Thanks to Copenhagen's Jazz Festival, I'm Getting More Arrogant By the Minute

1.
Please consider this blog a church.

You should bow your head in reverence when you enter. Perhaps you should even whisper a word of thanksgiving for having the great (mis)fortune of visiting these scribblings.

Why do I write this? Well, because Danish Accent is an award winner now - a fact that has made me even more arrogant than before. You would understand if you could see me now. I'm sitting in the oldest and most prestigeous luxury hotel in Copenhagen called D' Angleterre - a hotel that is 200 years old and smells like it, too.

No, it would be an exaggeration to say that I won the hotel, but I won two nights in luxury with My Pale Girlfriend Who Shall Remain Nameless Until She Gets a Tan. I wrote the best and weirdest blog about Denmark in an online contest. The happy givers are Denmark.net and Copenhagen's Jazz Festival, bless their souls.

My winning entry was Denmark for Dummies - a Superficial Introduction to the Happiest Country on Earth. If you're a regular to this blog, you might have read it before, but it pretty much tells you everything you don't need to know about our Southern Scandinavian paradise.


2.
D'Angleterre is situated in the middle of Copenhagen and looks like a white cheese cake. It has a grand entrance and an aura of old school. The staff is scarily polite. In Denmark politeness is scary; it's as rare as diamonds.

By the way, every celebrity in the world has slept here including Hans Christian Andersen, Ronald Reagan, Diana Ross, the Queen of Jordan, Claudia Schiffer, Michael Jackson, Walt Disney, Winston Churchill, and Hermann Göring, the fat slob. And let's not forget Lou Reed and Imelda Marcos. They weren't here as a couple though; I doubt the two of them would shag up.

So yes, I'm definitely enjoying the high life with My Pale Girlfriend. A moment ago I shampooed my hair in French champagne, then I had breakfast next to a weapon dealer with a porn model in tow.

The guests at D'Angleterre are more classy than us but then again that doesn't say a lot.

3.
The last day of the jazz festival takes place while we're testing our double bed.

As always, it's a great event with more than 600 concerts. Big names like The Blind Boys of Alabama and Chick Corea grace our city along with local bands on every street corner. Most of the audience seem to be older people - jazz doesn't appeal much to the young. Maybe that's why they have Jazz for Kids - a way to get adolescents addicted to swing instead of heroin?

Whether it works or not, I have no idea. All I can say is that the Copenhagen Jazz Festival is a wonderful event. No matter where you turn you run into a sweaty saxophone player. You even got bands in the canal boats. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a Dixieland trio in one of the public toilets. When we Danes throw a festival, we mean business.


4.
The only problem is the weather. As my girlfriend says, "it's colder in Copenhagen in July than in Portland in February." And February in Portland is pretty gruesome if you want to know.

However, fairy tales should have a happy ending, so the last day the weather turns gorgeous. The sun actually comes out, it's 66 degrees, and we stroll around the city with The Lady is a Tramp ringing in our ears. So no, we wouldn't mind coming back next year if Denmark. net awards me with another luxury weekend at D'Angleterre.

To tell you the truth, luxury becomes me. And I kind of like the idea that Imelda Marcos and her 1001 shoes stayed in the same room as me ...