We went to Denmark
And it was full of wasps.
On Tuesday the Horse Doctor and I went to Copenhagen. This wasn't a sudden whim. Well, in a way I suppose it was. Only it was sudden several weeks ago. Since then we'd been planning. I even bought a guide book, but foolishly left it in Wales. It didn't matter; the Danes are well used to forgetful tourists turning up unprepared, and provide all sorts of things to do. And wasps.
Things didn't start too well. The hotel was further from the city centre than advertised, and when we reached our room high in the roof space, it was particularly small. Also, it had been made up for just one person, with one pillow on the scarcely double bed, and one set of towels in the shower room. This was booked through Expedia and had been given four stars. that rating will probably go down once I've added my vote.
Complaining was difficult since there seemed to be only two hard-pressed girls running the entire establishment. I wanted to be moved to a bigger room, but in the end we had to settle for them going up with another set of towels and remaking the bed. They promised this would be done whilst we went out and looked for something to eat.
It's always difficult when you've just arrived in a completely new city to know where to go for the basics. The first restaurant we tried was booked out completely, or so the waiter said as he stood in front of a room empty of people but full of tables. It having been a long day, we went straight to the next place, which was Italian. The meal was nice, quickly served and tasty. But when I came to pay with my credit card, the waiter claimed there was a four percent surcharge which he was obliged to pass on to the customer. Four percent isn't a whole hill of beans, so I said OK, and even gave him a modest tip. Every other restaurant we visited after that I used my credit card, and not one of them added a surcharge. Cheeky sod.
Back at the Hotel, the hard-pressed girls had been good to their word. Our room was now a small double room as opposed to a small single. I noticed on the window that that there was a sticker which read 'emergency exit' in several different languages.
This was intriguing, as there was no obvious fire escape, nor even a rolled up safety ladder in a box beneath the window. Looking out didn't inspire me with confidence either.
Hoping there wouldn't be a fire, we went back down to the hotel bar and had a glass of Carlsberg dark, a fine, malty ale style of beer most suited to settling the stomach before bed. The Horse Doctor decided that she wanted to see Viking Ships, and so we planned on the morrow to head to Roskilde, where they are to be found.
And the wasps? Well you'll just have to read tomorrow's instalment to find out about them.
On Tuesday the Horse Doctor and I went to Copenhagen. This wasn't a sudden whim. Well, in a way I suppose it was. Only it was sudden several weeks ago. Since then we'd been planning. I even bought a guide book, but foolishly left it in Wales. It didn't matter; the Danes are well used to forgetful tourists turning up unprepared, and provide all sorts of things to do. And wasps.
Things didn't start too well. The hotel was further from the city centre than advertised, and when we reached our room high in the roof space, it was particularly small. Also, it had been made up for just one person, with one pillow on the scarcely double bed, and one set of towels in the shower room. This was booked through Expedia and had been given four stars. that rating will probably go down once I've added my vote.
Complaining was difficult since there seemed to be only two hard-pressed girls running the entire establishment. I wanted to be moved to a bigger room, but in the end we had to settle for them going up with another set of towels and remaking the bed. They promised this would be done whilst we went out and looked for something to eat.
It's always difficult when you've just arrived in a completely new city to know where to go for the basics. The first restaurant we tried was booked out completely, or so the waiter said as he stood in front of a room empty of people but full of tables. It having been a long day, we went straight to the next place, which was Italian. The meal was nice, quickly served and tasty. But when I came to pay with my credit card, the waiter claimed there was a four percent surcharge which he was obliged to pass on to the customer. Four percent isn't a whole hill of beans, so I said OK, and even gave him a modest tip. Every other restaurant we visited after that I used my credit card, and not one of them added a surcharge. Cheeky sod.
Back at the Hotel, the hard-pressed girls had been good to their word. Our room was now a small double room as opposed to a small single. I noticed on the window that that there was a sticker which read 'emergency exit' in several different languages.
This was intriguing, as there was no obvious fire escape, nor even a rolled up safety ladder in a box beneath the window. Looking out didn't inspire me with confidence either.
Hoping there wouldn't be a fire, we went back down to the hotel bar and had a glass of Carlsberg dark, a fine, malty ale style of beer most suited to settling the stomach before bed. The Horse Doctor decided that she wanted to see Viking Ships, and so we planned on the morrow to head to Roskilde, where they are to be found.
And the wasps? Well you'll just have to read tomorrow's instalment to find out about them.
Comments
Do you think, the more we travel, the fussier we get? Or is it age? Or are we being perfectly reasonable? I suppose all could be true...