Danishhhhh! (You’ll want to keep Aarhus to yourself)

Photographs by Katrine Noer

Aarhus, Denmark’s second largest city, did that to me last summer, to us. I went with my husband. We both fell for it and pledged to keep this slightly edgy, design-forward historic port city on Jutland’s east coast under wraps. No sharing with friends once we got home. No “forget Copenhagen, Aarhus is way cooler,” we agreed.

Crushes have disappointment written through them, though, and our return visit started badly. A cancelled flight from the UK, losing a day, finally flying into Billund, an hour southwest of Aarhus, and arriving a full two and a half hours later because, when the car’s satnav had said turn around, about 20 minutes after leaving the airport, I said, “It doesn’t know what it’s talking about, just keep going.”

On the plus side, heading back to Billund meant I could revisit a question that had entertained us both on the flight over: is it OK for adults to go to a theme park without their children, who are now adults themselves?

Tourists don’t visit Billund, an industrial city, but around 1.6 million each year go to nearby Legoland. Its UK outpost is where we had our happiest family outings when our sons were little. My favourite ride is (ahem, was) Fairy Tale Brook. You bob along in a weeny brown plastic boat on a mini river 2in deep and Lego wolves roar at you as Little Red Riding Hood does her thing in her modular hood.

Two hours into the drive, a more pressing question presented itself: Would the restaurant we’d booked for dinner still be serving if and when we ever got to Aarhus?

When we finally pitched up at our hotel, the modern, budget Scandic Aarhus City, it was 9pm and I was Viking hangry. Happily, the hotel is bang in the city’s centre, Aarhus is small, and the receptionist gifted me a physical map. We legged it past the redbrick Romanesque cathedral (drop in, for a concert, or to find peace amidst the white vaulting) to the cobbled Latin Quarter. Ten minutes later, we were clinking glasses and guzzling warm, buttered bread rolls in the art-filled, white-tableclothed, quietly glam seafood brasserie Mefisto Restaurant & Gårdhave. Let the vacation begin.

The following morning, around 5am, the seagulls started up, their corkscrew cries conjuring crazed birds as big as small dogs in my disoriented mind. The flock had quietened down when we found them at the port after breakfast, scoping the quay like stevedores. The port, a five-minute walk from the cathedral, is Aarhus’s beating heart. It’s a working container port, the largest in Denmark, and the waterfront, called Aarhus Ø, is undergoing urban redevelopment. Angular newbuilds, civic and residential, jive with cranes and tankers.

One of these is DOKK1, a fabulous polygonal glass structure that squats over the mouth of the Aarhus river. Beneath it, there’s a four-storey automated underground car park; average retrieval time 64 seconds, retrieval contingent on you being able to work out how to deposit your car in the first place without taking you with it, only robots for company. It’s a feat we pulled off, but only after collaring two Danish humans near the ticket bay and appealing for help.

Above ground, DOKK1 is home to a public library. This one, Scandinavia’s largest, has exhibition, co-working and community spaces, an indoor playground and a giant brass gong because, why not? It’s also got a cool, low-key café, because we are in Denmark and cool, low-key cafés, taking time out and doing things together, are what Danes weave into the fabric of their lives.

Coastline, lakes, fjords, Denmark’s got plenty of all this, too, and yet Danes love an urban swim. The Harbour Bath, or Havnebadet, further along the 8.5km quay, is the world’s largest seawater pool. An aquatic playground, you can wakeboard, SUP, sail, swim. Its circular diving pool and network of boardwalks reminded me of the old Penguin Pool in London Zoo. Lucky penguins, I used to think, before learning that the spiral concrete ramps didn’t suit them.

One of the things I like so much about Denmark, as I am now discovering it, is the way public spaces and functional design encourage the pursuit of simple pleasures. The electric boats you can hire from GoBoat at Pier 2 feature a big wooden table in the middle, for drinks and snacks. What looks like a giant globe greenhouse in Aarhus City Park, also on Pier 2, is in fact a funky glass geodisic dome with a tree-house café, bar and cultural hub inside it. We sat down, had a cold drink, hung out, just because.

