Copenhagen for The Romantics: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Kierkegaard and Andersen lie a few paths apart under the limes, and the neighbourhood reads and picnics among them as if they were old friends.

Kierkegaard's childhood house stood at Nytorv 2 round the corner; sit in the pew-lined nave he brooded in, beneath Thorvaldsen's open-armed Christ.

Low rooms open since 1746 near the Russian legation that named it, roast pork with crackling and a schnapps nobody rushes.

Hammershøi's grey interiors and Købke's still Golden Age skies in a tobacco merchant's small, perfectly hung villa by the park.

Bindesbøll's ochre mausoleum-museum, the sculptor buried in the courtyard under his own marble gods; the painted ceilings are the reason to look up.

A candlelit room on the canal where the masts creak outside and the fish comes from the morning boats.

A romantic garden of canals and a Chinese pavilion below a yellow palace that is now a military academy, elephants visible through the fence.

The Rahbeks' literary salon where Oehlenschläger and the young Andersen read aloud, kept with its own garden and silence.

The one splurge: a starred dining room looking onto Kongens Nytorv, Danish produce cooked with French manners, and a sommelier who listens.

Walk the ramparts of the star fortress once the office crowd has gone in, past the windmill and the moat full of swans.

The naval church with the admirals' chapel, where Niels Juel and Tordenskjold lie among captured flags.

Smørrebrød since 1877, pickled herring and a cold snaps in a room that has seen a century of farewells.