 years!
Do you want to go on Galoppen? I do like Galoppen.
Are you ready? Here we go.
Ready, set, go. I'm always ready for Galoppen.
This is more our speed for gentlemen of our age.
Galoppen. Come on, then.
Let's get Galoppen!
There we go.
I could spend all day at the Galoppen table.
Here we go. That's right.
Are you in the lead?
Number seven wins.
Oh! That, my friends, is Galoppen.
HE LAUGHS
What a game of Galoppen.
Your prize. Thank you.
You get that token to keep.
To put on your Galoppen trophy board.
That's some of the best Galoppen I've ever seen.
I'm so pumped with Galoppen.
You were Galoppen like it was going out of style.
Call me Dr Galoppen. That's the highlight of the entire trip.
'Basking in the kind of high only Galoppen can provide,
'day one in Copenhagen draws to its triumphant close.
'Coming up...
'We get massively Danish...'
Mmm.
'..we test our olfactory aptitude...'
I always feel smell comes across very well on television.
'..and see a hidden side of Copenhagen.'
Funk the police.
We're halfway through our guide to extract the most
from Copenhagen in just 48 hours.
We've already delved through the city's underbelly...
Are these just communal showers?
..meandered towards the mermaid...
Isn't that beautiful?
..and triumphed at Tivoli.
I'm so pumped!
Day two finds our vowels aching for the brief appeasement of breakfast,
and because sitting down is for stiffs,
we need to cop our chow on the move.
Fortunately, the Danish have a solution so good
they named it after themselves.
You could build a sort of pastry man out of all of this, couldn't you?
Those are the eyes, mouth...
Have him as your wife.
That could be the nose.
I'm very, very excited about what's happening here.
Hundreds and thousands. Yes, like a sort of space bagel.
St Peders, the oldest bakery in Copenhagen,
has been serving up their popular pastries since the 17th century,
which is ages ago.
With 4,000 cinnamon rolls shifted on a Wednesday alone,
we feel honoured to participate in the mass consumption of baked goods.
Oh, crumbs.
I am so happy about this.
Mmm!
I'm loving it. I need a shot of insulin.
This is my favourite breakfast. This is all I would eat. Sweets?
Yeah! I mean...
What are you, eight?
As the glucose snakes through our veins... I'm absolutely buzzing.
..we continue our desperate digestion of Danish culture.
With our last 24 hours evaporating like tears in hot wind,
we plan to cross the city
in the most time-efficient and green way possible.
Anyone can use the bikes.
You just need to register online or on the bike's tablet.
Well, look, I've set up a log-in
which I'm very graciously going to allow you to use.
Oh, no. I know, it's the typing in. Oh, no.
It's absolutely exhausting.
Oh, hang on! Hey, now... Click!
Whoa! These are heavy. They are really heavy.
They've got power assist because it's so hilly, Denmark.
I can feel the power assist. Will it assist me in other areas of my life?
A hi-tech wheel across town
takes us towards a monumental depot of Danish drinking.
This looks like a goblin lives in here.
There's no-one in there. It's this door. Oh, right.
So, what's happening? We're going to the Carlsberg Museum. Why?
I've told you why.
It's the "Carlsberg Ex-BEER-ience".
On the strength of that pun, I've booked it.
Also, Carlsberg, Denmark - let's go in.
The Carlsberg Brewery Museum is housed in the original 1847 brewery
and boasts the world's largest unopened bottle collection,
as well as gastronomic beer tasting.
And, because we so desperately want the beer-tasting
to go as well as poss,
we decide to get our olfactory game tight at the smelling station.
Toast?
Yeah, that's good. That smells like you're having a stroke.
Malt.
I don't like that one. I don't know...
That's too strong. It's like being slapped by a tiny scented fist.
I always feel smell comes across very well on television.
Prunes. I'm not sure about prunes. I'm not sure about prunes.
That smells like old money.
Oh, when it smells slightly metal-ly.
You know when you're a child and you suck a penny. I didn't.
You didn't ever do that? I was advised against doing that...
by my legal advisor.
Newly knighted nasal ninjas, we move on to the tasting,
trembling with anticipation, but, dramatically, Anders ups the ante.
I'm going to put you to the test,
see if you can identify some aromas in these beers. Are you up for it?
Wow! I didn't realise it was going to get so competitive so soon.
Did you commit those 20 aromas to memory?
