Copenhagen’s Unique Tivoli Gardens

Tivoli’s Chinese pagoda and a roller coaster loop that turns people on their heads.

On the Vietnam Airlines flight to Denmark, I sat next to a Swedish man returning to Stockholm via Copenhagen from a business trip to Vietnam. We got into a rambling conversation ranging from his involvement with a startup business that recycles discarded pieces of synthetic fabrics that are cut away in the production of garments to life in Vietnam, the decline of the United States in the hands of malevolent fascists, to things to do in Copenhagen.

The company he works for has been created around some useful ideas, a reminder to me that there are literally thousands of niches in our mass consumption, growth-is-always-good global economy for businesses with ideas that make life on earth a bit less wasteful and a bit more sustainable.

But his thoughts on things to see in Copenhagen were of more immediate value to me. Among other places, he recommended I visit Tivoli which, as I understood his brief description, not entirely accurately as it turned out, was a beautiful space enclosing an amusement park.

No rides for me. I’m headed for a table and an icy cocktail in a tall glass.

On my second day in Copenhagen I set out around 7:00 am and walked over to Tivoli Gardens only to find the place would not open until 11:00, and when it did, I would need a ticket costing around $23 to go in. I returned late afternoon on my third day, and after buying my ticket and entering the Gardens, I discovered that Tivoli is indeed a beautiful place which features far more than an amusement park that requires a fee to enter. In addition to more than two dozen amusement rides inside the park (each of which requires the purchase of another ticket), Tivoli Gardens also has: a wide variety of restaurants and eateries within, ranging from several restaurants with Michelin stars to a food court serving different kinds of street foods; replicas of a Chinese pagoda (that looks more Japanese to me) and a Moorish palace; regular music, theatre and dance performances, as well as events for kids; and a very pricey five star hotel on the grounds if you are interested in spending a night or two.

When you’ve had enough walking, there’s plenty of places for a drink or a meal.

A ticket to enter the park, plus a few rides, and then drinks and dinner, an outing to Tivoli can turn into an expensive day in no time, especially for a family. Though there are various ticket deals varied to what people want to do during their visits. And there is an annual pass ticket for locals who are likely to visit Tivoli several times during the year.

The five-star Nimb Hotel is inside the Moorish palace.

As for me I spent a couple of hours walking around on a beautifully sunny and warm early June afternoon soaking in the sights and the ambience. I came across a gathering of people watching a broadcast on a huge outdoor screen. I stopped to listen to the Lord Mayor of Copenhagen, a 40ish woman named Sisse Marie Welling of the Green Left party, talking with a hot shot from Michelin about Copenhagen’s efforts to turn itself into the foodie capital of Europe. Sure. Why not?

While the city’s goal did little to inspire, it did get me thinking about having a proper dinner at one of the many restaurants in Tivoli Gardens. After spending some time reading restaurant reviews, I ended up in a place called Paafuglen that serves Danish cuisine. I did the works: an aperitif, first course of seasonal white asparagus in a creamy sauce, a main of baked haddock with new potatoes and washed down with a bottle of piss elegant sparkling water, ice cream for dessert, and finally coffee. It was a delicious, memorable dinner, the service was impeccable, and it was not cheap.

Tivoli Gardens, a unique, delightful place that was absolutely worth the price of admission.

The Old Town Hall, Ribe, Denmark

The old town hall of Ribe pictured in part here is in the center of the old village near the town square and Ribe Cathedral. The original town hall on this site was built in 1496, though it is not clear to me whether the building pictured here is the original structure or a newer one. Today the old town hall houses a museum that I did not visit and occasionally hosts local weddings.

Mostly I like the colors and textures in this image: the wall with old and new red brickwork, the wooden door with its wrought iron decorations, granite foundation stones of grays and browns, and cobblestones in the foreground. The street light in front of the building casts a shadow giving the image depth.

Copenhagen’s Iconic Nyhavn Canal

The iconic – or cliche – it’s your choice – photo of Copenhagen invariably shows a row colorful buildings along the Nyhavn. I had always assumed that Nyhvan was a Copenhagen neighborhood featuring a lot of colorful architecture. As usual, on this trip, I did not do enough homework about the places I would visit before showing up at the scene. In fact Nyhvan is a canal commissioned by the Danish King Christian V and completed in 1675. The Nyhvan let ships unload trade goods and fish in Kongens Nytrov (Kings Square), an area at the end of the canal also developed by Christian V, who did a great deal to expand Copenhagen during his reign. In any event, it is only the roughly 300m waterfront of the Nyhvan Canal that is lined with colored buildings and this appears to be the only place such buildings are to be found in Copenhagen.

