In this CBC report about downtown Charlottetown parking there was mention that the developer of the proposed new downtown hotel, Homburg (emphasis mine):

…wants a new parking garage, built either next to the Charlottetown Hotel or on land behind the Queen Street Parkade. City council rejected that idea this week.

Here’s the area in question:

Without tearing down at least three buildings, those housing Cedar’s, Royal Tandoor, Monsoon and Back Alley Records, as far as I can see there is no “land behind the Queen Street Parkade” on which a new parking garage could be built, other than the thin strip that’s currently used to dump the existing garage’s snow.

Am I missing something here?

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It seems that, Copenhagen-wise, I am spending these two weeks in the neighbourhood known as Nordvest — “Northwest” to you and me. Technically the district is known as Bispebjerg, and to get here from downtown you simply head, well, north-west, through inner-Nørrebro and outer-Nørrebro, right to the edge of the city proper.

You know when you’re watching Relocation, Relocation and the young couples looking to move up the property ladder talk about wanting to find a flat in a trendy central area “near all the shops, restaurants and bars.” This is not that area.

Which is not a complaint.

Having stayed on the cusp of Frederiksberg my first year here, in the heart of Frederiksberg my second year, and right downtown by Tivoli the third year, I’ve done the “near all the shops, restaurants and bars” scene and was ready for the “workaday residential neighbourhood.”

Which is not to say that I’m living in the country. Walk 20 minutes to the south-east and there’s good shawarma, good coffee, and and all the grocery stores, electronics depots and flower shops you might ever want.

My apartment is on Teglbrændervej, in the heart of an area full of 3- or 4-story older apartment blocks. Each block is about 200m long, and between each one is a combination parking area, garden and playground.

The apartment itself is a “0 bedroom” one: it’s got a large livingroom/bedroom, a tiny but large-enough kitchen, and the smallest possible bathroom you can imagine (it double as a shower when your unfurl a curtain around its edges). It’s the perfect-sized space for one. Which is what I am.

Tonight I headed out the door around 8:00 p.m. and decided to head away from the obvious eating choices. I stopped the first guy I met on the street and asked him to point me in the direction of the area with all the shops, restaurants and bars. He pointed me in the other direction, but did mention a place just around the corner that might suit me. He thought it was called Treblinka, that it looked a little rough on the outside, but that it was very good.

I decided to tour the neighbourhood before going to eat at a restaurant called Treblinka, and walked along to Frederiksborgvej, where I found a couple of pizza shops, an Indian café, and a sushi place that was just closing when I walked in the door.

I decided to throw caution to the wind, and headed back to where I’d started. Which is where I found a restaurant called not Treblinka but rather Tribeca NV.

This turned out to be a place otherwise almost exactly as described: a little rough on the outside, but excellent food on the inside. The restaurant described itself (machine translated) as one that:

…combines the mood of the pleasant Roman-Italian trattoria with the raw and fashionable atmosphere that is first and foremost know from the streets of New York

Which is a pretty good description. Their kitchen doesn’t close until 10:00 p.m.; I showed up at 9:00 p.m. just as most guests were on their desserts. I choose a table outside in the courtyard — a little chilly, but I’d been walking around, overdressed, in the heat all day.

I lucked into a very helpful waiter who insisted on translating and describing every item on the menu for me. I settled on a vegetarian paté plate (olives, fresh cheese, peppers, zucchini, giant capers) to start and the “Grilled salmon marinated in mint, chili with risotto” as a main course. I was not disappointed: each was very tasty, and the salmon was melt-in-your-mouth flaky and piping hot.

My server seemed somewhat perplexed that I’d wandered in off the street — apparently this isn’t something that English-speaking tourists do every day.

Which is one of the reasons, of course, that I’ve headed to the Nordvest.

Had lunch at Boys Shawarma og Isbar, a restaurant choosen for lunch completely based on typography. Excellent chicken shawarma. Nørrebrogade 216 in Copenhagen.

As anyone with children can attest, the presence of “bubbles” in a drink can have a dramatic effect on uptake. Which is why I appreciate the clear labelling on this can of Guava juice from Maaza:

The prices in the photo are in DKK; converted to Canadian Dollars, 11.67 DKK is about $2.50 per litre.

It’s 3:30 a.m. back home, 8:30 a.m. where I’m going, and 6:30 a.m. where I’m at. Iceland truly is a waystation en route to to Europe — the same role the Moon will play when we go to Mars.

From Submersible Design in New York, the Urine to Fertilzer DIY Kit:

We all think of human pee as gross and something that ought to be vigorously “cleaned up” or sanitized. However, human urine is actually sterile (unlike faeces, urine is bacteria-free). This liquid by product of our daily lives can be a rich food source if it gets into the RIGHT part of the right ecosystem. Now, most human urine travels untreated into the waterways and is a significant cause of eutrophication, a toxic condition caused by harmful algae blooms, in the oceans. The excess Nitrogen and Phosphorus in our urine overfeeds algae (like Red Tide) and effectively suffocates fish. However, a pioneering biological waste treament process being used in Switzerland can extract this phosphorus & nitrogen for use as a fertilizer, leaving the rest of urine almost harmless to aquatic life. This kit gives users the opportunity to replicate the new technique at home and fertilize their plants with their own pee.

Pointer from the Icelandair in-flight magazine Atlantica.

You may remember that Clarkie Innis died in March, leading to the gradual closure of the Hambly & Innis clothing store he ran for many years. After a succession of sales over the past few months (during which Catherine was able to secure an entire 1920s wardrobe for Oliver), they’ve finally closed the doors for good: