Brand Scandi spotting – an occasional series (no.2)

Following on from Brand Scandi – an occasional series (part 1).

I find it interesting to spot products clearly stylised around the Scandinavian/Nordic “brand”.

Here is a Nordic-themed stationery range at Paperchase (spotted September 2015). It seems to be borrowing heavily from Philip Pullman’s Northern Lights. The main consistent image seems to be bears – there are bear-printed gloves, plates, hot water bottle covers, etc. Bears aren’t so common in Denmark so I think in this case ‘Nordic’ refers to the far, far North (hints of Sami/Lapland in some of the patterns, perhaps?), maybe even Greenland. Lots of references to the outdoors too with the leaf patterns and subheading “into the wild”. Notice it’s called Nordic Nights – a nod to Nordic Noir and related dark imagery no doubt.


I’m keen on looking at the history of people’s perception of Denmark and Danishness in the UK. Commodities and their perceived high quality – think bacon and butter – are regularly occurring positive ‘memes’. Here is Lidl imitating Lurpak, for example:


In doing so, Lidl is using the positive associations consumers have with Lurpak to sell its own product. I particularly like the name “Danpak” – a blatant appropriation of the Danish butter brand which actually alludes to its Danishness even more than the original brand’s name. Lidl sells all over Europe, so it seems Denmark’s good reputation for butter stretches farther than just with British consumers.

I’ll keep an eye out for more Scandi style stuff!

24 Weeks and a Positive Mindset

Throughout the PhD process there are various significant time markers: the end of first month, a few months in talking about your first proper written work in a supervision meeting, the Upgrade, attending and presenting at your first conference, and the end of the 3 full years’ of funding will be one too – gulp! When I started, my daughter (‘the baby’ of this blog’s title) was just under a year old. She is now approaching 3 (latterly renamed ‘the toddler’!).

The big reveal...

The big reveal…

I am pregnant. 24 weeks – over halfway to baby 2! My life has been temporarily overwhelmed by nausea accompanied by occasional puking from week 6 to week 19. Three months. This has been less than fun. And, of course, exhausting. It has really hampered my own (perceived?) progress with my work, too. But some positives about what I have achieved while feeling so physically crap…

While I’ve been pregnant, I have been to Denmark twice (once for a research trip as described in my last post, and once to observe part of the inaugural literary translators’ summer school). In August I presented at a conference in Sweden on Nordic Literature – my first international conference.


I have also presented at a university departmental research day, attended literary translation workshops and related events on a single day at the British Library, taught a university ‘widening participation’ session for year 8 school pupils on translation and Danish culture, attended supervision meetings with both supervisors having also prepared written work in advance, met with other students to chat studies and plans, done even more corpus research (I keep dipping in and finding more books!), and written a full draft chapter to be submitted for a conference publication this Autumn. This week I’m participating in a conference on small nation literatures in Bristol.

While I’ve been pregnant, we have successfully toilet trained the toddler (actually, she needed very little ‘training’, thankfully!), discussed plans for Tooting Baby with its founder/owner (I’m the web admin keeping content up-to-date), stayed with my parents in my hometown for a couple of weeks, planned birthday parties for me and my daughter in the Autumn, planned maternity leave dates and related antenatal and postnatal minutiae, and met with friends and kept up with general life stuff while trying to fit in sleep, puking, and PhD-ing!


I’m out of the worst of the fug of early pregnancy now, resulting in renewed energy and motivation – whoop! – but unfortunately the scary realisation that I only have three months left before maternity leave and a To Do list expanding with my bump!

How I obtained some great data after creating a lot more work for myself

I have been very lax at updating this year. I would apologise, but I’m essentially writing this blog for myself, so I’ve only myself to be disappointed by. Anyway, on with the rest…

After my Upgrade, I started planning how to embark on some actual tailored original research. I planned I would need a research trip to Denmark to visit the national State Archives to see what I could uncover there about the decisions made by a key state agency – the Danish Arts Foundation – around the grants offered for translators (and perhaps authors). I discussed my plans with a contact at the Arts Foundation who suggested I meet with some of the key decision-makers themselves and interview them about their work. What an opportunity! The meetings were scheduled for the end of April. But then came the paperwork, and this dull but nonetheless important facet of the project is what I’m documenting here. NB for any newcomers: This is all obviously applicable in the UK (where my research is based and therefore where my ethics approval requirements had to be met) but data protection, copyright law, etc differ slightly around the world.