Over time, as ocean-going ships became larger, only smaller ships engaged in local trade came into the canal. By the mid-20th century even this trade had declined and there were no ships visiting Nyhavn. Efforts to revitalize the canal began in the 1960s and 1970s. Today, in addition to traditional buildings of many colors, there are several old sailing vessels moored to the piers along the waterway. The entire Nyhavn canal area serves as a sort of outdoor museum for Copenhagen.

My own Nyhavn colorful buildings cliche photo was taken on a gray, overcast morning; the light was very flat. If I had been paying more attention to content and less to exposure and color in the flat light, I probably would have chosen a group of buildings that did not include a Chinese restaurant. The place seems a little incongruous in a photo that is supposed to be representative of traditional Copenhagen.

I took the photo below with my back to the buildings in the photo above. It shows some of the sailing ships docked in the canal, and gives more sense of the overall look of the Nyhavn area. This was taken on the day after my first visit to Nyhavn. I stopped briefly on my way to another part of Copenhagen to get a photo of the old boats docked along the canal. The morning offered up some hazy sunlight that gives the entire scene a bit of a glow.

The Belfry of Bruges, Belgium

Belgium just happens to be on my mind right about now, so I decided to take a break from Denmark and the Danes today.

Bruges was the first city in northern Europe visited by merchant vessels from Genoa in the 13th century, becoming the endpoint of seaborne trade going through the Straits of Gibraltar, along the eastern Atlantic coastline, and through the English Channel to the low countries in the north. Today much of the center of old Bruges is a beautifully preserved UNESCO World Heritage site drawing tourists from all over Europe. The Belfry, visible from everywhere in the old city, stands in the Grote Markt in the center of Bruges.

As for Belgium being on my mind, I just finished watching that country’s national team defeat the US team 4 to 1 in a World Cup football match. While I sympathize with the US players who now have to come to terms with being beaten and knocked out of the World Cup competition, I can’t say I am put out or upset that the US lost. Given the performance of the garbage representing our country right now, the US does not deserve to win any accolades these days. It is as simple as that.

Belgium moves on to a Quarterfinal match with Spain on 11 July.

Mỹ Sơn: Legacy of the Cham People

About one hour to the west of Hoi An, the UNESCO World Heritage Site, Mỹ Sơn, was an important religious center of the Cham people. The earliest Cham settlements in what is now central and southern Vietnam date back to the 3rd century CE. At some point early in their history, the Cham came into contact with Hinduism and adopted some variant of that religion. While there is debate about the extent to which the Cham in Vietnam were a unified kingdom, there is no question that Cham polities functioned throughout much of Vietnam for hundreds of years. They were traders and seafarers – Hoi An was originally a Cham port city and trading center – who developed a sophisticated civilization that presented formidable challenges to the Vietnamese living in the northern part of today’s Vietnam. For many years, there were ongoing conflicts and wars between the Cham and the Vietnamese. As the Vietnamese moved south, they eventually overran the Cham and absorbed their culture, though it was not until the 19th century that the last Cham enclaves were subdued.

Vietnamese friends have told me that the Cham people have been completely assimilated into the Vietnamese nation. While I suspect that is largely true, I have read that there is still a small, distinctly Cham ethnic minority in the country. How and to what extent Cham culture and customs have influenced the development of Vietnamese culture, I simply do not know enough about the very complex history of interaction between to two peoples to comment.

I have made two trips to My Son. The first time I went, it was a cloudy gray day. The second time I went, it was a cloudy and raining gray day. The photo above is from my second visit in November of 2024.

Temple on a Mountainside, Kyoto

Located in the foothills around Mt. Otowa to the east of Kyoto, Kiyomizu-dera Temple overlooks modern Kyoto. The temple was established in 788 CE during Japan’s Nara period, and affiliated with the venerable Hosso sect of Japanese Buddhism. Today, the monks caring for Kiyomizu-dera belong to the Kita-Hosso sect. Taken from the balcony of one of the smaller halls, this image shows the temple’s Main Hall and the pagoda in the entrance area on the far right with the city of Kyoto in the distance.

The West Gate is in the foreground with the temple’s pagoda directly in back. I am facing due east at 9:00am on an overcast morning. Why I have no photo of the larger, more impressive main gate to Kiyomizu-dera just to the left of where I am standing to take this photo is absolutely beyond me. I do, however, have a photo showing part of the main gate taken from inside the entrance with Kyoto in the distance. To the west, some blue sky has broken through the clouds.