I knew some of them anyway. Like banana. I had smelt banana before.
Is that cheating? Yeah.
And so it begins.
There you go. You need a good head on the beer. You know why?
I do not know why. Because the head releases the aromas. Banana!
Does it? See, he's too fast.
There's some very young beer testers coming through.
We do have activities for children all around.
Do they get BLEEP-faced? They do not get BLEEP-faced.
Not on my watch at least. It'd be fun though, right? No!
Have a sip.
I'm finding it hard to think of a word other than beer.
For what it tastes like. It tastes like beer.
As the rapport between Anders and I builds, so does my confidence,
and I feel ready to employ my newly acquired expertise.
It's very similar to the first one.
I'm getting banana, again.
If this last one smells like banana,
I'll know the whole thing is a rip-off.
There's lemon in that, right? Let's open banana number three. Banana..!
Yes, I am not sure about this.
A bit un-banana-y for me.
I'd happily drink all of these. By this stage, I am in pieces.
This is the most alcohol I've ever drunk. Well, Anders, thanks for this.
My judgement is impaired, but we have to leave you.
We're on a very limited timescale. No problem at all. Thank you.
Thank you. It was a real pleasure. Thanks a lot. Cheers. Bye.
There's some very drunk minors here.
As Noel tries to shepherd his complimentary alcohol
past some belligerent under-fives, we suddenly yearn for simpler times,
and search for a place where we could rebuild society from scratch.
Established in 1971,
the self-governed hippie haven of Christiana
is a city within the city of Copenhagen.
Famous for its open selling of reefer,
despite it being illegal,
its 800 residents have chosen to live outside traditional society,
like the people of Bedford.
But even though it's called Freetown,
the Man still seems to be laying down a whole roll of rules.
So, these are the rules? Yes. Have fun.
Of course you can relax and behave just as anywhere else.
Making it a rule seems somewhat counterintuitive, but go on.
Our guide, Kirstin, a Christiana veteran,
has been pretending to have fun here for 35 years.
Don't run, it causes panic.
It's because police come here quite often.
They used to come in to surprise the dealers in the street.
So of course they get nervous if someone is running
because they think police are coming.
That's why Mo Farah can't come here.
Banksy's been here. And no photos.
Banksy's quite a short man. He's getting smaller, which is why...
Rules don't apply to mavericks,
so we set off to see some of Christiana's crazy cribs.
Is this a house that someone's built themselves? Yes, yes.
Many self-build houses. Around 60 of them.
Another good thing about Christiana is there's no cars. No cars.
It's a good way to keep Jeremy Clarkson out of a community. Yes.
There's a lot of people jogging. Pardon? A lot of people jogging.
Oh, yeah, people from town, they use it.
Slightly goes against the no-running rule.
The dream of the '90s is alive in Christiana.
I'm not convinced. No?
If you were dropped here now, it's quite a strange place because
Copenhagen itself is quite neat and tidy and clean and efficient.
Very efficient. Rigid, maybe. Tight, even. Uptight.
This is the opposite to that and this is right in the centre of it.
It's a bit too Lucy Goosey.
Yeah. For me.
I imagine it is. I like being uptight. Come on.
As our time in the Danish capital draws to a close,
we cannot leave without seeing one of Copenhagen's mightiest slabs.
The Rundetaarn, AKA the Round Tower,
houses Europe's oldest working observatory,
and was built with a ramp that spirals all the way to the top
so the king could ride his horse to the summit.
We're powering up this. I know!
It's quite good.
The floor's getting uneven now.
Give them a break.
This must have been a nightmare to produce.
Back in 1642.
They didn't have to make the floor out of Jenga pieces, did they?
Entry to the Rundetaarn is ?2.50 and ups the total amount
of coin we've dropped this weekend to ?456.49.
How have you found Copenhagen?
I've really enjoyed the open sandwiches.
Yes, it's a city without the top deck of bread.
What about Mike the bike?
I didn't enjoy that so much. Will you stay in touch with Mike the Bike?
I saw him press you for an e-mail at the end.
I did give him a false e-mail. Yes. Yeah.
The thing I've enjoyed most was galloping.
I'm getting one put in my house and I'll invite you round.
I am going to move in.
We'll always have galloping. We'll always have galloping.
I know.
Let's get the funk out of here. Let's go.
Next week, 48 hours in Moscow, with Greg Davies.
I like it. It's nice. I like it here.