This past summer, I recall reading about Julie Williams, an IT consultant from Birkdale on Merseyside. She had decided to make a ball pit in her spare room, rather than rent it. Why? For fun. ‘You can never be sad in a ball pit.’
Moments like this are important, because they remind you of your free will. Other personal milestones will do this for you, by causing you to reflect on your life and what you want from it.
Turning 30 is one. It’s an absurdly young, and pretty much nondescript birthday in the 21st century, when the average life span – at least for Brits – is over 80.
I’ve truly never clung to traditional milestones (house/baby/marriage/divorce), and count climbing out of credit card debt as the maturest moment in my adult life to date.
But still, the flood of ‘30 birthdays’ that come for us all – right before the hen dos – gave me pause to reflect. Was I happy? Had I challenged myself enough? Was I excited about the next decade?
Who am I?
Not to get too Lewis Carroll about it, but this last one was the catalyst for me in late 2023. In a way I felt that I didn’t know myself anymore, or at least not all the versions – just the city-shaped, university-fied version. And she was restless.
Meanwhile, semi remote work in London had become my new normal. The days of spilling out to the pub every week with colleagues had gone. I had a lovely team in my PR job, but rotating schedules meant it took too long get past the pleasantries.
People generally – and I include myself in this – have become more selfish with their time. I don’t think this is a bad thing. Hell, if you’re going to replace me with AI, at least give me another 30 minutes in bed / to read to my kids / paint / write / support a charity / stare into the abyss.
Having one foot in, one foot out, however, began to wear on me amidst the rising cost of living in London. You start to weigh up what the value is. Do I really want my days to be defined by the price of flat whites and whether or not a Soho House membership is cost effective?
Not to bash these things, because I take comfort from water cooler culture as much as everyone else – it’s part of the fun.
But when I found myself googling ‘Martin Lewis’ wife’, something had to give.
So in early 2025, just after turning 31, I decided to give this digital nomad lark a go, beginning with three months in South East Asia. As a freelancer, I’d work less, but live more – mostly with strangers.
Since then, I’ve worked from 12 countries, mostly – but not always – travelling alone, with just one bag and a laptop. I’ve managed to see some more of the UK too, including Brighton and Bude, and I even squeezed in some volunteering in Scotland during December, supporting an immersive language school, and working on my days off.
They say when you travel alone your brain works harder. Well I’m finding myself more motivated and excited about things I’m working on – both personally and professionally – than I have been for a long time.
My confidence has improved; back pain is gone; I’ve started a side hustle and a supper club, created this blog, and made a website for my pet sitting service.
It’s not been without challenge – I want to be transparent about that. I was surprised at how hard I found the adjustment at times. But as I approach the one year mile stone, I have no regrets at all about my ‘mini retirement’ – and plan to continue the journey.
For anyone interested, I’m attempting to document my experiences and reflections as authentically as possible on this blog.
Two flights and 15 hours later, I arrived freshly spray-tanned at Suvarnabhumi airport, Bangkok at 10am.
After having successfully withdrawn baht, updated my family, filled my water bottle and downloaded my e-sim, I had a full two to three days to explore the city before moving North to Chiang Mai.
I was staying in Asoke, right in the centre of the bustling mecca of Bangkok. It’s seriously busy – think wide streets laden with traffic – but a good location from which to see the main sights.
I got lost a few times, but for once there was no tube to catch, no meeting or engagement to get to. Nor was I a backpacker on a shoestring budget or timeline. Why am I rushing to my hotel? I thought with a thrill. I have time to figure it out.
As I traipsed through the streets with my backpack, the heat started to wear a little. I was grateful that I’d limited myself to hand luggage only, packing just a few clothes and my refurbished MacBook Air – about the tiniest laptop ever made.
When I arrived at the lovely Samala hotel – which was later damaged in an earthquake – I cooled off with a little visit to the pool, a Singha (Thai Beer), and after a short nap, contemplated what to do next.
First up – food of course. The benefit of being in the business district of Bangkok is that you’re never far from a decent market. I’d spotted Ruam Sab market on my way to the hotel, so journeyed back with my pockets jangling.
The key tip, I’d heard, is to get here before lunchtime to avoid the workies. I was committed to avoiding meat as much as possible abroad, so looked for stands featuring the yellow Je flag.