Danes also do a sleek museum shop. Aarhus’s ARoS Art Museum (aros.dk) is a one-stop Christmas shopping destination (I know it’s early, but you’ll thank me). The other good thing about ARoS is that Olafur Eliasson’s transparent circular walkway on the roof is a top navigational tool. Like the cathedral spire, you can see it pretty much wherever you are in Aarhus, which is a merciful thing, the visitors inside silhouetted against the colours of the rainbow. Also, ARoS’s new subterranean Salling Gallery opened in June, and will be followed by an even bigger space, the Dome, by light and space visionary James Turrell, in 2026. ARoS is flexing.

There's an altogether slower pace in Mols Bjerge National Park in Djursland north of Aarhus, where we trod a cobbled causeway to the ruins of 7--year-old Kalø castle. Further down the coast, in the Kystlandet region, we spent four days island-hopping, swimming, walking and eating one lovingly produced, locally sourced dish after another – no matter how tiny the island or unassuming the seaside town.

One morning, we took a small ferry from dinky Snaptun harbour, near Horsens, to the island of Hjarnø. After a short journey across Horsens Fjord, we started walking on the island’s one road, leading us to we didn’t know where. We passed a tiny white church. Inside, a kirkeskib, or model church ship, hung from the ceiling, in thanks for protection at sea. It’s the only one in the style of a Viking ship in Denmark.

Hjarnø has 108 residents. We found one of them, an artist called Jane Willumsgaard, making flat whites in her café, Det Grafiske Magasin (the Graphic Magazine, @detgrafiskemagasin). A couple sat at a table, doing lino cutting. There were three tables outside, beneath the trees. A man with a beard, a pipe and a book took coffee from a china cup and saucer. Inside, Willumsgaard told me how the watercolour artwork we were eyeing up, of an upside-down black poppy pod, was called It’s Not About Blooming. “Because,” she said, “it’s about seeding. That’s where growth starts. Process is important.” We bought the painting and, as instructed by Willumsgaard, walked back past Viking stones laid out in ship formation, or kalvestenene, on the shoreline.

That evening, we had a salt sauna and a steam in the terrific thermal spa at the Hotel Vejlefjord. The next morning, we ferry-hopped to Endelave. Dubbed Rabbit Island, it is home to 147 inhabitants and thousands of kaniner (wild rabbits), hence The Kanino, as its coastal path is dubbed. We cycled to a field for lunch, home to Café Heden, one of three eating spots on the island. Ponies munched away near the herb garden, guests sat beneath lilac parasols, we ate tortillas with purple potatoes and fresh horseradish mixed with soft onions. It was the day of Ozzy Osbourne’s death and Peter-Emil Madsen, the co-chef, was rocking out to Crazy Train in the kitchen. When the summer season ends, he’ll go back to being a private chef in Copenhagen. “So why Endelave?” I asked him. “Because I love it here. We cook seasonally, whatever we want, and we eat communally.”

As Madsen prepared a venison supper for the locals, we went next door to the tasteful gift shop, selling home knits, a favourite pastime throughout the islands.

“How on earth did you find this island?” the volunteer shopkeper asked. “Not even people from Copenhagen know about us.”

We’ll keep this one a secret, shall we?

Where to stay In Aarhus, the centrally located Villa Hotel Provence, a 39-bedroom French boutique hotel, is decorated with Provençal maximalism and peppered with retro French film posters and antiques. There’s a cobbled courtyard, too, but no restaurants. Elegant double rooms from £240 per night (villaprovence.dk).

Where to eat In Ebeltoft, Restaurant Støvlen occupies an 18th-century cobblers. Offering sharing and an à la carte menu, there’s always a catch of the day. Desserts include an apple cake of vanilla, chocolate and lime (restaurant-stoevlen.dk). In Aarhus, world cuisine is on offer at Aarhus Street Food.

Must visit Kongernes Jelling is home of the Viking kings in Jutland. This complex comprises the Kongernes Jelling museum and three Unesco sites: two Viking burial mounds built by King Gorm the Old and his son Harald Bluetooth, the church, and two runic stones (natmus.dk).

For further information, go to kystlandet.com, visitdenmark.com and visitaarhus.com