Now, just like me, Mematt chose to stay in Nørrebro, which is considered one of the cooler parts of the city (also the most Muslim and one of the edgiest, might it be added.) Just like me, Mematt chose to stay specifically at the Sleep In Heaven warehouse/hotel... and he enjoyed it! Just like me, Mematt realized that the true joys of Copenhagen lay not in the museums but on the streets, in the sunny parks, amidst the friendly (and not so friendly) people. Copenhagen might lack the iconic sites of Paris or the history of Berlin, but it makes it all up with its beautiful parks and canals, and the beautiful sublimity of its populace. And if you want to experience the real Copenhagen -- young, working class, multicultural -- then Nørrebro is the place to be. It is interesting in its own right, and is also so close to the city area, with all of its attractions.

As Mematt said: "To get in with the Danish college-age crowd, a trip to Nørrebro is required. Hit up the bars and clubs around this area and have a good time with the friendly and usually very good-looking crowd." As it was, when I made my first visit to Denmark in 2003, I already had a friend living in Nørrebro -- and by chance her boyfriend's house was in the same street as Sleep In Heaven, where I had booked to stay. Like Copenhagen itself, Sleep In Heaven gets mixed reviews from travellers -- people either love it or hate it. From my experience there -- let's just say you have to enjoy the company of other humanoids, in order to survive staying there! When I arrived on an incredibly sunny Saturday morning in August 2003, I was already suffering mild symptoms of home sickness and culture shock. My heart further sank when, upon being given my blanket and locker key by the friendly blonde girl at the reception desk, I beheld my room... or perhaps warehouse space would be a better way of putting it!

Have you ever stayed in a room which has up to 90 beds, stacked as far as the eye can see in formations of three-storey bunks, in a space which was formerly used as a factory? That is the Sleep In Heaven experience, and it seems to be a uniquely European style of accommodation (I once stayed at a similar battery hen farm hostel in Amsterdam in the mid 1990s, and that particular establishment was full of German punks.) Anyway, there weren't any punks on the bunks at Sleep In Heaven as far as I could see, but the layout and decor were punkily nasty nonetheless: there was a pokey bathroom at the end with about five showers and toilets and a serious queue, and a seemingly neverending cachophany of slamming lockers, concrete echoes, conversations in at least a dozen European languages. As I walked dazed to my bunk, I passed a completely naked Italian guy toweling off after his shower. I thought to myself: How am I going to survive this? This is squalid! This is going to be a nightmare. Why did I bother coming here!

As it turned out though, Sleep In Heaven was one of the funnest (and funniest) places I have ever stayed. Later that afternoon I met up with my Danish friend Louise, who used to live at my pad in Tokyo, and I began to become enchanted by Copengagen. It didn't take much. I met Louise over at Nyhaven and we walked around the central part of the city with a Japanese couple Louise had worked with, me constantly being surprised and entranced by the Andersenesque streetscenes which presented themselves to me, almost at every turn. It was like walking through a fairytale, albeit with a techno backbeat. We later went out to this eccentric bar with wierd animal head trophies stuck to the walls, and then attended a lively street party where a cute Danish girl (accidentally) spilt beer on my shirt. I didn't mind at all -- by this time I was seriously getting into the Copenhagen experience. Getting beer spilt on me by that girl was a kind of christening -- an indoctrination into the Danish Nation! Walking back to Sleep In Heaven, my homesickness and culture shock banished to where it belonged, we passed an impressive looking and impressively rustic church, where Louise said they did a good sermon. And while I was dreading my first night in the barracks like environment of Sleep In Heaven, it actually went pretty well. Thanks to a pair of handy Japanese earplugs, I slept smoothly all through the night -- a real Sleep In Heaven! When I awoke, the barracks was abuzz with peoples clearing their throats, slamming locker doors shut, talking in a dozen languages, lining up for the showers. I struck up a conversation with a Hungarian guy in the battery hen bunk opposite me. Now, there is nothing so cool as lying in bed still half asleep in the early morning, having a conversation with a complete stranger, when you are on the other side of the world on vacation. The Hungarian guy seemed nice enough but before the conversation had advanced, some creep (nationality UNKNOWN) came over and told us to "shut the fuck up". There must have been about 50 people talking and slamming doors and ruffling plastic bags and zipping/unzipping zippers at that time, but the creep claimed that we were the ones keeping him awake. Whatever. There are creeps all over the world, and when you stay in a room with up to 90 beds, you are bound to bump into one. Let it pass...

So anyway, it was a great start to the day, and it only got better and better. That morning after breakfast, I went for a walk nowhere in particular through the surrounding streets of Nørrebro. Just across the road from Sleep In Heaven there is a graveyard called something like Assistens Kirkegård, which looked like it would be fit for a ramble in. I entered, took a photo of a butterfly posing on an exquisite leaf. Turning a green corner, I caught sight of a headstone which proclaimed: Hans Christian Andersen. Yes, the guru was buried here. Which might explain all the good vibes I felt at Sleep In Heaven. And it might explain all the good vibes I felt staying in Nørrebro. I encountered nothing but kindness at that place. Even if there could be an Al Qaeda cell living there (I wouldn't be surprised.) Nørrebro is edgy and Nørrebro is Muslim, but Nørrebro is cool. This is the new Europe.

