Saturday 1st March 2025

Welcome to the weekend. Where it is still Denmark, and I am still here.

I switched to soda before the end of the meal, meaning I was well rested and not slightly hungover this morning.

The fog soon lifted and sun came out.

I lollygagged around, had a shower, then got dressed before going down to breakfast. I thought the hotel would be empty, but the restaurant was rammed, but room enough for one slightly hungry large bloke.

I had lost my recharge cable for the phone, so first task was to find a phone shop. I had tried yesterday evening, but turned off the main street mere yards before I would have reached one of them.

So out this morning, past the bus station and up the slight hill to the main street, turning down the hill, I walked on to find shops don't open until ten, some twenty minutes away.

Maybe the cathedral would be open.

It was, but for a service. I could maybe go back in an hour the guy suggested.

This was the first time I have found it open, so something of a disappointment.

But by then it was ten past, so shops open.

A very nice young man called Simon sold me a cable, and should I wander back or wait for the cathedral to open?

I walked back to the hotel, as there was no coffee or 2nd breakfast needed.

I lollygagged around until about half one or so, as I didn't need to be at my friend's until three when his beer and brewery supply shop closes.

I went to the basement, found the car and got in. I pressed the start button and nearly three hundred horses woke and roared.

I knew the way, so drove out of the garage, down to the main road, then along the waterfront until the tram line crosses, I take the same turning as it goes right by head office.

It was still a fine day, driving was a pleasure once I left the city limits and joined the motorway, as this far north there were no roadworks putting more lanes in.

I thought it was a half hour drive to the junction, but twas just 8km, so I prepared to turn off, and then I saw the sign indicating a filling station. It could mean a simple unmanned station, or an actual rest stop with shop and cafe.

Thankfully, it was the latter. So I parked, went in and found there did reheated burgers and other snacks, so I ordered a "snackburger" with beef and bacon. It cost 45DKK, which is fair enough.

I sat in the café to eat and drink the bottle of Coke, which whiled away half an hour, and with the twenty minute drive to his farm, I would be fashionably ten minutes early.

Indeed, as I turned into the yard, his last two customers were taking their purchases back to their cars. I, instead, came bearing gifts: tea bags and pork scratchings.

After hugs and greetings: "shall we have a beer?"

We shall.

We talked and supped. Not beer call amounts, just drinking on a warm spring afternoon kind of way.

Later, we retired to the kitchen, and Mark made a curry, and while it cooked, we snacked on olives and pork scratchings.

Wine with dinner. Of course.

And after packing away and cleaning up, Shags and myself went to the shop to watch the Brits on his huge TV, the sound was pumped through a PA.

We drank as we watched.

Its probably the first Brits Award show I have watched in over two, if no three decades.

Scantily clad ladies cavorted in frilly underwear on pretend beds, like Madonna hadn't done this 40 years ago.

And then the ceremony began. Jack Whitehall cracking flat jokes, and introducing guests and performers.

Not as bas as I feared, but some of the acts were amazingly middle of the road and soulful.

Sometime after midnight were gave up and headed to bed.