2003-09-04 - 4:25 p.m.

So I sailed to Denmark. By which I mean, �lolled around in the deluxe commodore lounge drinking cocktails whilst the peasants queued up for the all you can eat buffet like seafaring bovine�. It was quite swish, though sadly didn�t involve getting the use of a white peaked captain�s hat, which I�m going to suggest to their sales team. Then you could pretend to be Gopher from The Love Boat. The great thing about being drunk on a boat (you are banned from using the word �ferry�) is that when you start swaying / falling over, you can blame it on the tidal bumpiness. Sadly you can�t use the same excuse for drunkenly losing your cabin key and having to be let into your room three times in one night, but there you have it. It felt a bit like being on the Titanic, but with the added bonus of not having to paint a nude Kate Winslet, so I quite enjoyed it.

We arrived the next day as fresh as a daisy that had been out all night the previous night and taken a shower in cheap sparkling wine, to be whisked around sunny d(enmark) at light speed. We went to a club on the first night and it was like going to somewhere where every model you�ve ever known hangs out � I almost tried to hang my jacket on some guy�s left cheekbone � so naturally we didn�t stand out at ALL, no way, not in the slightest. It was a total Aryan fest, too, and even the light haired girls in our group looked brunette in comparison to the locals, as if they were auditioning for a new film, Meagrely Blonde.

The next day we went to a historic town and learned that the Vikings never wore horns on their helmets and that they were traders and not fighters. If I were the Danish tourist board, I would not be spreading those facts around � people want to see pillaging and scary warriors, not smooth-helmeted travelling shopkeepers. The gift shop was far less exciting than it could have been if they�d have embraced horny historical inaccuracy.

There was fjords, herring, beer, galleries, monkfish, a chair museum, castles, more ferries and, on the last day, Legoland! Legoland is ace up to a point as everything is made of Lego, but then your expectations get so high that you find yourself getting disappointed when things AREN�T made of Lego � the grass, birds, other customers, etc. We went on a ride that is one of those robots that paints cars in factories except with a chair attached and you program the moves yourself. There are three levels of speed � vague swaying, vomit possibility and massive internal bleeding. Of course, we went for the top level and after being thrown around upside down for three minutes, only narrowly avoided seeing our Lego french fries again.

We sailed back yesterday in much the same manner, except this time found the champagne stores, and got disapproving looks from our fellow lounge members for discussing Scandinavian midget p*rn. It�s the only way to travel.