For awhile it appeared that the day would become bright and sunny as the photos of the pagoda above and, below, of the West Gate from inside the entrance to Kiyomizu-dera suggest.

Kiyomizu-dera’s Main Hall sits on a steep incline and is supported by a wooden trellis that sets the building’s platform some 13 meters above the base of the incline below. My photo of the Main Hall does not really do justice to the building itself because I am distracted by the size of the crowd on the platform. It is no surprise that crowds of people want to visit a site like Kiyomizu-dera with its magnificent examples of Japanese temple architecture in a beautiful setting offering breathtaking views of its surroundings. I am taking the photo below at 9:45 in the morning on any old Tuesday in October. The crowd is bound to be larger by midday, and one can only imagine what happens on weekends or holidays. It is no wonder that some locales are instituting reservation systems that allow access at a specific time on a given day for popular sites with high volumes of visitors. If they are not in Japan already I would not be at all surprised to see such reservations systems arriving soon in Kyoto and elsewhere in the country. With literally billions of people able to afford relatively low-cost flights and budget tours, the problem of unsustainable over-tourism is not likely to get better in the foreseeable future.

A short way up the hillside from the main temple area, this small pagoda overlooks the Main Hall. By this time the clouds had returned and there was not much sunshine left. I did not make it all the way to the pagoda, instead turning to head down to the Otowa Waterfall at the base of the incline with the Main Hall at the top. Water is indeed falling from three pipes into a small pool, though Otowa is not what we generally think of as a waterfall. Be that as it may, Wikipedia tells us that Kiyomizu-dera means “pure water temple.” Those who drink a cupful of water from the falls are purified. I decided a single cup was unlikely to meet my needs for purification and kept on walking.

Despite the crowds of people, there were quiet spots and moments of peace for contemplation throughout the temple area.

The Japanese Bridge in the Evening

After weeks of endless cloudy days and rain, yesterday was dry, sunny and gorgeous, offering a perfect opportunity for a dinnertime stroll through the Hoi An Old Town. The recently refurbished Japanese Bridge – it was built in the 16th century by a community of Japanese traders living in the area – looks great, all clean and shiny and lit up in the evening.

Inari: Shinto Deity of Sake, Kyoto

The Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto is the principal shrine in Japan for the Shinto deity Inari. In fairness to the deity, I should add that, in addition to being the deity of sake, Inari is also the Shinto spirit for agriculture and rice, and is associated with prosperity and worldly success. The shrine was first established in 711 CE, but it was one hundred years later that it moved to its current location. The entrance to the shrine area is on the outskirts of Kyoto at the base of a small mountain, the peak of which is 233 meters about sea level. The shrine’s main buildings are located near the entrance, and beyond this area are several trails leading from the entrance to the summit of the mountain with a number of smaller shrines to Inari along the paths.

The photo at the top of the page shows the main entrance to the shrine—the Romon or Two-Storied Gate. The Romon faces west and, as I approach, glows in the late afternoon sun of a dazzling October day. Below is the Romon from the other side after passing through the entrance. The shrine’s website (https://inari.jp/en/) notes that the gate was built in 1589 by a powerful samurai and feudal lord (daimyo) named Toyotomi Hideyoshi.

The view of the Romon after walking through the gate; the afternoon sun is directly behind the building.

I arrived at Fushimi Inari Taisha shortly after four in the afternoon. Already a bit worn out from a long day, I walked around the main shrine area near the entrance, but did not make it to the top of the mountain. Fushimi Inari Taisha is, perhaps, best known for the Senborn Torii, more than 800 brightly painted vermilion torii placed close together and forming a sort of tunnel that winds part of the way up the mountain. Altogether, there are thousands of torii donated by worshipers in the main shrine area and along the paths leading to the top of the mountain. (For more about torii: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torii.) I had planned to walk through the Senborn Torii, but when I got to the beginning of the walkway and saw the crowd of people already walking inside, I changed my mind. Not much tranquility or peace of mind to be found on that walk, or so it seemed to me.

The entrance to the Senborn Torii.
The Senborn Torii.

All of the shrines and temples I visited in Japan were beautifully preserved and diligently cared for; Fushimi Inari Taisha was no exception. The first of the images that follow is of the Honden—the Main Shrine. I tried to get a closer, more revealing view of this building, but each time I composed a photo one or more visitors planted themselves in such a way that they blocked a key part of the composition. It had already been a long day, and after a few tries, I settled for the photo I had and moved on.

