Just arrived in Copenhagen? Welcome to Denmark! Now here's what nobody tells you.

From getting an ugly bicycle and navigating the honor system on public transport to dating, drinking, saving money, seeing a Danish doctor, and even talking to a priest when you're feeling lonely, here are 13 quick tips to help you understand Copenhagen and settle into Danish life.

Some are practical. Some are surprising. And some could save you from making a very Danish mistake.

13 Quick Tips for Newcomers to Copenhagen — a lightning round from Kay Xander Mellish, host of the How to Live in Denmark podcast.

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The How to Live in Denmark podcast is the longest-running English-language podcast in Denmark, and one of the leading English-language resources on Danish culture and everyday life in Denmark now.

The podcast host is Kay Xander Mellish, an American author, speaker, and cultural commentator who has lived in Copenhagen, Denmark, for more than 25 years.

Through her books, keynote speeches, workshops, and consulting, Kay helps international professionals, global companies, universities, and newcomers understand Danish culture, Danish working culture, cross-cultural communication, and the practical realities of living in Denmark.

She has advised organizations across Europe and North America on working effectively with Danish colleagues and building successful international teams.

She is the author of several books including How to Live in Denmark, How to Work in Denmark, Working with Americans: Tips for Danes, Working with Danes: Tips for Americans and The Danish Year. Her work combines firsthand experience, careful observation, and a dry sense of humor to explain not just what Danes do, but why they do it.

As an international keynote speaker, Kay speaks to audiences in Denmark, across Europe, and in the United States on Danish culture, Danish working culture, and cross-cultural communication. Kay saw one of the music group Nirvana's last live performances.

She lives in Copenhagen.

Copenhagen and Berlin are less than an hour apart by plane, but very different in spirit. Copenhagen is a mostly clean, mostly safe, mostly well-run, mostly get up early in the morning and get to work type of city. Berlin is fun, exciting, and a little bit chaotic.

Long before I lived in Copenhagen, I lived in Berlin for a couple of years. Imagine my surprise when, on a return visit, I found myself staying next to a shop called "Hygge", filled with Danish pillows, candles, and wooden figurines.

It was a Danish theme store, right in the middle of the German capital city, filled with items designed to create a cozy Copenhagen atmosphere in the raw rough streets of Berlin.

Of course, it's not uncommon for one city to have little tributes to a different city. After all, Copenhagen has a Berlin Bar, and a clothing store called New Yorker, and an Old Irish Pub.

But Berliners and Copenhagners have a special respect for each other. Berliners enjoy Copenhagen calm, while Copenhagners go to Berlin to get a taste of big-city life.

Hear more in this July 2026 podcast.

Read more at howtoliveindenmark.com, or book Kay Xander Mellish for an in-person or virtual presentation on Danish culture or living in Denmark at www.kxmgroup.dk.

Brok rhymes with clock, and it is a Danish word that describes the petty complaints that are common in one of the happiest countries in the world, and one of the richest.

It's complaining as a social activity, usually about things that are more irritating than dangerous.

I feel there's more Danish brok in the summer because people come into contact with each other, the joy of spring is gone, and the bugs are coming out, and it can be so hot.

But really brok can be a year-round occupation.

It's particularly common in the coffee room or lunchroom on job sites, where Danes complain about their working conditions, the Danish government, the Danish public health system, Danish public transport, in particular the national train service DSB or, the all-time favorite, the exasperating Danish weather.

Brok is a way of bonding – aren't we all irritated by the same thing? And a way of blowing off steam without ever confronting anyone directly, which is always a bit dangerous in Denmark, because the country is so small and you will run into the same people again and again.

These are the light times in Denmark. In May and June, it's light until 10 or 11 in the evening, and then the sun is back around 4am. It's a nice contrast to the dark times in winter, although all that light can make you feel a bit jittery and overstimulated. It's also one of the few times a year that the Danes close their curtains.

They do that so the first rays of sunshine won't wake them up at a painfully early hour.

At other times of the year, the curtains to homes and apartments are often wide open, and visitors to Denmark are sometimes surprised that they can see right into people's homes as they eat dinner or watch TV.

Keeping curtains open makes sense for the darker times of the Danish year when you're desperate for as much sunlight as possible. But it's also a sign of confidence in who you are and what you are presenting to the world, that you have nothing to hide. This is me. This is who I am.

Authenticity is a basic Danish value, just like trust and transparency and having a sense of humor about yourself. Denmark is not a status culture, it's not a place where you fake it until you make it. It's a place where you're expected to present yourself warts and all.

