Well, it's 05:45 and we've just got back to Bristol. I drove from Stansted Airport to try to let Chris get some sleep, and managed to get done for speeding within the first five minutes! The sun's rising now, and it's not worth me going to bed as I have to drive Chris to work in an hour so that he can collect a rental car and drive back down to London to fly out to Turkey for a meeting.

Remarkably, we managed to get around 70 kg, including my bike, onto the Ryanair flight without having to pay any excess charges at all. I'd thrown out anything that I could when I was packing, including my lifetime's collection of Wired magasines. We had carry on bags that were well pushing it, 5kg of books in our jacket pockets and the bike was so well disguised that they didn't even realise it was one and so didn't hit me with the bike charge.

Ironically, Denmark turned out to be everything I least expected it to be this weekend. The skies were clear and sunny, not cold and grey. We went out on Saturday night and Copenhagen was warm and civilised, rather than aggressive and rowdy. I held a door open for someone and, unbelievably, they thanked me. I walked through the park, which was full of ducks and geese, people jogging and cycling, and watched the sun as it went down. After all the times I'd complained about Denmark, I packed my stuff, but I didn't want to leave. I sat on the airport coach as it drove out of Copenhagen and thought of all the pointless, stupid things you end up arguing about in a relationship, and realised that not one of them had ever mattered.