By David Webb The Rare Reporter
COPENHAGEN — Through the window I saw what I assumed to be a tough-looking hooker in a white sundress standing on the crowded sidewalk in the city’s historic touristic district. Her attention seemed to be focused on something in the street in front of my stalled taxi cab where my traveling partner and I impatiently sat watching the meter tick off the time.
Anxious to get to my hotel so I could relax for an evening before boarding the Emerald Princess the next day for a Baltic Sea cruise, I asked the taxi driver about the delay. ” It’s a parade.” he said, just about the same time I noticed a rainbow flag banner in the distance.
I couldn’t believe it. I had arrived in Copenhagen not only at the exact time of the city’s annual Pride parade, but I had inadvertently become a part of it. I wasn’t staring at a hooker, but instead a drag queen. My taxi cab literally had pulled into the parade’s line-up from a side street as we crawled toward the Imperial Hotel.