Grab a Coffee and Meet Me At the Graveyard

I arrived for my study abroad semester in Denmark with the mindset that I should make the most of my experience. Less than an hour after I dropped off my luggage at my homestay, I ventured down the street in my new neighborhood. I casually walked into a big, beautiful park with tall trees lining the path, welcoming curious visitors. I spent the warm August afternoon observing cyclists whizzing by, mothers with their babies in strollers, and little kids racing through my walking path.

Tree entrance at Assistens Kirkegård. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

Some folks were on the grass having a picnic; it seemed like a little boy was having a birthday celebration in the park. How wholesome! I would love to have a picnic here too, considering how peaceful, quiet, and relaxing the atmosphere is—surrounded by the sounds of nature and 200-year-old tombstones.

Yes, you read that correctly. Tombstones.

Coffee and Danish pastry, overlooking the famous tombstone of Danish singer Natasja Saad. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

Cemetery or Park?

One of the first places I visited during my semester in Copenhagen was not only a beautiful park, but also a graveyard. Located in the heart of Nørrebro, this multipurpose space—Assistens Kirkegård—is both a cemetery and a park.

While the cemetery still serves its original purpose as a burial ground, it has evolved into a recreational space. For some locals, this is the area where they jog five kilometers every morning; for others, it is a place to meditate. For the busy bikers, this is the scenic street that they whizz down on their way to work in the city; and for the guides facilitating cemetery tours, this space is a source of income.

For me, Assistens Kirkegård has been a place to wind down and do some homework whilst having a cup of coffee, overlooking a tombstone. I had become so used to labeling everything and clinging to those labels, but the multipurpose use of this area illustrated to me how people adapt public spaces to fit their own community needs and how our impressions of space affect the ways that we use it. 

Recreational walks at Assistens Kirkegård. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

After frequently visiting this hybrid space, I began to easily distinguish tourists from locals. Tourists, cameras in hand, seemed eager to seek out the grave of Hans Christian Andersen. Locals treated the space like any other park; some zoomed past on their bikes, while others enjoyed a coffee or chatted with friends amongst the graves.

Landscapes from Assistens Kirkegård. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

A Unique Blend of Function and Culture

What I thought would literally be a walk in the park served as an introduction to unconventional hybrid spaces in Copenhagen. This cemetery reflects something profound about Danish culture—a seamless blend of the practical and the reflective, of life and death. Though Denmark has a state religion, the Evangelical Lutheran Church, many Danes identify as secular or atheist. As a result, cemeteries here don’t necessarily feel sacred in the same religious sense as those in other cultures. In Macedonia, where I grew up, the division between Christian and Muslim cemeteries is distinct, and they are strictly seen as solemn places of mourning.

Graveyard in my hometown in Macedonia. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

The Danish impression of the relationship between life and death is evident in Assistens Kirkegård. You’ll see families sunbathing beside tombstones or children running and laughing on the cemetery grounds. It’s a peaceful coexistence of different purposes within a public space. The juxtaposition of life and death in such close proximity felt jarring yet peaceful.

Prominence and Profit

Assistens Kirkegård is not just any cemetery—this is the cemetery to see in Copenhagen. It's easy to miss groups of eager tourists with cameras around their necks, but they are a constant reminder to the local community of the cemetery’s historical relevance and its role in the tourism industry. Locals are happy to see tourists in their park and very eager to direct them to the Hans Christian Andersen grave.

Hans Christian Anderson tombstone. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

This cemetery is the final resting place of some of Denmark’s most prominent figures, including Søren Kierkegaard, Hans Christian Andersen, and Niels Bohr. Signs directing lost visitors to see famous graves are omnipresent in the infrastructure of the cemetery. Many of the monuments are listed as cultural heritage sites, further adding to the cemetery’s allure as both a tourist destination and a local hangout.

Tombstone at Assistens Kirkegård. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

Built by History, Evolved with the People

Research into the history of Assistens Kirkegård shows the origins are rooted in practicality. Built in the late 18th century due to overcrowding in city cemeteries, its purpose was clear: to create a space for burial. However, over time the site evolved into a public park–a shift driven by people’s usage of the area. Even legislation couldn’t keep the cemetery strictly somber. Early efforts to prohibit food, drink, and music were largely ignored. Today, you are more likely to see people sipping coffee and eating pastries than mourning the dead.

This evolution speaks to a larger truth: spaces are shaped as much by the people who use them as by the intention of their original design. What was once a solemn cemetery is now a hybrid space that serves the community dually as a place of quiet reflection and as a recreational outlet.

Infrastructure for cyclists at Assistens Kirkegård. (Photo: Nela Chestojanova)

Hybrid Spaces

When I first mentioned to friends that I was spending afternoons at a cemetery, their reactions were predictable. "Why would you do that?", they asked. In many cultures, cemeteries are seen as solemn places, visited only out of necessity—for funerals or to pay respects. This hybrid space blurs the line between the living and the dead, offering comfort to everyone who visits, whether they are there to mourn, to relax, or to explore Danish history.

Two months after my first day at Assistens Kirkegård, I realized how my perception of the place had shifted in my mind over the time period. After frequently visiting, the cemetery went from a scenic, Instagram-worthy park to a “favorites” pin on Google Maps that I shared with eager peers who also wanted to visit. Now I understand that, like many other public spaces, Assistens Kirkegård has been significantly shaped by people’s interpretation and use of the area.

Spaces like Assistens Kirkegård remind us that it’s the people who define the meaning and purpose of a place. It’s a cemetery, yes, but also a park—a place of rest for the deceased and of comfort for the living. In this vibrant part of Nørrebro, surrounded by the city’s rush and the hum of daily life, this hybrid space stands as a reminder that life continues, even in the presence of death.