Whilst I was seriously tempted by the deep fried bananas, I eventually settled for some Morning Glory (water spinach) with rice, and some kind of broth, lathered with a mix of chillies, soy and fish sauce, which is typical all over Thailand.
Stomach full, I was ready to get out and explore. Nothing beats a tour for getting your bearings and I’d already found a business online called Hidden Bangkok Tours led by a local chap born in the area.
He runs boat trips in Thonburi, the quieter, more traditional part of Bangkok on the western side of the Chao Phraya River – the “city behind the Pagoda”, he said in one YouTube video. This is just one of the lovely takeaways from social media – it gives people the power to become entrepreneurs, and means you can find unusual activities you might not typically consider.
Desperate to see some lizards, off I popped to Thonburi. As we journeyed through the khlong (canal) in our brightly coloured tail boat – right in the shadow of the giant golden Buddha, in fact – we had what I felt to be a more authentic insight into the city.
Before I arrived in Bangkok, all I could picture in my head was roads, wires, and hotels – which is accurate – but I was surprised to learn that it’s also lined with waterways. In fact, it’s at huge risk of climate change due to rising sea levels from the low-lying Chao Phraya delta.
Until the late 19th century, the rivers served as the primary means of transportation for people and goods, earning it the nickname of “the Venice of the East”.
Our guide explained how the old wooden houses lining the canal were what most local Thais lived in, with many families still working directly on the river (although some were now Airbnbs). We met a couple of them, including a lady who’d sold fish on the river her whole life and, if I remember correctly, had funded her children’s university education with her earnings. Legend!
Being over a century old, many of the properties – which were built on stilts – were beginning to fall into the river. Rebuilding requires official permission, which makes it difficult for residents to maintain them. I didn’t get to the bottom of why such permission was difficult to secure, sadly.
We stopped for coffee at an adorable, centuries old wooden house called Baan Silapin, the “Artists’ Village”. I suspected this was where the young Thai’s hung out, and I spotted a couple on a date feeding catfish by the water – as you do.
Others – a mix of locals and tourists – were painting in the cafes, observing the local art, picking up trinkets, and generally slowing down. It wasn’t overcrowded, and felt a bit hipster – like a slower, hotter, Hackney Wick. Without the beanies.
After the intensity of Asoke, this was a refreshing change of pace – a chance to see a side of Bangkok that often gets missed. I would recommend a visit here if you have time and need to unwind from the city.
No need to get a tour, but it certainly adds context and colour. Importantly, I learned how to say Bangkok in Thai – possibly the longest word ever said – check it out:
After my cultural baptism, what else, but more food? Bloggers advised I try Pad Krapao or Khao Soi, a noodle soup in a curry broth, topped with crispy fried noodles. I was keen to work out if I could find vegetarian versions, so later caught the bus down to the thriving Vadhana District.
Having been kindly directed to the right stop by a group of local ladies who’d teamed up to ensure I didn’t get lost, I found – by chance – a little place called Zong Peep, serving tofu Khao Soi. I promptly tucked into a huge bowl and a coke for the price of about £3. It was a delicious mix of salt and spice.
Belly full once again, I was pretty shattered and ready to hit the sheets. Do you know the way to Samala? I asked a security guard at a nearby hotel. My mate will take you, he said (in Thai), shouting over to a guy on a moped.
Better not add this to my stories, I thought, knowing my Mum was watching. But no time to dwell. I pulled the helmet on and off we went, slithering down Sukhumvit in a game of real-life Mario Kart.
Back at the hotel I dived under the covers and set my alarm for an early start. I hadn’t been killed or kidnapped, so all in all, a great first day.
Why the Spanish capital is perfect for a spring time soiree.
Sept 2025
This will sound conceited, but as a child, I found myself slightly bored by Spain.
I was born in the 90s, which means I’m very much a product of parents seduced by programmes like A Place in the Sun. TV at the time was obsessed with our hot neighbour, and – like a lot of people – Mum and Dad bought into the dream of becoming expats by investing in a small villa on the Costa Brava.
In reality, this meant we spent a few weeks a year visiting what was essentially a building site near Alicante. And while it was obviously a huge privilege – and I do have really fond memories of those times with my family – the trips were hardly cultural experiences. You’re not exactly getting under the skin of Spain in those expat villages, especially as every second person is English.
