As the flying carpet-themed thrill ride climbed ever higher, I couldn’t help but admire the panorama, even as my fear of heights began to bubble up. Beneath me was as lovely of an urban site I’ve witnessed: the trees below lit with spaghetti strands of soft light sparkling off a lake, blossoms of color resembling terrestrial bursts of finale fireworks in flower. Across the way, a Moorish palace, Chinese pagodas, heart-shaped red lanterns beside a Christmas tree, and a gorgeous dusting of Nordic snow. And just over the park’s wall, the gem-like city of Copenhagen spanned in each direction.

I’ve often wondered what it was about this city that’s caused it to be perennially ranked among the happiest places on earth. Clearly an amusement park right in the heart of the city doesn’t hurt. Even Tivoli Garden’s provenance is delightful: It is the world’s second-oldest amusement park, commissioned by the royal family to be a pleasure garden for the masses. Now that’s what I call leadership.

In our current era of demagoguery, shrinking social covenant, and active attempts to dismantle social welfare programs, it’s nice to know there’s always Denmark. Perhaps the serenest place I’ve ever visited, where a functioning brand of European socialism leaves time for parenting, leisurely cappuccinos, and occasional visits to the city’s many cultural offerings, as well as, of course, Tivoli Gardens. Life here appears to move at the pace of a fine stroll through the park.

In addition to a roller coaster in the center of town, one also quickly notices the beautifully preserved architecture, much of it Belle Epoch. Although occupied by the Nazis during World War II, the city never suffered the mass destruction that so many other European cities endured (although the Hanseatic city of Lubeck did raid the city in 1249, perhaps in search of almond paste). All of Copenhagen’s buildings, many dating back hundreds of years, are still fully intact, leaving a visitor with the feeling of walking in a snow globe. The Danish even have a word for it: hygge, roughly “coziness’’ and pronounced “hoo-ga,’’ as in sitting by the fire and sharing a plate of pickled herring and beer with a good friend.

When the modern does creep in, it’s in the form of a well-functioning metro system, architecturally adventurous public buildings, and endless storefronts (as well as hotel lobbies and restaurants) displaying perennially chic Danish mid-century furniture.

Copenhagen is one of the lower key capitals of Europe. There’s no rush of tourists, and few if any must-sees of the bucket list variety. There’s no flashy Eiffel Tower or Arc de Triumph, no bustling theater district equivalent to London’s West End, no overwhelming history like Rome or even Berlin for that matter.

But it’s a city one quickly feels at ease in. It’s clean (the harbor is even swimmable), easily navigated, and perfectly accessible on foot and bike. It’s also helpful that most people speak English with the confidence of a native speaker.

Although there are indeed few must-sees, there’s still plenty to do. If you’re into Danish design — who isn’t? — then the Designmuseum Danmark will probably be near the top of your list. All the iconic stuff is there: Arne Jacobsen’s Egg Chair and Ant Chair, Poul Henningsen’s PH-lamps, and all the tables and headboards and sidetables of a childhood lived in the 1960s and 1970s. There’s even a permanent exhibit on just chairs.

Back outside, on Stroget, the main shopping street, the world’s longest dedicated to pedestrians, one finds more quintessential Danish design, such as a Bang & Olufsen store filled with its trademark-sleek stereos, televisions, and other electronics. Stroget is also where you will find the Rundetarn, or Round Tower, where you can ascend to the top via a spiral ramp for a panoramic view of the city. Hungry from the climb? The city boasts 18 Michelin stars.

One of the most beautiful neighborhoods is based around the city’s grandest square, Kongens Nytorv. It’s currently under renovation as the city expands its metro system, which should be completed later this year. Here you will find the D’Angleterre, the city’s more storied hotel, as well some cool nearby pubs. My favorite was Bo-Bi, a bohemian dive bar with a decidedly local feel. If it’s grand architecture you want, then the Marmorkirken, or Marble Church, is just down the street. It’s colossal dome, modeled on St. Peter’s in Rome, inspires awe. Around the corner, you’ll find excellent tea and a perfect scone at Mormors. Further to the city’s north, is the royal Rosenborg Slot, where one can ogle the Danish crown jewels kept in the castle’s cellars. Although in the land of Hamlet, it did strike me as a bit unavoidably Freudian.

With its brightly painted historical townhouses along a slip of water filled with mostly vintage yachts, Nyhavn, or New Harbor, is the most photographed part of town. Once upon a time Hans Christian Andersen lived here. It’s hard to beat relaxing at an outdoor table with a coffee or beer and taking in scenery. And it’s a far better way to commune with the author best known for his fairy tales than visiting Copenhagen’s lamest yet most famous sight: the bronze Little Mermaid statue, which sits along the harbor. Hard to believe, but the statue is the reason some tourists visit Copenhagen, and it’s the one place tourist buses clog the streets.

Me? I’d rather stroll through Tivoli Garden’s delights, drinking glogg in the Christmas season, or sunbathing in one of the harbor’s summer swim parks, chilling out, marveling at this Scandinavian city’s gemlike qualities, and taking deep breaths as the world seemingly slows down to the speed of hygge.

Andrew Blechman can be reached at andrewblechman@mac.com.