One thing no one ever tells you about moving to a new country is the incredible awkwardness of it. As a newcomer, you are constantly doing or saying or planning the wrong thing, something that would be perfectly reasonable in your home culture but is weird or laughable in your new location.

Like eating alone in a restaurant.

Eating alone is no big deal in Manhattan, where I was coming from, and it's also common in Japan, Korea, and Hong Kong, where I had briefly lived. But not in Denmark.

When I arrived in Denmark 25 years ago, I already had a job, as a content creator for a small tech company. What I didn't have was any friends, or any more than a superficial knowledge of Danish language or culture.

My new colleagues were very pleasant, but like most Danes over 25, they had already built their social networks and weren't really looking for someone to hang out with after work. So I spent most of my free time alone, living temporarily at a small hotel by Peblinge Sø, where I chatted aimlessly with the receptionist (who believed I was in love with him, I later found out). Then I went out to eat by myself at a local restaurant.

Danes generally don't eat alone at restaurants, so after a while I became a familiar figure that the staff called "the hamburger girl" after my standard order.

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This episode of the "How to Live in Denmark" podcast is the introduction of my new book, The Danish Year, available exclusively for download on Amazon Kindle.

Danes usually don't do spontaneous. They do calendars. This episode looks at why a country that can count 8,000 ballots in three hours still needs two weeks' notice for almost everything else.

From perfectly timed buses to highly efficient elections, Denmark's culture of planning keeps society running smoothly. But it can also make it hard for newcomers to connect, whether on a playground, a boat trip, or even just striking up a casual conversation.

Except, uniquely, in spring, when the rules loosen, plans get dropped, and Danes embrace the simple joy of a beer by the water. And there is almost always somewhere to have a beer by the water, wherever you are in Denmark.

If you're moving to Denmark or trying to build a life or career in Denmark, understanding this balance between structure and spontaneity is key.

After all, in Denmark, time is the most valuable currency. It's also the only thing that can't be taxed.

Some might say that the most Danish piece of furniture is the chair. The Swan Chair, the Egg Chair, the Wishbone chair. They're all international design classics. You can buy a poster with 100 of the top Danish chairs, and if you go to Designmuseum Danmark there is a hall of chairs you can walk through, the display cases stacked three high. Chairs, chairs, everywhere.

But I think the most Danish piece of furniture is the table. It is where traditional Danish cuisine is enjoyed, and sitting around the table, and sitting and sitting and sitting there for hours after a long meal, is where hygge reigns and people are included – or excluded, as the case may be.

A dinner invitation in Denmark

A dinner invitation to someone's home is an honor in Denmark, and people often dress better for it than they might dress for work.

Ladies put on a pretty ruffled blouse, men might wear a suit jacket or at least a shirt with buttons. And everyone arrives precisely on time. There's no such thing as fashionably late in Denmark; that's not the Danish dinner party customs.

For a dinner party like this, the host or hostess will set an elaborate table. There will be cloth napkins in napkin rings, probably some candles, maybe a few carefully chosen flowers as a centerpiece, not so many that you can't see the person on the other side of the table.

And there will be different glasses for different drinks. Water glasses, wine glasses, and often tiny little glasses for toasting with aquavit. Setting a beautiful table is a Danish art form.

Bring out the Royal Copenhagen dishes

Dinner parties are usually a very good time to bring out the Royal Copenhagen dishes.

You can't talk about Danish tables without talking about Royal Copenhagen, that blue and white porcelain first produced in 1775. At the time, porcelain was a real marvel.

It's hard to believe now, we're all so used to looking at antique shops full of unwanted dishes and kitchy porcelain figurines, but at the time, porcelain was the stuff of kings.

If you think Royal Copenhagen porcelain is just for tourists and ladies of a certain age, think again. It is hugely popular among young people. I work part time in a shop and I sell a lot of Royal Copenhagen porcelain to women in their 20s.

Two great business decisions from Royal Copenhagen

That's because of two great business decisions. First of all, Royal Copenhagen, which is now owned by a Finnish company, keeps updating its patterns.

The hand-painted dishes you buy now are not the hand-painted dishes grandma used to have with their little bitty lacy patterns, although you can still buy those if you want them.

But the most popular patterns now are bigger and bolder, still in the same cobalt blue. And you can put them in the dishwasher.

Breakage guarantee means you actually use your dishes

Secondly, in a strategy that should be studied by marketing students, they have a breakage guarantee. If a piece of your fancy porcelain breaks within two years of purchase, you get a new one for free.

