3 Hours at a Café in Copenhagen

A bustling café on a November day in Copenhagen. As three hours pass in this little corner of the world, what actually unfolds here? What are people conversing about, how are they behaving? What’s it like to feel present right here, without actually being here?

PR/Copenhagen Fashion Week Fall 19, available via Your Danish Life © All rights belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

The sounds of chatter, laughter, and clinking cups mix with mellow tunes of café music drifting in the background. The warm, comforting aroma of freshly baked pastries and roasted coffee fills the air in a lovely café in the heart of Copenhagen. For me, it’s familiar surroundings—a place to unwind, get inspired, or socialize. For me, it’s just a café I love down the street. To you, dear reader, it’s probably unknown, existing only in your imagination; an image painted by a few descriptions of sounds, smells, and aromas. For you, it might not exist at all. Yet here it is. And where you are right now—perhaps on your sofa, taking a study break, or, for all I know, having a moment in the bathroom—is completely unknown to me. We’re often wrapped up in our own worlds, stuck in our own thoughts. We’re always thinking about everything—our problems, plans, solutions. But maybe it’s time to take a moment. Instead of constantly rushing forward, we could all use a reminder to pause. Relax and notice—what are people around you actually saying? How are they behaving? And why does it matter? That’s what I’m trying to understand. So here we are, from start to finish, in a cozy café, capturing a small moment of life and yet a picture that is much bigger than ourselves. Perhaps you’ve been to Copenhagen, perhaps not, but by the end of this piece, you’ll have a unique glimpse into the essence of this exact, present moment.

Jeez, it’s freezing out today, isn’t it?

So, what do I notice when I look around? The hot topic, so to say, is unmistakable. From outside to inside, the cold slaps you in the face. For those of us in Copenhagen—and many others alike across the globe—the weather grows more brutal by the minute. Small talk about the weather has always been a sure way to succeed in a casual little conversation, whether with a friend or a mere acquaintance. And as the little café slowly fills up, red-nosed faces drift through the door, bringing with them chatter about the chilly weather that surrounds us like a soundproof bubble. Although, at first glance, it may seem a bit shallow—we all talk about the weather; it’s not that deep—actually, it’s totally that deep. At this current moment, we find ourselves in a time of transition. The leaves are falling, the cold creeps in as temperatures drop and early winter is knocking, with shops already setting up Christmas decor with the familiar holiday tunes. Early November always brings a conflicted feeling; a somewhat eerie transition of autumn slipping into winter. This transition touches everything—our surroundings, our clothing, even our physical reactions to this weather. It influences deep layers of our conversations; you hear it everywhere—“Sorry I’m late; I couldn’t find my scarf,” one woman says to a friend, tumbling through the door with a blast of cold wind. “My skin’s so dry lately,” another friend states with great concern. These snippets, blends of surrounding conversations—concerns about our grandparents at this time of year, upcoming Christmas parties, which boots to wear—all trace back to the chill. From our choices of seeking indoors to a warm, cozy café rather than a public bench, to the switch from cold, refreshing drinks to warm, hearty ones. We cover up in layer upon layer as we venture outside, just to throw them aside once we reach the warm destination. The impact of weather on our lives is deeper than we often realize. In Denmark and across Scandinavia, it’s even more significant. It threads through our traditions, shapes our values, and colors our language and our perception of time. We Scandinavians are tied to nature, and it’s reflected not only in big ways but beautifully hidden in the smallest details of daily conversations. That’s probably why we tend to stumble through the door and greet our friends with a big smile and that timeless remark: “Jeez, it’s freezing out today, isn’t it?”

If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.

As I sit among strangers, acquaintances, and friends, another beautiful observation emerges. As people greet one another with warm hugs, big smiles, and cheerful greetings, all with the gentle café tunes in the background—a comforting warmth fills the room. Though not always, yet most of the time, we humans genuinely do like each other—and we love interacting. Especially in a cozy café, meeting old friends, catching up with best mates, or having a coffee with a partner, we love spending time with each other and we thrive in others' company. And it brings us, oh, so much joy. Grand smiles, loud laughs, and soft voices fill the air. We all have rich social networks that sometimes are far more intricate than we realize. That one friend from middle school you occasionally think of? Chances are, they’re thinking of you, too. And as I sit here, witnessing new friendships being born and the oldest of tales deepening, I’m reminded of the strength of our social bonds. There’s nothing we cherish more than great company, and the thrill of seeing friends arrive is immeasurable. As people stroll through the little café door, by themselves or in groups, they’re met with open arms and wide smiles. And, sometimes, there’s no better way of acquiring a little dose of self-love than spending time with loved ones. So it happens, after a while, I come to realize that the people who have slowly filled up the room are, in fact, at this very café for a birthday celebration. If you know anything about Danish birthdays, you know what that means—flags everywhere. Friends enter with flags and gifts tucked under their arms, ready to deepen those social bonds and, perhaps, even spark new ones. Whatever has brought us to this café today, we all share one thing in common: a desire to connect with others, to socialize, and to nurture our friendships.

The four corners of this little room.

Sitting by a large window overlooking the street, I watch people rush past. They’re all so busy, all heading somewhere. But exactly where they’re going is completely unknown to us—and, honestly, no one here seems to mind. They don’t notice or even care. In fact, everyone here is so immersed in the present moment that, for them, nothing is happening outside. If a tree falls and no one hears it, did it really fall? All this—our conversations, our actions—are confined to this small room; to these four corners. Upon entering, it’s as if everything outside fades away, and everyone is focused on simply being here, now. Scandinavians and Danish people alike are known for being particularly, well, reserved—and that’s perfectly fine. But it seems that with good company, a welcoming public space, and warm conversations, everyone opens up. Whether this stereotype is true or not doesn’t matter. What matters are the people here, their ease, their openness to the present moment. Within these four walls lies a world of its own, a world of people, stories, and laughter that no one outside knows about. And so, the same is happening in a similar café down the street or a thousand miles away. There are countless worlds within our world, and they’re endlessly fascinating. Yet, our attention remains limited, focused on our current surroundings. We possess limited attention capabilities, just enough to navigate our own daily lives. So, how could we possibly care about every little thing around us? But in this small café, individual lives intertwine, blending into a single shared story—the story of sitting in a little café in the heart of Copenhagen. Whatever’s happening outside is, for now, none of our business. The people walking past on the street have their own stories, just as we do, separated only by four walls, a small door, and a fragile window.

I, like everyone else here, am enjoying the moment. As I sit here in my own world, others sit in theirs, creating a world of worlds. What would we gain from paying more attention to our surroundings? Could deeper awareness of the things around us enrich our lives? Perhaps it would even deepen our understanding of others’ lives, of their environments. How does one person’s perspective differ so vastly from another’s? And how does our awareness shape our judgment of our surroundings? Just in this small room, there’s so much to say, so many impressions, so many layers of meaning hidden in plain sight. There aren’t enough hours or words to capture it all—the little details, the subtle nuances. And intriguingly, that’s just in this one café; imagine how much lies beneath the surface, all around us.