One of the things that will remain with me when I leave Vikingland for pastures old and loved is the memory of compulsory outdoor lunches and preprandial drinks sessions dictated by the first marginally optimistic weather forecasts of Spring. ”16 grad. Dejligt. Det er så hyggeligt!”’ They’ll happen throughout the country next week – after I leave. Perhaps, in some cases, because I have left! The participants will be pale, cold and prevented by tradition from escaping inside to a warm fire.
Ever since the world’s media started to report hygge a few years ago, the natives here have allowed their inbred hygge to acquire disproportionate importance in their lives. And now they want UNESCO to recognise it as an ‘intangible’ treasure alongside the Mediterranean Diet and Turkish Coffee.
Back home I shall retaliate post haste with Afternoon Tea and the Village Cricket Match experience. Now that’s what I call hygge.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Militant Hygge, innit? I will travel to Copenhagen via Stockholm next week. It’s off to Denmark to help plan a Japanese holiday with the Viking. It seems that the timing is perfect. Vis-a-vis your post, ha roligt!
There are some places similar in the UK. I know of a hotel in Pembroke, right opposite the castle, where they have a back courtyard surrounded by 15th century walls, part of the original city walls, which is an incredible suntrap. Immediately it stops raining it appears to attract locals for lunch. They don’t advertise it so it is free of grockles! Typically Welsh! Keep the bastards out.
But Christina, you have now told several “grockles” – I presume I count as one – where this delightful hotel is. So it may well be overrun with us.
Naah, don’t think you’re a grockle, no kiss me quick hat!