So. Copenhagen. Design week in a design capital. Nice. Supernice, as the kids used to say last year and the thirtysomethings have just picked up. Look at a map of the world and it’s tough to see Denmark and Copenhagen doesn’t even register. Nevertheless, this Nordic capital has muscled its way into the global consciousness. In this consumer-oriented world design has grown into a commodity and Copenhagen has elbowed its way into the front row of the class photo. Architecture, too, has increased our googleability, what with exciting new buildings popping up – and brilliant structures tossed out with the pizza boxes because narrow-minded ‘traditionalists’ can’t see higher than five stories.

Design and architecture. Trademarks for a modern capital that has, almost, rediscovered itself. The problem is that 99% of visitors to the city don’t read Monocle, Wallpaper or The Sunday Times. They are here to see ’stuff’. Recognizable stuff that they’ve heard about. Touristy stuff. Old stuff. Famous stuff.

Every city in Europe has old stuff. But what’s there to see in Copenhagen for visitors? Tourists are all the same. Upon visiting new cities we instinctively look upwards, seeking out the grand monuments that define the place. Here in the Danish capital, the iconic – and quite ridiculous – Little Mermaid statue has caused generations of visitors to utter the same four words: ”But she’s so small!”

But there it is. The key to understanding Copenhagen. The mermaid isn’t small, you see. She’s life-size. Much like the city that she calls home.

If it’s monuments people are after in Copenhagen, they shouldn’t look up. All they need to do is to look all around them. Outside the train station. Their hotel. A metro station. It’s right there at street level. Copenhagen’s greatest monument is motion. It is a massive, constant, rythmic and life-sized legacy.

This never-ending flow of Copenhageners on bicycles is a symphony of human-powered goodness. In the 1960’s, this city was almost just as car-clogged as anywhere else. Visionary decisions were made and the result can be seen all around. There are few places in the world where the morning rush hour is graced with such poetic motion.

So where are the cheap and cheesy trinkets in every souvenir shop that celebrate this most noble of monuments? There’s a world-famous website, sure, but instead of paying for Chinese mermaids glued rudely onto rocks that aren’t even native to Denmark, why aren’t we selling bicycle keychains or mini cargo bikes that play Wonderful Copenhagen when you roll them along the table?

The bicycle is hot all around the world. Cities and towns are itching to figure out how the hell they can accomodate bicycle infrastructure. Copenhagen’s vast network of safe, separated bicycle lanes are a beacon of urban-planning hope in a post-fossil fuel world. Traffic planning has never… ever… been this sexy. When I show up in foreign cities to speak about bicycle culture, bicycle lanes, bicycle infrastructure, whatever… the audience listens in rapture. It’s quite odd, really, but it gets me free beers.

Bicycle lanes and all that… it’s design, sure. It’s a kind of horizontal architecture. It’s a symphony of motion. The world is beating a path to our bicycle culture. Wishing to transplant what we take for granted into their sad, congested urban centres. Some cities will succeed, others will fail. But the world is gearing up for Bicycle Culture 2.0 and we’ve written the programming code.

We have demystified the most efficient machine ever invented and the bicycle, if you think about it, is everything Danish Design aspires to. Simple, practical, elegant, efficient. The design is virtually unchanged in 130 years. Damn… we didn’t invent it but by god we excel in using it.

And that is monumental. Monumental motion.

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