I moved to Copenhagen in January 2006 with enough money to last a few months. I had no job prospects, no contacts, and knew nothing about the city. I can’t quite remember how I heard about the bar. Maybe it was mentioned in some article in the local English-speaking newspaper, or listed in a guidebook. The description was appealing either way.
I seem to recall not being able to find it the first few times I tried. Eventually I achieved the feat. I wandered in early one weekday afternoon and found a dark and scruffy cellar bar with one other patron – both had seen better days. Crucially, the other chap was watching cricket on the TV. I stayed for a few hours, had a couple of beers, made some small talk about the cricket. I returned often. Began to recognise faces and was recognised in turn. The best bars exert a particular force. You see something in them others don’t. But that’s fine because then they’re your own. Bloomsday was my own.
