The Copenhagen Report

Tucked around a little corner of Vesterbrogade, not far from Enghavevej, lies a troika of late-night temptresses that many a late-night reveller in Copenhagen has succumbed to on one occasion or another. If you've been there once for a late night rollick, you've probably been there twice. Perhaps it last occurred during the late hours of a festively glowing December night, as each of the evenings for the next three weeks will be, following one of those infamous schnapps-and-herring-fueled Danish Christmas lunches. Maybe it capped off one of those rare Copenhagen warm summer nights in July, as the sun was rising in the east. Or a frosty night in January as early-hour cyclists bravely laid tracks in the freshly-fallen snow sprinkled over the street as they peddled their way home. Or perhaps it was some other random evening, a mid-week drinking session which would otherwise have been forced to a premature ending at the hands of one in Vesterbro that was less willing - and certainly wouldn't have you after midnight.

In any event, what is certain is that whichever of these three ladies-of-the-night it was that caught your eye, it was surely the foggy distortion of a pair of thick beer-goggles that attracted you to one or the other. Their names are Ludvigsen, Hacken Busch, and the incomparable (and still-smoke filled) Mørkbar. Lying within eyeshot of each other on Vesterbrogade, they are shameless in their overtures at these late hours. But they are also deceitful, for in truth they are three thirsty vampires who under the moonlit sky of the night want nothing less than fresh blood. And as it happens plenty are willing to oblige them. Time and again. Punters lusting after one, two, three of four final late-night barley-wurlitzers (or worse) which they can and do willingly and shamelessly provide.

And so it was last night as I left the clutches of Mistress Hackenbusch (and a half-emptied shot of noxious black Små Grå) in the wee hours of the morning and headed home to the comforts of my soft bed that I found myself thinking about this unlikely yet powerful seductive pull that these three late-night Vesterbro temptresses possess, and wondering if it really had to be like this.