Assistens Kirkegård:
The peaceful, leafy cemetery in the heart of Nørrebro is the final resting place of numerous great Danes, including Søren Kierkegaard, the aforementioned Hans Christian Andersen, and physicist Niels Bohr (like Andersen, a quirky fairytale visionary.) In the summer, the cemetery takes on a cheerful, city-park air as picnicking families, young couples, and sunbathers relax on the sloping lawns.

The shooting park (Skydebanehaven): Vesterbro.
This park is very special. Now it is located in the heart of Vesterbro, but in the old days it was situated in the countryside. Here the shooting mad men used to go to shoot for fun. There is a big wall that sheltered bypassers on the street from the bullets, the gate is huge and impressive. The park is located at Skydebanegade (meaning the street of the shooting area), just of Istedgade. It is on your right hand if you walk out of the center and in fact it is just behind the Bymuseum (Copenhagen City Museum).

Some of the other places you can dine at include:

Den Iranske Forening: Blågårdsgade 4.
According to one Swedish visitor, this Iranian restaurant is a "secret jewel" offering cheap and tasty food. Few non-Persians are to be seen here and the menu is only in Danish or Farsi, so go with someone who knows one of those languages!

Keke's Kokken Takeaway: Rantzausgade 10.
The Guardian newspaper from Britain reports: "If you've the tenacity to get off the tourist trail you can even eat and drink, I wouldn't say cheaply, but at London prices. Luckily, I was staying on the edge of lively, grungy Nörrebro. It's a student/creative enclave with a large immigrant population and, consequently, it's relatively cheap. Keke's Kokken takeaway (Rantzausgade 10) - excellent meatballs, brilliant zingy fresh salads, eat your fill for about £6 - was a lifesaver. Meanwhile, the beers at nearby indie-arty bar, Tjili Pop, start at around £3.
"Even in town, seek and ye shall find a pint for under £4. The hunt led me to Copenhagen's student union bar, which is fine as long as you don't mind that night's band endlessly sound-checking in the background. Meanwhile, at the friendly, no frills Moose bar, during happy hour, you can get two pints for less than a fiver. Obviously, it was packed.
"The point is, no matter where you are, no matter how expensive your destination, there are always coping strategies. There are always cheaper bolt-holes to get drunk in; there is always good free cultural stuff to do. If you know where to find it, that is..."

Sheik Shawarma: Nørrebrogade.
This is one of the places to go in Nørrebro, according to my friend Louise. Perhaps I did actually go there, I am not sure, but I am sure I can imagine how delicious the food is there. This is taken from the Danish Copenhagen guide Klummen, for all those Danish speakers and readers out there:

According to the LA Times: "From the Danish Parliament to the immigrant neighborhoods in Norrebro, this city of nut bread and sea winds echoes with suspicion. Liberal freedom-of-speech laws are being challenged by Hizb ut-Tahrir, an extremist Islamic organization recruiting Muslims to battle coalition forces in Iraq that include 530 Danish troops. In a society that prides itself on racial parity, voters have elevated the xenophobic Danish People's Party from the fringes to the country's third most powerful political bloc.

"I believe integrating a large number of Muslims can't be done. It's an illusion," said Martin Henriksen, a 25-year-old legislator for the People's Party. "They don't have the desire to blend in with other people. We've been a Christian country for 1,000 years and we are the oldest monarchy in the world. I want to get married and have a lot of kids who can walk around in a society not influenced by Muslims."

Across town in a neighborhood of fast-food shawarma stands and veiled women, Fadi Abdul Latif, the spokesman for Hizb ut-Tahrir in Denmark, accused conservatives of changing the meaning of integration. Whereas it once meant attending Danish schools and speaking the national language, he charged, now it forces Muslims into accepting European values on issues including sexuality and religion.

"This is the Europe of the Middle Ages," said Abdul Latif, a Palestinian born in a Lebanese refugee camp who moved here years ago. "When others want to force their values on Muslims, we must reject this. We neither want to assimilate nor isolate. We want to keep our identity and carry our message of Islam to others. But Europe is using the climate of war and terrorism to force assimilation."

Hizb ut-Tahrir seeks to establish an Islamic caliphate and expel Western influences from Muslim nations. Outlawed in Sweden and Germany, the group faces a possible ban in Britain after the London transit bombings in July. In 2002, Abdul Latif was charged with distributing hate literature that revered suicide bombers as martyrs and quoted a verse from the Koran: "And kill them from wherever you find them, and turn them out from where they have turned you out." He received a 60-day suspended sentence.

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