In this solo episode of the How to Live in Denmark podcast, host Kay Xander Mellish walks listeners through the distinctive customs that mark New Year's Eve and New Year's Day in Denmark. He begins by explaining the Northern European week‑numbering system that starts the year with week 1, then describes the chaotic but beloved tradition of amateur fireworks, warning listeners to use safety gear. The episode details the Queen’s televised New Year’s speech—its planned format, occasional mishaps, and public reception—followed by the serving of kransekage, a marzipan wreath cake. Mellish notes the obligatory viewing of the 1940s British comedy skit “Dinner for One,” and the live countdown shown on Copenhagen’s City Hall clock, where some Danes jump from chairs at midnight. He advises caution with fireworks, then outlines the more subdued New Year’s Day: hangover recovery, the Prime Minister’s political speech, family walks, and a community cleanup effort led by Denmark’s oldest Muslim organization. Throughout, Mellish adds personal observations, humor, and links to transcripts, event booking, and books on the How to Live in Denmark website.
Chapters
Hello and welcome to the How to Live in Denmark podcast. I'm Kay Xander Mellish. It's almost week 1 in the weekly numbering system that's widely used in Northern Europe, where the year starts with week 1 and runs through to week 52 or 53, depending on the calendar. It's very efficient for planning, so you don't have to say something messy like, what about that week that starts with Monday, June 3rd? Week 1 starts on January 1st, and everything follows that in perfect order. But before January 1st, we have New Year's Eve, a day that fills me with trepidation, to be honest. Because in Denmark, New Year's Eve is all about amateur fireworks. Cannonballs, Roman candles, ding-dongs, triple extremes— these are what you can purchase to set off yourself in a local parking lot. Terrifying any nearby dogs and cats. Having a family member in the hospital business, I can't help but think that today, December 26th, there are a few amateur fireworks fans who have perfectly well-functioning eyes and fingers who won't have them on January 2nd. New Year's Eve, December 31st, is a de facto public holiday. Banks and many shops are closed. Danes are tired after their busy Christmas season and those few workdays before the end of the year spent frantically shoving money into their pension plan and other legal maneuvers to cut down on their income taxes— the Danish national sport. New Year's Eve celebrations start at 6 PM when the queen gives her annual speech live. To the uninitiated, This looks like a woman sitting at a desk reading from a pile of papers. She refuses to use a teleprompter, but it's all been intricately planned, from the clothes to the jewelry to the flowers to the text itself that reflects the themes and priorities of the year gone by. There's even a website that gives odds on what words and themes will appear. The Queen now keeps her piles of papers together with a paperclip. In past years, she left them loose, and on one particular occasion they got out of order, and on air she had to desperately search through them to find her place. The comedian Ulf Pilgaard, a large man who dressed up as a colorful burlesque imitation of the Queen, used to make this incident part of his act, throwing papers up in the air like Harpo Marx. Just as an aside, when this comedian who imitated the Queen retired last year, The queen herself showed up at his final performance and shook his hand. Having such a good sense of humor about herself is why the queen is so beloved, even by people who don't really like the monarchy. Some Danes even stand up to watch the queen's speech on TV. It always ends with "Gud bevare Danmark." God protect Denmark. After the speech, it's dinner time. Followed by a very sweet cake called kranske, which translates to wreath cake. It's made of a lot of rings delicately placed on top of each other in a little tower. There's a lot of marzipan involved in this cake. I am not a marzipan fan myself, but if you are, you'll like this cake. After the cake, the Danes begin drinking in earnest until shortly before midnight, when it is traditional to watch an old black-and-white comedy skit from the 1940s. It's called Dinner for One, or sometimes Same Procedure as Last Year. It is a slapstick skit in British English about an old lady dining alone and her butler, who pretends he's all sorts of different dinner guests. This short film is popular all over Northern Europe, but not all that popular in Britain itself. Anyway, it's about 20 minutes long, and it makes Danish people very happy, so I generally just go with it. Okay, now it's time for the countdown to the New Year. The national TV channels will play an image of the clock on City Hall Tower in Copenhagen. At this time, a few Danish traditionalists will get up on chairs or sofas so they can jump off into the New Year just as the clock strikes 12. Happy New Year! It's time to go outside and set off those amateur fireworks, which will make the entire country seem like a war zone until 2 or 3 in the morning. Do me a favor and wear safety glasses and safety gloves while you set off those rockets and Roman candles. It's dark. No one will see you. New Year's Day itself is slow in Denmark. People nurse their hangovers, watch the annual political speech by the prime minister, maybe take a family walk in nature. Meanwhile, outside Copenhagen City Hall, the fireworks and party residue are being cleaned up by a volunteer team from the country's oldest Muslim organization. I've always thought this is a really nice initiative. Muslims are the only people in Denmark Guaranteed not to have a hangover on New Year's Day. And that's the How to Live in Denmark podcast for this week. Remember, you can see all our podcast transcripts going back 10 years at howtoliveindenmark.com. You can also book me for an event for your group or organization at events.howtoliveindenmark.com. And you can see our books at books.howtoliveindenmark.com. See you next time.
