Price check on register four...

What you soon realise when moving countries is how even the smallest expeditions you usually take for granted, turn into epic quests. Take, for instance, the supermarket. I now have four litres of different kinds of dairy boarding in the refrigerator. They were all meant to be milk… The first is a rather thick concoction, somewhere between yoghurt and milk, as are the other three. None go well with coffee in the morning; that I can safely tell you.

What I’ve since discovered is you should always, if it’s milk you want, go for either the dark blue or some kind of blue packaging. You then won’t be tempted to march back to said supermarket demanding a refund for ‘off’ milk. (No I didn’t but by the fourth trip, I was rather tempted).

Another aspect of hunting and gathering here is don’t wait for the cashier to pack for you. They don’t. I should have been paying attention but I was, actually, particularly jet-lagged and really didn’t mean to put anyone out by standing waiting and then asking for a bag, which I should have bought before paying for the groceries. There’s only so many times you can mumble ‘sorry’ in English while trying to placate a queue of 11 increasingly disgruntled Danes at the ‘it’s just after five and I want to get home with this bread/ice cream/Carlsberg’ looks on their faces.

That said, you really can push away your foreign guilt by scoffing what must be some of the world’s best ice cream by Vebbestrup. I certainly have…