Hygge to FOMO: How Copenhagen and Stockholm Changed the Way I Think

The heat wave that hit Europe this year began in June and finished about two days ago. With no relief from the heat, August arrived. That was my sign to head up to the north, the far north. My destination was the famously hygge Copenhagen, Denmark, followed by sophisticated Stockholm. My objective was to find cooler weather, visit with good friends, and hopefully get a little hygge Copenhagen style. A surprise encounter with a couple of Dutch and French men in Stockholm taught me that a healthy case of the Fear of Missing Out syndrome (FOMO) drives how I approach life in general.

First stop Copenhagen, Denmark

Despite the fact that the Danish have had to deal with the potential hostile American takeover of Greenland, I have never found them to be more friendly towards me. There were many times when they asked where I came from, and I so wanted to tell them I was Canadian. In jest, they understood that I came in peace, and had no intention to stake a claim on a Danish asset. Well, at least not the kind of asset they were worried about.

This is my fourth trip to Copenhagen, and I always find something magical about the city that keeps me wanting to return. There is this feeling of peaceful enchantment to be in its presence. It’s walkable, the people are pleasant, and the language barrier is never a problem. It’s a perfect place to escape the summer heat, while enhancing your cultural cachet.

This time I wanted to participate fully in the history of the city, and found myself doing far more educationally-minded things than I typically would do. I spent my time in museums and walking through its smaller neighborhoods to explore the shops and localities. I paid more attention to its story, and the fascinating link between the Danish royal family and most of the former European royalties.

I toured its palaces and churches, and took long walks alongside the myriad of canals that traverse its central zone. I paid attention to the city in a way that I haven’t in the past. I felt a little bit of Danish hygge, even though I had no idea at the time what it meant.

Just so you know, I really did stretch my cultural muscles on this trip and learned more about Danish history than I ever expected. Case in point is the painting below.

There I was, standing in one of the reception rooms at Christiansborg Palace, completely transfixed by a monumental painting that stopped me in my tracks. Painted by Danish artist Laurits Tuxen between 1883 and 1886, it depicts King Christian IX of Denmark surrounded by his vast extended royal family, which just happened to include the future King of England, the Tsar of Russia, and the King of Greece.

Christian IX and his wife Queen Louise became so well connected through their children’s marriages that they earned the nickname “The Grandfather and Grandmother of Europe.” I absolutely loved that. Standing before it, you realize that this small, quietly confident Scandinavian nation was sitting at the very center of European history. It’s the kind of thing that no guidebook could ever prepare you for. Of all the things I experienced in Copenhagen, this moment was my favorite. Very hygge, indeed.

The Danish Concept of Hygge Copenhagen Style

The Danish phrase hygge (pronounced hoo-gah) is hard to fully grasp, but in general it seems to fit with Italian dolce far niente, or the sweetness of doing nothing. Perhaps it’s best described as taking the time to pause from life’s hectic schedule and enjoy the best things in life with family and friends that can’t be bought or sold. Hygge can be a verb, adjective, or noun depending on the context: to hygge, to be hygge, or simply enjoy the hygge.

So it seemed a perfect week to just enjoy hygge Copenhagen like a true Dane, and who knows, maybe I’d have a hygge time.

When international surveys ask citizens around the world how happy they are with their daily lives and personal circumstances, Denmark always comes in among the top three happiest countries. But what makes the Danes so happy? Is it the tuition-free access to high-quality education, or the no-fee public health care? It could be all of the above, and the relative lack of crime and corruption. Even on the country’s official page there’s an entire section dedicated to Danish happiness.

Copenhagen is not enormous like Paris and London. It doesn’t have the rich historic artifacts of Rome, or the grand avenues like Paris. It doesn’t share the same riches to rags to riches story of Berlin, since Denmark was spared quite a bit of damage during the war, but it carries a certain energy of wellbeing from the past and present that is simply just Danish.

Perhaps it’s the mix of medieval and world-renowned modern architecture that is perfectly synchronized to coexist in the same space. Or maybe it’s the diverse mix of food and cultures that find themselves intermingled among strong and proud Scandinavian originals. It could be the fact that there is a deep sense of social and environmental responsibility, with more bicycles than residents in Copenhagen, and an almost nonexistent homeless population.

What’s fascinating is that the Danish maintain a deep appreciation for the United States, even after all of the geopolitical tension this last year. As a Dane explained to me, “If it weren’t for the Marshall Plan and the United States, we may have been part of the Eastern Bloc and aligned with Russia. That would have led to quite a different Denmark, and possibly quite a different Europe.”

I find the Danish to personify the ideals of a socially and environmentally conscious community of people that really do want people to live their highest quality life, without diminishing others in order to elevate themselves. The Danes pay some of the highest taxes in Europe, but with that comes perhaps the highest standard of living in the Western World. Perhaps that’s what makes hygge Copenhagen so irresistible.

