Onsdag morgen

Creamy pumpkin soup and delicate brill for dinner last night at cosy organic restaurant Cap Horn along the quay, where hardy souls - not all of them smokers - sat outside in the chill, wrapped in the rugs that were draped over the backs of the chairs. Along the edge of the water is a row of little kit-set huts being assembled for the Christmas market that begins next week, so we'll miss it unfortunately. They were busy yesterday slotting the huts together and stringing spruce garlands across the cobbles and around the windows, and fixing up the lights. It's going to be very pretty.

The waitress last night started speaking to us in Danish and then apologised sincerely when we looked nonplussed - as if it was unreasonable of her to have done that, here in Denmark and all. Of course, like everyone else we've spoken to, her English was perfect, even down to the regional accent, which was appealing. When I encounter a Dane speaking Brummy, I'll be enchanted.

This morning is dull and overcast, so I'm glad we did the canal tour yesterday even though we were rumpled and tired after our travel. For a moment there, we were thinking - madness! - that this was a holiday.