Copenhagen in late April – my ‘commute’

My university – as all universities, I imagine – requires Ethics Approval for any research involving human participants. This could mean submitting a full ethics application for something as seemingly simple as a face-to-face survey of students on campus, or even perhaps any (non-anonymous) online questionnaires, as well as all the obvious scenarios that come to mind involving medical trials or sociological experiments.

So now I intended that my research would involve interviewing in person, one-on-one (or in fact one-on-many in one case). I intended to record the interviews using a digital audio recorder. Potentially a straightforward case, but I still had to complete and submit the ethics application form correctly and gain official approval from the chair of the university’s research ethics committee before embarking on any interviews. My ethics application form had to be approved and signed by my lead supervisor and Head of Department. My lead supervisor also had to use the university’s system to undergo a risk assessment. As part of the application I had to ensure I had appropriate information sheets and consent forms for the interviewees, and this was the part that took the most research to get right, but ultimately ensured I understood why the ethics application was an important part of the process. Incidentally, as you can imagine, this process took much longer than I initially anticipated, probably a few weeks or so piecing everything together!

Interesting aspects I had to work out:

Data protection

Data protection is to protect individual’s privacy; their right to a private life. That’s the privacy of the person being interviewed, but also of anyone else being discussed. To start off, I had to register my project with the university’s Data Protection Officer (an online process) and assure them that my audio files would be backed up to the university’s secure servers as soon as practical, and deleted from recording devices asap. It’s crap data protection if any ol’ person can find and listen to the raw recordings.

My plan was to interview people about their job role in their workplace, which on the surface should not present any data protection issues – after all, information about their job title etc is in the public domain, and we would not need to discuss personal or confidential matters. On the consent forms, I covered myself with the following statement, which demonstrates the reading up and subsequent thought process I had to go through when considering data protection (however in hindsight, it probably should have been slightly extended to explicitly cover ‘any personal data about you or anybody else‘):

Data will be held about the your name, job title, professional contact details, and the place and time of the interview. Interviews will be about the your work and therefore no personal data will be intentionally recorded, for instance I will not request information about your age, ethnicity, sexuality, and personal contact details. If any such personal data is inadvertently discussed during the interview, I will ensure it remains confidential by omitting it from the final report, unless I gain express permission from you to submit the full unedited transcript in my final report.

In the event, there was only one very minor occasion during the five interviews where I will have to adhere to this statement, and it makes for an interesting demonstration of why this stuff is important. In idle conversation towards the end of the meeting, the interviewer and I were chatting about {a person} and how we established that {the person} had probably lived in {a country} for a while on the basis that {the person} had had {a child or children} in {that country}. This part of the interview I will simply omit from the eventual transcript as it is not directly relevant for my research nor is it appropriate to to include such personal information when that person was not in the room to consent to this information being shared. Of course, this is only the kind of personal information that would naturally be shared all the time in conversation between two colleagues (e.g. me and the interviewee), but things get complicated once it’s recorded, and it’s not okay to reproduce this kind of conjecture about someone’s personal or family life, even if you think that the subject of discussion probably wouldn’t mind one jot! In addition, the more I think about this issue, I (and others, I’m sure) have concluded that it’s better to simply redact anything that might be considered personal information as it is risky, not to mention unfair to those involved, to break data protection protocol. Heck, even my heavily redacted statement up there makes me nervous as it is borderline identifiable in my opinion – it is near impossible to ensure anonymity in the very small field in which I am studying!


Again, a line on my consent forms does the talking here:

Copyright of the audio recording and eventual written transcript is jointly held between the interviewer and interviewee. In this case the researcher kindly requests that the interviewee agrees to transfer copyright to the researcher in order that the recording and transcript can be used for other related purposes, for instance academic journal articles or conference presentations. You can request to be consulted on every occasion this material is used outside the remit of this PhD research project, and the researcher will endeavour to do this.

