Rudely awakened this morning by iPhone’s foghorn at 5.50am, actually, 4.50am as clocks went forward in tune with the British Summer Time, last night. And in case the digital radio gets it wrong, Nerdy Geek (NG) sets my iPhone to go off five minutes later, just to make sure. I had NO clue how to turn it off. The radio then comes on at 6am.. no, 5am.
He is lucky to be alive.
Taxi waiting outside 15 minutes early. Don’t cab drivers have a life? It’s the sunday morning of time change in UK. Silence in the cab while I iMessaged my world. Kids – telling them Mum was unavailable for emergency duties and not to even try coming home as the house had been set to maximum security. The plumber and the builder to confirm start of work next week and a few more urgent ‘messages de femmes’.
Heathrow was fairly busy, though travelling uber class has it’s advantages. The NG was forgiven. Fast track security and a decent lounge. A properly made espresso and unbruised yellow banana, angle curved to the perfection, boosted my energy level. A virgin copy of the Mail on Sunday was brought to me for humour purposes. Sadly missed Mimi Spencer as YOU magazine is never offered in Lounges nor on aircraft.
Casually walked to the gate and boarded, bypassing the enormous gate check queue. The flight was totally packed, judging by the hoards walking past. Must make a mental note – leave it to the end before making regal entrance – forgot that on little planes, everybody makes a right turn. I was in the window seat, 2F, with a very guilty empty “for comfort” seat next to me.
Announcement made to remind passengers that a hot meal was served in Business, a cold meal served in Economy Plus and Economy passengers were given the opportunity to purchase snacks from the menu card, if choice was still available. So much for Scandinavian Socialism. Overcooked steak with creamy mushroom risotto at 10.30am (9.30am to be more precise). My neighbour devoured his portion with a zealous mission. Guessing he was an oil [rig] guy – hunk showing off his muscular arms with bulging sinewy veins cutting through the tough steak, I watched with admiration. So did the stewardesses, and was served FIRST each time they came past. What happened to ladies first? Hopefully crumbs and possibly virulent bugs from under my tray gently dispersed like fairy dust on his piece of beast as the tray was passed to me!!! Retract that. It was not his fault being served first. Apologies!
Late lunch of Norwegian sweet prawns, fresh asparagus and, steamed and deep fried crumbed plaice with Danish remoulade. Washed down a perfectly chilled Alsace white at Nyhavn’s Barock.
A long walk after lunch, culminating in a quick shopping spree at Magasin du Nord, Copenhagen’s answer to Harvey Nichols on Kongens Nytorv. Licorice chocolate. Okay, liquorice syrup, raw liquorice powder and 5 strengths of liquorice jujubes in assorted sized jars. The new WOW invented by a 27 year old Johan Bülow of Lakrids and I was crazy enough to pick up the new Easter mixed chocolate coated liquorice, amongst the others.
Dinner at CafeQuote, a new style Dansk restaurant. Way to go. Three, four, five or six courses depending on volume of one’s tummy growls. Wines to match, if required, two levels, at fixed prices. The Danes are terribly civilised. This eating method does work for me at least and the locally sourced ethos is a great concept.
If ever in Copenhagen, here’s the list of my selected eating joints (not necessarily in that order):