The North Sea wind blows in our faces. A flock of young golden plovers flies over the dike in an elegant arc, tirelessly back and forth. They will spend the cold season in the south.

On their journeys between their breeding grounds and winter quarters, spoonbills, shelducks, and coastal terns also rest in the lagoon and on the beach meadows of Agger Tange.

We will spend a few cool summer days on the edge of this bird sanctuary. A lamp by Henningsen, chairs by Hans Wegner, and faucets by Arne Jacobsen make the simple cottage timelessly beautiful.

I try to understand why Denmark is one of the countries with the happiest population in the world.

The people here treat each other well. We repeatedly encounter people who are so obviously at peace with themselves and the world that the difference to our Berlin home, full of moralists, desperate perfectionists, and idealistic skeptics, could hardly be greater.

Hygge is the term that describes the way of life of these friendly descendants of Vikings in their barren land high up in the north: drinking tea comfortably on the terrace, cooking together, playing, reading aloud, and enjoying the simple things. I am not particularly talented at this.

But it is no coincidence that in a society that lives this way, cities, public spaces, and buildings are also designed in such a way that people can live together harmoniously in beautiful surroundings. Hygge is therefore not just a bourgeois marketing campaign, but the key to understanding a formula for success that has found the right mix of personal responsibility, good design, and care.

The Danes are among the world leaders in almost all areas: the standard of living is considerably higher than in Germany. Income distribution is also more equitable. At the same time, economic freedoms for entrepreneurs are great and government debt is low. It's actually too good to be true, like something out of an Andersen fairy tale.

But in return for their trust and high taxes, the Danes get economic dynamism, sensible governments, and functioning institutions. This has enabled the country to clear away many of the issues that have now piled up into seemingly insurmountable roadblocks in idealistic, dreamy Germany.

With the installation of wind turbines, the Danes have already begun dismantling their windmills. Today, they generate 90% of their electricity from renewable sources and supply two-thirds of households with district heating, mostly from sustainable sources. The mobility transition has also long been a reality. Here, most people believe that cycling makes people healthier. It's that simple when you started building bike paths after the first oil crisis in the 1970s.

Bureaucratic costs are regularly measured and reduced. Administration sees itself as a service for citizens and businesses. Processes are continuously simplified and streamlined, including through the reduction of regulations.

As is customary with administrative procedures, building applications are also submitted digitally.

Pragmatic municipalities with clear responsibilities and streamlined procedures enable quick approvals. Denmark's answer to rising rents in metropolitan areas is non-profit housing. These are managed through tenant democracy, with allocation via transparent waiting lists without means testing. 17% of Danes live this way. ?

Yes, Denmark is hardly bigger than Legoland, with a population so homogeneous that everyone today could still be descended from a single Viking clan. This can hardly be compared to the contradictory tangle of different living conditions in German cities and regions.

But the Danes seem to have understood that a thriving economy with creative and prosperous companies is the prerequisite for a fair and successful society.

The economy there has been booming for years and there is no self-inflicted construction crisis, as in Germany. It is hard to imagine that an incapacitated real estate industry, which for years has been unable to build the necessary housing, would be accepted in Denmark.

On our walks through the nature reserve, we repeatedly encounter friendly volunteers, mostly retirees, who keep their park tidy.

Our days in Agger-Tange fly by like the gray geese over Flade Sø.