Fast forward a few years and I chose to study Spanish at A-level. Since then I’ve travelled a little more widely across the country and it turns out there’s a lot to love. Whilst Seville and Barcelona rank highly in my list of Spanish city breaks, in this guide, I’m making the case for its often-overlooked rival: Madrid.
My memories of Madrid as a child mostly involve avoiding the excruciating mid-summer heat. But revisiting in September last year for my friend’s hen do made realise just how great a spot it is for a shoulder-month visit.
So as April approaches, here’s my guide on how to spend the perfect short spring break in the Spanish capital.
Day 1: Tapas and tortillas with a hint of history
First of all, where should you stay? Well, consider that Madrid is Spain’s biggest city, and comes in at double the size of Barcelona. It’s a busy, urban spot, but if you want a neighbourhood feel, I can advocate for an area called Lavapiés.
This is one of the city’s most characterful neighbourhoods; full of street art, independent cafés and, importantly, pockets of shade. I felt relatively safe there, although I would advise being vigilant at night (I usually check reddit for information about local safety!).
Start your trip early by grabbing coffee and pastries from one of the local favourites such as Nomade Café or Hola Coffee, and enjoy the gorgeous murals.
Then, from Lavapiés, take a 20–25 minute walk (or a short bus ride) into the historic centre.
Head towards the Royal Palace of Madrid, passing through Plaza de Oriente on the way. This area feels like the “classic” Madrid you see in photos, and is nice for a little walk and photo snapping before the heat of the day sets in; I didn’t go inside the museum, but you can do so if you want (if you later join a walking tour, they’ll likely cover the history).
For lunch, escape the heat and go in search of tortillas. Not the Mexican flatbread version, but the Spanish kind: thick, eggy, and often slightly gooey in the middle. I liked La Martinuca for its different variations (best enjoyed sitting inside), or Pez Tortilla on Calle de Espoz y Mina for somewhere more chaotic and buzzy; lots of locals crowded around standing tables.
In the afternoon, ease into some culture at Museo Reina Sofía. If you time it right (after 4pm), entry is free, so head over at 3 to join the queue (perhaps with a beer in hand); this is an easy way to add something “cultural” without overcommitting your day.
As evening sets in, lean into Madrid’s slightly chaotic energy by stopping for sangria and tapas at El Tigre or La Torre del Oro. These are traditional pubs known for generous – and borderline excessive – free food with drinks. You’ll be able to stuff your face and get a bit drunk as the heat cools.
Teeter back towards Lavapiés, and reload on those calories with some more local snacks. If you’re alone or in a couple, grab a table at Bar Melos and try the croquetas.
Day 2: All the art & a gilda girl tea
Start your second day in the heart of historic Madrid. Book yourself a walking tour from Plaza Mayor, and build in thirty minutes to enjoy the traditional square earlier in the day before it gets too crowded.
From here, take a 5-minute walk to the covered food market, Mercado de San Miguel. While this is not the cheapest spot in the city, it’s perfect for a grazing-style lunch; think gildas, croquetas, mini burgers, and a glass of something cold. My friend and I had great fun perusing the different stalls and oggling the giant fish.
In the afternoon, head to either Museo del Prado or Reina Sofía, whichever you missed yesterday. They’re about a 20-minute walk from Plaza Mayor, or a quick metro ride if it’s hot.
Trying to do both in one day is ambitious and, honestly, unnecessary. I personally loved the Museo del Prado for its classical and religious works, from Velázquez to Goya; they really give you a sense of Spain’s artistic heritage. Reina Sofía, on the other hand, was a joy because of its surrealist highlights; Dali, Miró, and Picasso really get the mind going!
Afterwards, what else – but more booze and food! Near the museum, there’s a cute side street with food stalls, including a place called La Consentida, where I enjoyed a happy hour washing an eclectic mix of gildas down with some rosé. This is a wonderful classic tapa, composed of a pickled Guindilla pepper, a salty anchovy fillet, and a green Manzanilla olive on a stick.
On the way back, detour to La Pizzateca for a pizza slice; once in Lavapiés, finish with ice cream from Gelato Artesanal.
Practical tips: Museums are free after 4pm (Reina Sofía) and 6pm (Prado Wed-Sat), so plan accordingly; weekdays are less crowded than weekends.