The Honden—the Main Shrine
Probably the Gonden—I have no information about this building near the entrance of the Inari shrine.
I’m going with an incense burner until someone tells me otherwise.
The Hall of Shinto Music and Dance
The Divine Horse House

Around 5:30 or so both of my feet put themselves down and said, “Enough is enough, time to go.” I was dragging, and it was indeed time to head back to my hotel. After walking through the Two-Storied Gate headed for the metro stop, I turned for a final look at Fushimi Inari Taisha. What I saw was a lot of people many of whom were also on their way out, and in the background, the roof of the old guard house next to the main gate.

Visitors come and go at the entrance to the Shinto shrine Fushimi Inari Taisha.

I turned away and headed in the direction of the metro down the narrow street full of people and lined with shops.

This narrow street eventually ends at the entrance to Japan Rail’s Inari station.

To-ji, an Ancient Kyoto Temple

Early Monday morning, my first day in Kyoto, I set out on foot, walking to the To-ji Temple about 2km from my hotel. To-ji was established in 796 CE shortly after Japan’s imperial capital moved to Kyoto from Nara. It was one of only three temples allowed in the new capital city.

The buildings in the temple compound, built of wood that was darkly stained, were magnificent. Though the designs of the buildings are similar to temples I have seen in China, I have come across nothing comparable to this unpainted, natural wood style in temples elsewhere in the region. The photo above is of the Kondo, To-ji’s Main Hall. The original structure in this location was destroyed by fire; this reconstruction was completed in 1603. One of the pieces I read about To-ji says the Kondo incorporates elements of an Indian temple design style.

I choose this temple, in part, because I could walk to the site. The main Kyoto rail station that was near my hotel is the city’s transportation hub. Not only does it offer bullet train service to other parts of Japan, there are also half a dozen or maybe more urban rail systems that originate in or pass through Kyoto station. The place is enormous and both the station and the surrounding area are crowded with people, as I discovered when I arrived in the city late on a Sunday afternoon. I did not feel like figuring out how to navigate the city’s public transit system, with its multiple providers, to get to another site on a dazzling October morning. A quick check of Google Maps indicated To-ji Temple was in easy walking distance, and a quick look at Wikipedia suggested it was worth a visit. Both were correct.

The southern gate of To-ji that opens directly in front of the Main Hall is another impressive natural wood structure. To-ji rendered in Japanese, as seen on the two white lanterns, is 東寺, which means “east temple.” The two characters have the same meaning in Chinese, though the words in the two spoken languages do not sound the same at all. At one time there was a “west temple” near To-ji, but it was destroyed at some point in the past.

The Kodo or the Lecture Hall sits behind the Main Hall. The first building on this site was completed in the 9th century CE. The present Lecture Hall, which retains the design of the original was completed in 1491.

I arrived at To-ji Temple a bit before 8 in the morning; it was a beautiful day, a delightful opportunity to stroll the grounds when there was virtually nobody else around. The Main Hall and the Lecture Hall are fenced off, you cannot get close to them without a ticket, something I did not realize when I walked into the compound. I eventually found a ticket office and bought a ticket that gave me access to a garden with a five story pagoda in its midst, and the main temple buildings. Upon entering the ticketed area, I immediately went down a rabbit hole that I hoped would lead me to a vantage point that allowed me to photograph the pagoda without shooting directly into the morning sun at the same time. I failed; the vantage point for morning color photography was to the south outside of the compound.

After I settled for some disappointing shots of the pagoda, I left To-ji and headed back towards the train station area. Having purchased a ticket that gave me access to the central temple compound, why I left when I did instead of doubling back and taking a closer look at the main temple buildings is absolutely beyond me. This trip convinced me that my approach to the kind of travel photography I like is too erratic and undisciplined. More research in advance of going to a site I may very well only visit once would help me walk away with a folder of photos that has a chance of capturing what the site is about.

Back at home in the digital darkroom, I eventually gave up trying to process color images of the pagoda. With the sun more or less in my face, I could bring out virtually no detail at all of the building itself. It was just undifferentiated shadow. I got better results when I converted the images to black and white.

Saturday Night Out and About, Tokyo

This walking street near Ueno Station in Tokyo is crowded with people looking for a good dinner and a good time on a Saturday night. A great place to spend my final night in Tokyo before heading to Kyoto the next day.

I have been taking a lengthy, unwelcome break from editing photos due to a contorted muscle in my hip that makes a nearby nerve unhappy, the result being eye-opening pain in my left leg. For those interested, the malady is called piriformis syndrome. Although I am still struggling with this miserable affliction, I have decided to get back to working on the folder brimming with photos from my October trip to Japan.