I did a double take when I saw this. Two McDonald’s flags — complete with the Golden Arches — were flying above a building with a McDonald’s restaurant inside. I had never seen the chain flying its own flags like that before.

As I walked through the city, this large building caught my attention. The entire side of it was covered in colorful signs and logos for international companies — Tuborg Beer was prominently displayed across the top, but there were many others below it, including Coca-Cola, British Airways, and several Danish businesses.

I remember standing there for a moment, looking up and wondering what this building actually was. It felt like the side of the building had been turned into one giant advertisement.

I continued walking through Copenhagen and eventually came to this large open plaza. It was a wide, open space paved with bricks, with a tall tower structure rising from the middle.

People were moving in different directions — some walking alone, others in pairs or small groups. The buildings surrounding the plaza had a mix of older architecture and large advertisements, including the familiar Tuborg sign in the distance. It felt like one of those central gathering spots in the city where everyday life flowed through.

This Burger King sign stood out to me as I walked down the busy pedestrian street. The familiar logo made me smile for a moment — it was something I recognized from home — but at the same time it felt like an intrusion. Here I was in Copenhagen, surrounded by Danish architecture and culture, and suddenly there was this big, bold American fast-food sign hanging overhead.

A McDonald’s was just a short distance further down the same street. It was strange to see two major American chains so close together in the middle of a European city.

As I kept walking through Copenhagen, I came across this Athlete’s Foot store. Another American brand had set up shop right in the middle of the city. The large signs above the entrance and the displays of running shoes and athletic gear made it stand out on the street.

It was becoming clear how many U.S. companies had already made their way to Denmark by 1994.

As I walked through the pedestrian streets, I came across these three street musicians performing on the cobblestones. I stopped and watched a moment, smiling at them as I took this picture before moving on.

One of the most culturally different things I noticed in Copenhagen was how many people rode bicycles — and how simple the bikes were. No fancy gears, no high-tech frames, just basic, practical transportation.

I spotted this convenience store, called ServiceKiosken, and was struck by the contrast between the plain brick building and all the colorful signs covering the front. Marlboro signs, lottery posters, and bright red-and-white stripes stood out against the dark brick.

An older man in a tan coat happened to walk past just as I took the photo, adding a nice human element to the scene.

What really blew my mind wasn’t just that so many people rode bikes — it was that almost no one locked them up. Here were dozens of bicycles left in this open rack, completely unattended, with no fear that they would be stolen.

Back home in Kearney, I always locked my bike, even for a short time. Seeing this level of trust was wild to me. It said something about the culture here that I found both surprising and impressive.

I spotted this brightly painted Volkswagen Beetle parked on the street. Someone had turned it into a rolling piece of art — the lower half was covered in colorful flowers, ladybugs, and grass against a red body.

It felt like seeing someone else’s version of fun, creativity, and a carefree spirit. I didn’t know who owned it, but I appreciated that they had taken the time to make something ordinary into something joyful and personal.

This harbor full of sailboats was a completely new sight for me. Coming from Nebraska, where the landscape is mostly filled with cornfields and cows, seeing hundreds of masts lined up against the sky felt very foreign — in a fun way.

This wide road ran right along the water, with a long row of trees separating the street from the sea. It was a calm, open scene that felt very different from what I was used to back home in Nebraska.

I liked how the trees created a natural boundary between the city and the water. The whole area had a quiet, spacious feeling that made me stop and take it in.

This was the entrance to the Tuborg Brewery. The giant green bottle sculpture and the branded truck made it impossible to miss. Tuborg was founded in 1873, about 25 years after Carlsberg. While Carlsberg positioned itself as the more traditional and premium Danish beer, Tuborg developed a reputation as the younger, more fun, and party-oriented brand.

Interestingly, the two breweries merged in 1970 and are now both owned by the Carlsberg Group, though they still maintain separate brand identities and compete against each other in many markets.

I liked the symmetry of these kegs lined up and stacked so neatly, waiting to be filled. There was something satisfying about the order and repetition — rows upon rows of identical silver barrels sitting quietly in the sunlight.

It felt like a behind-the-scenes moment at the brewery, where everything was prepared and ready.

This was too good not to photograph. Massive stacks of green Tuborg crates were piled high in the brewery yard. I took this picture specifically for my Dome Crew brothers back home — I knew they would get a real kick out of seeing this much beer in one place.

This was the main production floor at the Tuborg brewery. The space was massive and filled with complex machinery, conveyor systems, pipes, and automated equipment stretching in every direction. In the distance, a few workers in blue shirts moved among the machines, tending to the process.

This was our guide at the Tuborg brewery. I thought he had one of the best jobs imaginable — he got to share his knowledge and passion for Tuborg with visitors every day, and then sit down with the tour groups afterward to enjoy a few beers together.

He looked completely relaxed and in his element here, which made perfect sense. I remember thinking that if I ever had to have a “real job,” this one wouldn’t be too bad at all.

The tasting portion of the tour was only 15 minutes long. That was more than enough time for me to drink six bottles — one of each variety they offered.

I was determined to make the most of it. By the end of the session, I had a nice collection of empty bottles in front of me and a good buzz going. It was the perfect way to end the tour.

The tasting session was only 15 minutes long, so I moved quickly. By the time it was over, I had drunk six different Tuborg beers — one of each kind they had.

I wasn’t about to let a single minute (or bottle) go to waste.