Day 3: Pastries and park walks
By day three, you might feel a little full and want to slow down, especially if you have a flight to catch.
Begin, again, with coffee in Lavapiés. I advocate for pastries from Acid Café, but there’s a lot of cute places to sit down, too. If you want to stay in the area, I’d recommend reading this article for a full list of things to do.
Eventually, make your way towards El Retiro Park near the Ibiza neighbourhood. Depending on where you’re starting, it’s roughly a 20–30 minute walk from the centre and worth doing on foot if you can.
Ibiza is a busy spot, but good for more local eateries. I stumbled upon Parador del Jamón, known for traditional sandwiches (less useful if you’re vegetarian, but very “Madrid”), and there are plenty of other casual spots around.
Retiro is where Madrid softens; tree-lined paths, rowboats, people reading in the shade – it’s less about sightseeing and more about just being there. Bring snacks, something to drink, and take your time. I was alone for this part of my trip, so put a podcast in, but it’s also lovely for a read in the sunshine. It’s a nice place to visit at golden hour.
Following your park walk, settle down somewhere nearby for more tapas and Sangria. If you’re back in Lavapies, grab a table outside La Inquilina for wine and some delicious gildas.
If you’re working remotely…
If you’re mixing travel with work (like I am), Madrid makes it easy. I liked La Bicicleta Café and Federal Café as relaxed spots to spend a few hours; good coffee, good atmosphere, and no pressure to rush. Be aware though, that lots of cafes in Lavapiés do not allow laptops.
Overall – Madrid is a feast for the mind and stomach
Madrid can even feel a little overwhelming due to its pace and scale, especially compared to smaller Spanish cities. But don’t write it off for a mini break. Give it a couple of days – wander a bit, eat well, sit in the sun – and it starts to click. And once it does, it’s very easy to see why people keep coming back.
If you’re looking for more Spring time city break ideas, why not read my piece about Copenhagen.
It’s no secret that Thailand is popular with digital nomads. Interest in the Destination Thailand Visa (DTV) underscores this appeal – offering a five-year, multiple-entry visa, it surpassed 35,000 applicants when it launched last year (2025). Aimed at remote workers and location-independent professionals, the DTV offers an affordable and flexible long-term stay, making it a central pillar of Thailand’s strategy to boost tourism and strengthen its economy.
With great prices, food, weather, and landscape, Thailand does appear to have it all. But having worked from several international “nomad” hotspots in the last year, I have found myself becoming less interested in what I can get out of the places I visit, and more concerned with the impact I’m having there.
Definitions of digital nomads have changed, after all. The 2010 “stereotype” was that of a “joyful millennial working from a laptop on a beach” (Hart, 2015; Spinks, 2015). A handful of people were doing it, many of whom were bloggers, making it pretty harmless.
Now, an era of flexible working, long-term visas, and steep rents in places like Sydney and London mean people are choosing to work remotely abroad for the long haul, (“slowmadism”, as this woman calls it).
With access to much higher wages, there are obvious economic benefits. But academics worry there could be broader ramifications for destinations in the Global South already experiencing forms of transnational gentrification.
Chiang Mai, a city in the northern mountains of Thailand, has attracted thousands of digital nomads in recent years. The effects of this migration are already being felt, with this case study suggesting the long-term nomad presence is reshaping neighbourhoods, increasing demand for foreign-facing businesses, and driving up rents – factors which affect both visitors and locals.
I observed some of this myself when I visited in February 2025. There’s still a ton of local food spots, of course, but it seemed that many of the cafés, services, juice bars, and co-working spaces had been created for foreigners (or those with laptops). Fon, a restaurant owner, confirmed that even local food stops have “increased their prices by 5–10 Baht” since the 2020 pandemic. Whilst the minimum wage has increased slightly too, it is unclear whether it’s enough, or what the future repercussions could be over time.
What about integration? Of the nomads I met in Chiang Mai, some worked in tourism or as teachers, and others were learning Thai. Billy, an American who moved to Chiang Mai two years ago, loves his life here as a teacher. He said that despite the number of expats from Myanmar, China, and Western countries, local people still strongly embrace their mai pen rai – a “no worries” attitude – and hold tightly to their Lanna cultural identity. On the trips he’s been on, there’s just as many Thai locals as there are nomads and expats, he says.
