As doubly wonderful as Copenhagen is -- Amalienborg, bikes, Christiansborg, Danish pastries, etc. -- one of the top tourist tips for culture vultures (like what we are) is found 25 miles up the coastline. Buy a combo ticket, says the Time Out guidebook, to cover both the train fare and entrance fee. Here we are, on a surprisingly sunny Sunday, strolling along Humlebaek Strandvej in search of some modern art.

Situated in an unassuming suburb, the Lousiana Museum is a marvel. Before we do the giftshop, best we survey some paintings 'n' stuff. First up for us is New Nordic, showcasing some cutting edge Scandinavian architecture. Glossy photos, clear text, and lots of intricately detailed scale models of schools, embassies and any number of visitor centres. Makes this part of the world look mighty attractive.

Priorities being what they are, it's off to the cafe for an pricy open sandwich. Which is when you discover that you can happily sit inside, most pleasant, or take your food to an outside table (or on the grass) and admire the sea views. That, over there, past the huge bronze sculpture, is Sweden. Score one over the Tate.

Next up is Self Portrait, over 100 works of artists depicting themselves. Yes, Mr Warhol, and yes-yes, Mr Munch, yet some of the stand-out pieces are by arguably smaller names such as the tragic Felix Nussbaum with his ID card, or Marc Quinn's head made out of frozen blood -- ugh -- or the giant photos from Chuck Close. Cleverly, the curators have also assembled same-size framed photos of all the contributors in a separate room, next to the worrying diving board by Elmgreen and Dragset.

Elsewhere there are Giacomettis galore, video clips, pottery, and a troubling installation down in the basement, complete with warning signs. After going down there, it's good to get out in the garden and feel the wind on your face.

We came away around 5pm, up to here with culture, and took an equally efficient train ride back to Copenhagen Central. Even their public transport works like a dream, darn 'em.