Forget the Vikings; For more remarkable Danish bling, go further back

I have seen a lot of magnificent cultural sights in previous trips to Copenhagen, but it was on this

third visit that I finally got around to what instantly became my favourite: The National Museum of Denmark's headquarters in Central Copenhagen. And it wasn't even for the reason I anticipated.

Most people instantly associate Denmark with Vikings. If you're off to the National Museum, you'd
be forgiven for anticipating a treasure hoard from that blockbuster age to delight your eyes. You'll get some. But it's what comes before that really bowls you over. This collection ... liberally studded with jaw-droppers, items inventively displayed, helpful guides in English as well as Danish ... demonstrates that life here was sophisticated, intriguing and at times remarkably beautiful for several thousand years before those famous marauders burst into our history books.

I wasn't entirely taken by surprise. Twice in recent years I've been to major exhibitions in London in which I found an object from pre-Viking Denmark to be amongst the most memorable. A 3,400-year-old sun chariot grabbed a lion's share of the attention at the Royal Academy's Bronze show in 2012 (I wrote about it here). A copy of the Gundestrup cauldron is one of the best bits of the British Museum's current Celts exhibit. (I owe you a blog entry on that one.) But they're both better here, set in a time frame, surrounded by companion objects and displayed in prominent, awe-inspiring isolation.

The cauldron (above) is beaten silver. It's so big you'd probably need another six inches on each side to wrap your arms around it, and deep enough that a three-year-old could easily use it for a bath. The exterior is dominated by enigmatic faces, the interior by action scenes with humans and animals. At the bottom, a three dimensional cow and several other animals recline, a bit like those comedy mugs that reveal frogs hiding at the bottom when you finish your tea. Having studied the copy at the British Museum just two weeks before, I was amazed at how much richer the detail on the original was. And rather than jockeying in a queue for a glimpse, I was alone to contemplate at my leisure. It's worth dropping by this museum (entry is free) if only to see this magnificent object. And it's unique ... the largest known example of Iron Age silver work.

But there's so much more.

You'll start back in the dawn of human history, and marvel at the decorations on the stone age axe heads. Three thousand years before the advent of anything we'd call "celtic", four thousand before the Vikings, five before anyone ever uttered the words "Scandinavian design", and here are the basic shapes and decorative forms. I can't remember ever seeing such a striking example of a culture's aesthetic principles stretching from foundations right through to the modern age.  Nearby there's an enormous display of amber turned up from Stone Age graves, displayed in a three-level glass cube to drive the abundance home.

On to the Danish equivalent of mummies: bodies inside their dugout canoe coffins, eerily well-preserved by the peat bogs in which they were laid to rest. In one room, cleverly, the museum has created an exact replica of the clothing on the girl now laid to rest here, down to the pleated mini-skirt. A hipster in modern Copenhagen could probably wear it today without comment.

The sun chariot dominates a room on Bronze Age religion, where you see that even though it's the most spectacular example, it's far from alone. Intricately worked gold sun discs in ceremonial settings were clearly a must-have item in 1400 bc. There are weapons and ornaments of spectacular beauty throughout the pre-historic ages, but things really start getting spectacular when you hit the Danes who were contemporaries of the Greeks and Romans ... an age that kicks off with that spectacular cauldron.

The Romans may have dismissed these people as barbarians, but it only takes a few galleries to convince you of their cultural sophistication. Another name is Celts, and their art has permeated our own age. Today, we associate the word with the Welsh, Irish or Scottish, but the term started as a generic description for Northern Europeans who were not part of the Roman empire. Amongst the treasures here, there's a reconstructed chariot, demonstrating how the original ornate metalwork would have adorned a vehicle of phenomenal bling. There's impressive golden jewellery, including distinctive torques and fierce warriors arm cuffs.  A floor-to-ceiling glass case encloses a collection of the spiralling horns called Lurs, suspended on clear wire at varying heights so that the installation itself becomes a work of art. The sinuously-curving, animal-infused designs throughout this section make it clear that we're on the brink of the Viking age.

A magnificent room filled with megalithic rune stones marks the divide. Then it's on to more galleries of treasures, from the domestic niceties of horse collars, storage chests and drinking horns to the darkly beautiful swords and axes that helped win the booty that bought all this lavish excess. The remnants of a small raiding ship sit in a dimly lit room.  across from an impressive collection of shields arranged in a defensive wall. They, like the lurs, hang on almost invisible wire, giving the impression that a ghost army has invaded the gallery in formation.

By the time Christianity appeared and put an end to the Viking era, I was exhausted. I'd just wandered through roughly 4,000 years of history, after all. The upper floor of the museum, picking up with the Middle Ages, will have to wait for another trip. Besides, I had shopping to do.

In addition to a fabulous collection, the National Museum has an excellent gift shop. At Christmas
time, it spills out into the building atrium with a seasonal emporium of festive items. I shopped my way through the city centre on Monday, specifically looking for holiday decorations, but nothing topped the assortment I found here. Good thing I decided to buy when I saw things, rather than waiting. I might not have come home with a sun chariot or a cauldron, but the straw goats, blown glass Viking drinking horns and paper cones for holding treats are going to add their own bit of Danish history to our mantlepiece. this Christmas.