Whilst that is reassuring, having spoken to a lot of nomads working from businesses based outside Thailand, most treated the city as a satellite office, and were there to enjoy the comfort and low costs rather than integrate into the fabric of the place. I can’t help but wonder how sustainable that is – especially given that most nomads leave in the early part of each year during “burning season” – which must affect rental competition, business, and the vibe.
Part of Chiang Mai’s appeal is that it feels more “authentic,” or at least less mediated by mass tourism, than the southern islands. Fon is from Prachinburi, and moved here five years ago. “People from here have a strong sense of culture, pride, and local traditions,” she said. This is in part due to the highly esteemed university and active student culture.
As more people move here to work, however – which is likely, in the wake of this visa – I suspect local businesses and authorities will keep shaping things to meet foreign interests, expectations and spending habits.
After all, nomads are not tourists in the traditional sense. They need a more fixed base, comfort, friends, places to live, reliable internet access, and familiar home comforts. I went on a day trip with a group of people from a newly launched co-living residence, for example – something that’s becoming more common, and speaks to the desire for permanence.
Another challenge that comes with growing numbers of long-term visitors, is waste management. Chiang Mai already feels stretched in terms of infrastructure, and more people inevitably means more rubbish. Bali, for example, is grappling with a well-documented waste crisis, and while I wasn’t able to investigate in depth here, this blog provides some interesting context about recycling and waste handling in Thailand.
I tried hard to minimise my footprint by carrying a Grayl water filter bottle and a foldable dog bowl for takeaway food, but the broader issue is harder to tackle. How the city will cope with more residents and their impact on waste, water, and energy systems remains to be seen. “Waste and water management have not kept up with growth,” Fon told me.
In terms of capacity – like I said, it already feels quite busy, and judging by comments on Reddit forums from long-term nomads, that seems to be the case. I found myself standing at traffic lights for around ten minutes in Nimman, trying to cross the road, for instance.
All the Grab drivers wore masks to protect themselves from the terrible air quality, which will surely worsen as traffic increases. Electricity wires hung about precariously, which had me wondering how much additional strain the desire for faster internet was putting on infrastructure.
According to Fon, my observations were valid. “The cost of utilities has risen dramatically,” she said. “The condition of the roads is abysmal, and there’s no real public transportation despite the demand. There are more vehicles on the roads each year as a result.”
A lot Chiang Mai is undeniably charming, and you can tell why people like it here. The Old Town is beautiful, a square of ancient walls, temples, lanterns, and slow, warm evenings. I really enjoyed my first few days staying just south of it, near Wua Lai Walking Street Market, a quieter part of town that still felt full of character. There’s some beautiful hikes nearby, and lots of stunning wats to explore – I even spent one day speaking to monks when I visited (you can read my blog about this here).
Overall though, I seemed to leave Chiang Mai with more questions than answers. It will be interesting to see how it changes over the next decade, and how the Thai government will manage the steady influx of people (or indeed, decline, if that happens). Is another Bali boom and bust on the horizon?
I arrived in Australia at the end of April, when the temperature was in the low 20s. I’d always wanted to visit, but with over seven million square kilometres to choose from, planning a trip to this vast country requires a fair bit of thought.
I only had ten days to spare this time, with a couple reserved for a new freelance project that had come my way. So I kept things simple, splitting my time between Sydney (New South Wales) and Melbourne (Victoria), close to where my friend – who I was visiting – now lives.
Flying into Sydney from the lush jungles of Bali, I wasn’t particularly interested in spending time in the CBD (the city centre, basically). With a bank holiday approaching, my friend suggested we visit the Blue Mountains National Park instead.
This is a dramatic sandstone landscape around 60km outside the city. Imagine a vast basin, ringed by cliffs, with deep valleys and rock formations throughout – a bit like an alien crop circle.
Why is it blue, you ask? If you look closely at the distant trees, you can make out a faint blue haze caused by the eucalyptus leaves releasing oil into the air. It’s a beautiful place, and a fantastic location for hiking. Cue a 90-minute train ride from Sydney’s Central Station, and we found ourselves back in nature once again.
