Nothing to see here. Just, you know, more of the usual.

Europe has so many small, charming towns. You know, river, hill, castle, winding cobbled streets, market square, cosy coffee shops, grand buildings, battered and busy trams, history, churches... Bratislava's just another. And that's exactly why it's worth visiting, of course. Such a delight! Even on a perishing cold day with rain that really feels as though it should be sleet.

The afternoon tour was for that reason a bit of an ordeal, as the day and I got colder and colder - but after a return to the ship for some more layers (six, on the top half, and two on the bottom) everything got better. It helped that the wind dropped, but also as it got darker the lights shone more brightly, and then the locals finished work and came out to play. Near the Opera House, they were ice-skating, and in the main square the tables in the centre filled up with people enjoying mulled wine and punch, standing laughing and chatting. Families wandered the stalls, the children as entranced as I was by the colourful displays of crafts, Christmas decorations, live sheep and goats in the nativity scene, and food.

As for that, well, it was all about potatoes, it seemed. First there was a big, deep fried hash brown, hot and crispy. Then one of those irresistible spiral-cut spuds on a stick that are essentially one long potato chip. Then, for pudding, a potato pancake rolled up with chocolate inside - hot and messy, but much more chocolate than potato. There were also baked potatoes, sautéed potatoes, potato crepes...

Our guide had told us all about the history, invasions, politics, literature, music of the city, but it was the recommended chocolate shop that stuck in my mind, so I escaped from the cold and dark into its warmth to have one. Once I'd sorted my fogged-up glasses and peeled off the layers, the hat, the gloves, and got comfortable, I must say I was a bit disconcerted. Hot chocolate here is nothing like at home. For a start, it's barely liquid. It does come in a cup, but it's really melted chocolate, as easy to drink as lava for temperature and viscosity. And so rich!

Really, the mulled wine afterwards was just practical, to unstick my tongue from my teeth.

The day finished with two local musicians in the ship lounge performing some remarkably athletic music on a variety of instruments that included a stick. Well, ok, a tube, but with no other holes - it was amazing how tuneful it was. Those Aboriginals need to up their game.

Another day, three other countries

Breakfast in Hungary, lunch in Slovakia, dinner in Poland: what it is to be a globetrotter! Though in fact it was only a day's not very intensive driving in our comfortable Insight coach through pretty green hills and farmland with little villages of coloured houses with steeply-pitched roofs, and churches with tall spires of various shapes. There were people tending neat gardens, some crop hung to dry on triangular racks, a stork wading through long grass, a deer watching something, lots of clear mountain streams and proper mountains with snow on them.

There were also clusters of horrible Soviet-era apartment blocks, now painted brightly but still eyesores ("though stylish inside!" insisted Karin, who grew up in one), ugly factories belching smoke and smells out into the clean air, electricity sub-stations all cables and transformers, car-yards under tents of plastic banners, and lots of Tesco supermarkets. But mainly it was lovely, the apple and plum trees blossoming white and pink, the woodlands pleasantly mixed deciduous and conifer, scatterings of goats and sheep, random singly-tethered cows chewing their cud, and always the appealing traditional houses, three or four storeys, or just one in sturdy wood.

The southern part of Poland we came in to was especially attractive - and the roads were excellent! And now we're in Krakow, which has not only swans on the wide bend of the river below the towers of the Old Town's cathedral, but an actual salt mine to explore tomorrow. Now there's a thing.