We had an afternoon flight home which allowed us one final morning in Copenhagen. We decided to have breakfast at the small restaurant across the street, having enjoyed it so much the day before. They seemed to have eggs on hand that day as we didn't see anyone dash across the street to procure them as we had on our previous visit. We chatted with the proprietor. On our first visit he had apologized for the cool weather. After we informed him that it was no different than what we would be experiencing at home at that time of year, mid to upper 60's, he explained that he thought the entire U.S. had the climate of California. On several occasions we found that some Europeans don't have a concept of how vast the U.S. is. Several expressed surprise upon learning the the population of the Chicago metropolitan area exceeds that of the entire country of Denmark. The charming proprietor told us that he lived in 250 year old army barracks which, when built, were considered to be outside the city. He mentioned to me that he was planning a 1 month road trip to the U.S. with his family and if I had any "must see" suggestions. I was somewhat at a loss, the U.S. does, after all, take up a third of a continent, except to say that unless you are crazy about agriculture the states of Nebraska, Kansas, et. al. could probably be skipped. There is the surreal, rugged beauty of many portions of the Southwest, The history of the south and the east coast, and, of course, my beloved Chicago. He realized he would have to research and plan more thoroughly.
Being only a block from the palace there were a number of embassies in the area. Across the street from our hotel, visible from our room's window, was the Swedish consulate. We felt this was fitting since our trip began in Stockholm. In a row around the corner were the embassies of Venezuela, Portugal, The Netherlands and Ukraine.
The fountains across from the palace courtyard were turned up full that last morning, tall plumes of water shot up into the cool air. After waiting for the bus tour groups to move on we took photos before continuing to the courtyard for one last visit before returning to the hotel and leaving for the airport. As we walked across the courtyard one of the guards, in his tall fur hat, shouted sharply something in Danish and struck the butt of his rifle smartly against the stone sidewalk. A pair of black sedans with tinted windows rolled across the venerable stones, one disappearing into a recess in the Prince's palace, the other stopping just outside it. Was it the Prince? Perhaps the Queen herself? Or just the nanny escorting the royal children back from soccer practice or returning home after a trip to a Danish Walmart.