There are a number of towns dotted around the park, including Katoomba (what a name!). This is the main town and administrative centre of the Blue Mountains. It doesn’t feel big, but there are plenty of cafés and restaurants – we even went to the cinema – and most importantly, the national park is easily accessible by public transport.
I must have stayed in around 50 hostels since my first solo trip in 2023, and I’m a huge advocate for them.
YHA has a long heritage, and this one in particular housed a lot of families, which gave it a safe, cosy feel. There’s a large kitchen and movie room, books and games to borrow – and like most good hostels, the staff had encyclopaedic knowledge of the area.
Becca doesn’t “hostel” much, and even she enjoyed it, especially given it cost us around £130 each in total for four nights.
As for the mountains themselves, there’s a reason Tourism NSW uses them so heavily in its imagery. They’re unlike any mountain range I’ve seen before, with plenty of easily accessible walking routes, many of them fairly flat, offering sweeping views in all directions. More challenging hikes are available too, so pack plenty of food. Nothing beats eating your sandwiches perched on a cliff edge!
We spent a couple of days navigating different trails, and on Becca’s recommendation, saved one morning to visit Scenic World. This cable-car attraction takes you down to the forest floor and across the famous Three Sisters rock formation, with views out towards Wentworth Falls.
It’s a fun way to access parts of the landscape you don’t see from the clifftops alone. That said, locals flock here on bank holidays, so my main tip would be to book accommodation and attractions in advance, as everything was fully booked when we tried our luck on the first day.
The good weather held for another day once we returned to Sydney, and after plenty of walking, we spent a glorious evening scoffing chips and watching the sun set behind the Sydney Opera House. I also made time to watch the wild waves rolling in at Bondi Beach.
A day later, the heavens opened. I sought shelter in the State Library of New South Wales, tucked beside the Botanic Gardens (also worth a gander!) and got a solid chunk of work done for the week.
After two months in Asia, this felt like a real change of pace – and having access to a desktop computer was a small luxury I didn’t take for granted. Sydney has some beautiful libraries (check out this blog post by The Rachellist if you happen to be in need of one). If you’re a remote worker like me, I’ll always advocate for libraries, and this one is particularly lovely.
Working while travelling might sound dull to some, but for me, visiting Australia was a reminder of how grateful I am to work remotely. Better still, freelancing means I’m not working every day.
We’re lucky in the UK to have a decent annual leave allowance compared to some countries, but a ten-day trip to Australia would still have eaten up a third of it – and probably delayed my decision to come at all. Knowing I can (hopefully) return made the whole experience feel lighter, calmer, and far less rushed.
Following three months visiting Asia, Bali and Australia in early 2025, I was craving less stimulation and more structure for my next trip from the UK. After eight years as a Londoner, there comes a point where you want to trade a backpack for a trench coat and boots, and with a friends’ wedding in Sweden approaching in May, it made sense for us to visit Copenhagen first.
I’d been curious about the Danish capital for some time. My parents spent their honeymoon there in the 80s and nearly always have Scandi drama on the go. I also recall having nightmares from a made-for-TV version of The Little Mermaid which, true to Hans Christian Andersen’s style, is far darker than Disney would suggest.
Luckily this trauma was corrected during my visit, and I left thinking Copenhagen might be one of my favourite city breaks so far. Maybe that was because, after the sensory sprawl of the far east, it felt so refreshingly calm and considered, with its wide pavements, seamless cycle lanes, and reliable public transport. Like a lot of Scandinavia, everything seems designed – not in a showy way, but in a cool, collected way.
Keep reading for food highlights, what to do, and the best day trips from the city.
What to eat in Copenhagen
Copenhagen is a bit of a foodie dream – which sort of surprised me – so prepare to go with an empty belly and a ready palate. Here’s a suggestion for you to spend your day eating around the city:
First – bakery breakfast
Skip the hotel buffet and head to Rug or Hart Bakery for some beautifully curated baked goods. They’re quite upmarket places with spaces to sit down and enjoy your loot. Bring a friend so you can split a bunch of them between you (or pig out alone!)
Next – Smørrebrød and beers for lunch
Smørrebrød is a classic Danish open sandwich – sort of like oversized tapas. Imagine a base of tangy rye bread, topped with smoked fish and pickled veg. We stopped on Gammel Strand, but you can find them all over the city. They’re delicious but not cheap, so order a selection and split them between you. Wash down with a beer (Carlsberg or Mikkeller). I can also recommend Bird cocktail bar in the city centre for a classier beverage.