Goodbye Hygge. Hello FOMO

After extending my time in Copenhagen by a few days, I had to make a beeline and head off to Stockholm, Sweden, where my prepaid hotel reservation was waiting.

Several years ago, just after the death of Darin, I took a 10-day cruise through the Baltics and spent 8 hours in Stockholm. It wasn’t enough. In fact, I spent most of those eight hours on a bus and on a tour of the ancient Swedish warship the Vasa, constructed in 1628, which upon its inaugural voyage sank within 15 minutes.

This time, as much as I appreciate the history of the Vasa, I wanted to get more real and into the true soul of Stockholm. If Copenhagen was a long slow exhale, Stockholm felt like someone had just turned the music up. What Copenhagen has in its compact, walkable, and quaint-feeling vibes of hygge, Stockholm has grandeur, open spaces and a dramatic waterfront.

The Land of Vikings and the Sea

If you ever need a reminder of where the Vikings came from, spend five minutes on the streets of Stockholm. If God was playing around with the genetic pool, he threw everything he had at the Swedes. The Nordic result is something to behold. It’s as if the entire population stepped out of a GQ meets Vogue meets gym-obsessed fever dream, and remained completely unaffected by their own good looks. Tall, like two meters, blonde or brunette with impossibly blue eyes, incredibly well-structured humans wandering around as if they just disembarked from a longship.

I suddenly understood exactly how the Vikings managed to terrorize most of Europe. If I looked like that, I’d probably invade a few countries too, or gladly allow myself to be invaded by a Swede.

The Night FOMO Won

Stockholm has a way of pulling you in deeper than you planned. On one of my last nights, I found myself at Sidetrack, a bar where I fell into easy conversation with two couples, one Dutch and one French. They were considerably younger than me, though I’m fairly certain they hadn’t done the math on that yet. As the night wound down around 1:00, they invited me to jump in an Uber and head to a rave at a club attached to one of Stockholm’s football stadiums.

I was hesitant. These two couples were clearly in a festive mood, and I had a sneaking suspicion their evening had intentions that extended well beyond dancing. But before I could politely decline, one of the guys looked at me and said, “You’re going to miss out on the best night of this trip.”

I paused. Part of me wanted to thank them for a lovely evening, wish them well, and head back to my hotel like a responsible adult. But another part of me, the part that left everything behind to move to Europe, the part that has never quite been able to resist the pull of what might be just around the corner, was already curious. I told him I always pushed myself to participate even when I wasn’t fully comfortable. He laughed and said, “That’s because you’re a homosexual suffering from FOMO. Deep down, you want to see what this rave is all about, don’t you?”

I laughed, and then it hit me. Did he just call me a homo with FOMO? He had a point. I have always been driven by this nagging feeling that something extraordinary is happening just around the corner and I’m not there for it. It’s less a fear and more a compass that has pointed me toward some of the best experiences of my life. If this was FOMO, then maybe FOMO wasn’t such a bad thing after all. And just like that, I was in the Uber with the cool kids off to rave.

Eric Northman, Is That You?

That’s the thing about FOMO, the Fear of Missing Out. It’s not just a millennial buzzword. It’s a legitimate psychological force that has been driving my decisions for most of my adult life. The fear that somewhere, just around the corner, something extraordinary is happening and I’m not there for it. It’s what keeps me saying yes when every sensible instinct says no. And on this particular night in Stockholm, I arrived at the rave, and found myself dancing next to Alexander Skarsgård.

Yes. That Alexander Skarsgård. Eric Northman from True Blood. The man I had harbored an entirely reasonable crush on since the early 2000s. There he was, tall as a Viking god, dancing completely alone on the floor as if he were just another impossibly beautiful Swede out for the night. And in Stockholm, that’s exactly what he was. Nobody seemed particularly bothered by his presence. No phones in his face, no crowd gathered around him, no security detail. Just Alexander and me, feeling like a giddy soon-to-be 56-year-old groupie.

We danced for about an hour, and I can tell you with complete certainty, the man is every bit what you see on TV. I didn’t take a photo because I didn’t want to be intrusive. So there’s no proof. Only a fuzzy memory after a very late night. But I was there. And Alexander Skarsgård was there. And that was enough.

Always Say Yes

So the next time someone tells me I’m I suffer from FOMO, I will take it as a compliment. Because without it, I’d have been safely tucked up in my hotel room that night with my dog Sofia next to me, completely unaware that Alexander Skarsgård was dancing alone in a Stockholm club, waiting for someone to join him. And that, my friends, would have been a genuine gay man’s tragedy.

As always, if there’s someone you think will benefit from my writings, please feel free to share my posting on your social accounts. If you’re interested in my last post, please click this link. You can also subscribe below, if you’re not already receiving my blogs in your email, and you’ll never miss an update.

Photos From My Journey