As you may all know, I had a wee accident with two sticks of fibreglass and a ski jacket a couple of months ago. So following a wee visit to see a smug doctor called Bjørnar who told me I was genetically incapable of skiing you'd think I would have learned my lesson and called it a day.
I didn't... now I am almost certainly going to hurt myself next season both physically and financially... unless I buy skis in Scotland on my next visit.
2 years... 24 months, 104 weeks or 730 days as a married man was celebrated at the beginning of this month by a jaunt to Copenhagen. I hate to say it but despite having an awesome glyptotek, stunning architecture, amazing views and some world shopping centres... my fondest memory of Copenhagen was... wait for it... the bicycles.
I know, I know, most keen motorists hate cyclists and to some extent with good reason. However, Copenhagen's organised and flowing bicycle lanes and traffic systems totally changed my view. They have proved it can be done, and with the all important sense of fun that
any daily task requires... I felt out of place walking. Also, not to be missed is restaurant Peder Oxe in Gråvbrødretorv... superb anniversary dinner.
Top Gear Live was predictable... and so it should be. Jeremy Clarkson promised us girls on fire, power sliding cars on fire and a set that was... erm, on fire. The highlight was when he spoke to the audience and managed to pick possibly the stupidest Norwegian countrywide. Clarkson asked a man if he liked the Maserati they brought out to which the reply was ' I drive a transit.' Deary...
Despite the spirit of Top Gear, I think next year we will fly down. The 1200km route involves a couple of mountains and as the next picture describes, there was a wee bit of snow.