Sitting opposite the Inderhavnsbroen bridge, this is another cool food market from whence to snack, but you could also have lunch or dinner here. It is located on the Greenlandic Trade Square where the traders from Greenland, Iceland, the Faroe Islands and Denmark used to arrive after long journeys across the oceans. It’s a lovely spot from which to look over the water. Opening back up in March, it even offers yoga, social dining and other events to enjoy.
Proclaiming itself as the “largest street food market in Northern Europe”, this is another buzzing food market on the waterfront, hosting food stalls from around the world. For Londoners, it has a bit of a Hackney Wick vibe, complete with beautiful street art. Like Broens, it opens again in March and offers regular events that I’m always ogling on Instagram. A perfect way to see the sunset.
What to Do in Copenhagen
Most guides will suggest visiting Copenhagen for four days, which feels reasonable to me, although I stayed longer and felt there was plenty to see.
Here’s fun activities I’d recommend adding to your trip itinerary.
Spend some time walking about the iconic 17th-century waterfront, canal and entertainment district. Despite being a little touristy and expensive, it’s a great spot for photos. Just look at those gorgeous buildings.
The Danes are pretty well known for their commitment to hygge – but what does that actually mean? Well you can learn all about it at The Happiness Museum, curated by Denmark’s Happiness Research Institute. Lots of fascinating takeaways from this place about how different cultures measure happiness and I found myself reflecting deeply afterwards. All millennials (or anyone feeling slightly lost in life) should come here!
I cut my teeth doing design PR, so I couldn’t miss this and it totally delivered. Who knew so much thought went into the development of a chair? If you get satisfaction from efficiency and beautiful problem-solving, you’ll love spending a couple of hours at the Design Museum.
Shake off the chill with a cycle about the city
Probably the best way to see Copenhagen – especially between May and September. Use the app Donkey Republic to hire bikes.
Do a walking Tour
A great way to understand the city’s history. Every tour is different, but ours covered the royal family and Denmark’s WWII experience. If you’re not booking via your hostel or hotel, try Get your Guide or Guru Walks.
Visit the Little Mermaid statue
Emphasis on “little”. She’s teeny but powerful – just look at her Disney empire! The statue is an ode to one of Denmark’s most famous writers, Hans Christian Anderson and sits in edge of the Langelinie promenade, making an excuse for a nice walk.
Ride around Tivoli Gardens
Continuing the Disney link – I recently discovered during this podcast by The Rest is History, that Tivoli gardens amusement park was Walt Disney’s original inspiration for the disney parks. Feels a bit random having a theme park bang in the centre of a city but if you fancy an adrenalin rush, it’s typically open from March.
Describing itself as an “intentional community”, Freetown Christiania is a separate community in Copenhagen with a history dating back to the 1970s. It has its own laws, flag and way of life. Visitors can enjoy the cafes, art, and market, and it seems there’s often live music and other arty things going on. It’s definitely worth seeing for a different side of the city.
Cross the Bridge to Malmö or Lund
Why not cross the bridge from The Bridge and head into Sweden?
Copenhagen sits right on the border, and it’s just a short train ride across the Øresund Bridge into Malmö in Sweden. From there, Lund is around an hour away.
Lund – home of the Oatly factory – is a charming university town and worth stopping in for a night or two to sample the café culture and wander around the historic university buildings. I spent a lovely two days checking out the vintage shops and cafe hopping here. Some favourites included Broder Jakobs and Too Motch.
I didn’t particularly love Malmö, but the Disgusting Food Museum is admittedly a fun (if slightly grim) stop if you’re in the area.
A place of quality not quantity
Copenhagen isn’t the cheapest city break but if you want somewhere that combines good food, thoughtful design and just enough culture to feel smug about it afterwards, the Danish capital is hard to beat. Between the pastries, museums, harbour swims and slightly intimidatingly stylish locals, it’s a city that feels both relaxed and quietly inspiring. I went with friends, but also had some days alone, and found it very well suited to solo travelling (for more solo city break inspo, read my Porto blog). If you’re into looking like you belong on a design mood board, visit between May and September when the city really comes alive. I’d be intrigued to see what it’s like in winter – maybe another time!
