It is funny that your average Dane sees about half an hour of sunshine during the three months of deepest winner, and precious little in the three months either side. I mention this because the sun did come out on Thursday, and it was warm, and all Danes cast away their fur coats and winter woolies, pulled on their shots, t shirts and flip flops. I should also mention that most bars and restaurants have had chairs and tables out for many weeks in preparation for high 'summer'.
What it does mean that any Dane worth their salt will no long sit inside to eat or drink: I have no such qualms, and will take any table that I can eat and drink at. In the evening I went to Dronning Louise, and indeed all tables were full in the square, inside I had the choice of every table. So, I order a beer and a burger and sit down trying to make sense of the news on Danish TV.
After the excess of the night before, I avoided the Irish bar and headed back to my room and got an early night.
Friday.
And so, at last, I came to the end of my third week in a row away. Or, if you like, the seventh of the last eight weeks spent in Denmark. Don't get me wrong, I like Denmark, but I would like to spend more than 40 hours at home. So, I pack my case, go downstairs, check out and head for the breakfast bar. I nod to the usual faces and sit down to eat.
Once in the office, I found that most of the guys had failed to turn up, or those that did left at lunchtime. And here I was stuck in the country until just before six. I leave off at half one and drive to Billund. I honestly meant to avoid having a burger when I got there, and I was going to see what else what on the menu. But, my mouth said a large Carl's Special and a burger.
We boarded the plane on time, and soon were strapped it, waiting for the great getaway. It was the usual flight, coming into land approaching from the east, so I got the usual views of the Medway towns, the Dartford crossing and south east London.
Once on the ground, we got through immigration quite quickly, collected my bags and I got to Stratford by five past seven, in time to catch the early train back home. Meaning I was home an hour earlier than most weeks. It was a great relief to get off the train and walk over to the car with Jools waiting and head home for more than a couple of days.
Ladies and gentlemen, the weekend has arrived.
No comments:
Post a Comment