This is to encourage people to actually eat off their plates, and use their coffee cups for coffee, instead of stashing them in a glass cupboard where people will look at them and dust them but never use them.

If you're Danish and are welcoming a new colleague to the country, or maybe the international spouse of a Danish friend, a piece of Royal Copenhagen to start their collection is a nice gift.

A team of co-workers did this for my housewarming when I first got here. I still have it.

Watching vintage TV and movies is a great way to survive the long Danish winter—and if you're learning Danish or trying to understand Danish culture, it's even better. Many classic Danish films and TV shows are available online for free.

Whatever your taste, there are Danish films for it: Danish film noir from the 1940s if you like crime dramas, the classic Olsen Gang comedies if you prefer something lighter, and Danish children's shows that are actually great for adults learning Danish because the language is so simple.

Denmark has been making movies since 1897, and Nordisk Film, founded in 1906, is still the world's oldest continuously operating film studio. You've probably seen their logo if you've been to the cinema in Denmark.

In this episode, I'll tell you about Danish cinema classics you should know about, from Mads Mikkelsen movies like Another Round (which won an Oscar) to vintage Danish TV series like Matador that every Dane has seen.

Want to know where to actually watch Danish movies online? I'll tell you about Filmstriben (free with your CPR number), DR.DK with its treasure trove of classic Danish television, and how Netflix has even started making new Danish-language TV series.

Plus, I'll explain how all this Danish movie production is funded by our giant Danish taxes—and why the government makes Netflix contribute too. It's all part of keeping Danish film and TV alive in an increasingly English-speaking world.

Perfect for: Expats in Denmark, anyone learning Danish, fans of Scandinavian films and Nordic cinema

The nisse is a centuries-old figure in Danish folklore, and every December these tiny, mischievous spirits take center stage. While Santa Claus makes one big appearance late in the month, the nisse are active the whole season long.

With their short stature and bright red hats, nisse are often mistaken for Santa's elves, but they live very different lives. Rather than helping in a workshop, nisse belong to individual households. They slip in and out of the walls at night, hide everyday objects, turn milk strange colors, and generally make harmless trouble. On December 24 they expect a bowl of rice pudding, and if they don't get it, they're known to act out.

In modern Denmark, nisse aren't just folklore—they're also big business. At the housewares shop where I work during the Christmas rush, we stock more than 450 nisse-related products. There are soft dolls, tree ornaments, and hand-painted figurines with names like Asbjørn, Thorkild, Elvin, Liam, and Olivia.

And then there are the accessories: tiny doors for the nisse to "enter" the home, miniature doormats, wooden shoes, rocking chairs, honey cakes, buckets, sleds, toolboxes, and of course the classic bowl of rice pudding. Many families—especially those with small children, and a surprising number of older women living alone—create small nisse worlds inside their homes.

Some families also hang kravlenisser, the little paper nisse that "crawl" up walls and windows. They're not as popular as they once were, mostly because they're inexpensive and don't fuel the booming nisse economy.

Nisse season extends into the workplace, too. Danes might be assigned a nisseven, or "nisse friend," for secret gift-giving at the office. And at holiday parties, even managers may don the pointed red nisse hat—a cheerful symbol of community and self-irony that sometimes surprises international colleagues.

From home traditions to office fun, the nisse remain an essential part of Christmas in Denmark: tiny spirits with big personalities, and an even bigger cultural footprint.

This is the final episode in our 12-part series, The Danish Year. Read more at howtoliveindenmark.com, or buy our books at books.howtoliveindenmark.com.

You can book Kay Xander Mellish, the voice behind the How to Live in Denmark podcast, for a speech or workshop on Danish culture or Danish working culture at events.howtoliveindenmark.com. Learn more about Kay at kxmgroup.dk.

November always seems like the rainiest of Danish months, but it isn't, actually. October is. But November feels rainier, because the sky is so grey, and it gets dark so early, and the rain sometimes comes down in little freezing pellets.

Denmark is a watery country, not just its long coastline and many rivers and lakes, but also the fact it is mostly near sea level. Like the Netherlands nearby, it is extremely vulnerable to flooding.

Climate changes in recent decades have made it worse, and sudden cloudbursts – or skybrud– cause a lot of damage.

So retrofitting Denmark for even more water in the future has become a national obsession.

One popular solution: opening up previously buried rivers and streams, particularly those that were paved over with concrete.

This "daylighting" of buried waterways allows them to collect excess water from storms, and beautifies cities as well.

This is the most recent episode in our 12-part series, The Danish Year.