Copyright is an important consideration as a researcher. I plan to transcribe most of the interviews for my PhD thesis, so I could have just gained consent to use the material for this purpose alone. But perhaps I’d also like to submit them in whole or part as part of journal articles or even book chapters. I don’t actually know yet, but I do know that if I hadn’t got express permission – a transfer of copyright, no less – from the interviewee at the time of interview, it would have been a hell of a lot more complicated to use the material in any other form in a year or so’s time. Maybe I’d even have to contact them again back-and-forth for some sort of permission, which looks less than professional and risks them overthinking it and withdrawing consent. My last line was to cover this kind of hesitation or reluctance (of which there was none, but you never can tell beforehand); no one has opted to be kept informed so far.


Gaining consent in practice

I presented the information sheets and consent forms to interviewees at the start of our meeting. The participants kept the information sheet and one copy of the consent form for themselves; I have a signed and dated copy of the consent form from every person I recorded. None of the participants sat and read through both sheets word-for-word, but all had a skimread and broadly understood the purpose of the consent form – I explained it was necessary because I was recording the interview. Everyone was speaking to me in a professional capacity and they had already received information via email about the purpose and scope of the meeting, so really it wasn’t necessary for them to read all the information in depth as they consented by agreeing to attend the meeting, and as conversation got warmed up we always got round to discussing my research project and the purpose of this specific research trip anyway. I’m not trying to deflect accusations that ‘no one reads these things anyway before signing’ (because they did albeit briefly!), but it is just to reflect that it was a necessary formality that did not stilt the conversation – in fact, it provided a useful opener for me to discuss what was about to happen and make switching on the recording device a little less awkward – and it provided me with paperwork that ensures I can use the data in a different form in future, beyond the boundaries of my thesis.

Not me, but another Nelle living a parallel life in Odense

Not me, but another Nelle living a parallel life in Odense…

Pram-free freedom

I’ve had a few whole weeks recently during which I didn’t use a buggy at all. Not even for long trips. Such is the freedom of having a 2-and-a-half year old toddler instead of a baby (and being physically able to lift/carry her if needs be).


Admittedly, this means things take a little longer than usual, as she walks at her toddler pace – unless I can convince her of how fun it would be to run instead – but the slower wander is counter-balanced by the wonderful real sense of freedom of travel. We can hop on any bus we choose, rather than wait for one with space for a buggy (often the wheelchair space is already full, which to most London bus drivers means occupied by two buggies or a wheelchair, though the latter is much rarer). In particular this has made our commute to our childcare setting much less stressful. We can take any route on the tube or train, not worrying about huge flights of stairs and constantly thinking about step-free access. We do however ideally need public transport door-to-door, for instance I’d choose a longer bus ride over a shorter train ride if it meant we didn’t have to walk very far at either end (as I said: walking is slow going, and she’ll often end up asking me to carry her). We had a nice journey one Sunday sitting at the front of the top deck of the bus all the way from Tooting to Waterloo. Lots of fun for her, much less stressful for me.


She has been walking for a long time, but part of the reason for taking a buggy for longer trips – especially into central London – used to be that she absolutely needed to nap somewhere. Now it is less crucial – I can either wait until we get home in the afternoon, or risk pushing through until bedtime… she has always been a nap resistor anyway! It is a bittersweet freedom, as it puts me off every having a baby again! Though perhaps I would be more inclined to use a good sling for as long as possible (which we didn’t have until a good few months into her existence – Baby Bjorn carriers should be burned!).

One of the things I hated most about commuting with the buggy is the feeling of taking up ‘too much’ space. Especially if she had a strop and wanted to get out of the buggy, so we’d end up with an empty buggy taking up precious space on the bus while she sat on my lap or – worse – sat next to me, rather than being in the buggy with me standing up next to her. I don’t think I am being precious by suggesting this is a feminist issue. I hate taking up too much space in public, as a woman, as a mother, with my child. My (male) partner takes the attitude that a small child is entitled to take up a seat on the bus. (They can’t stand up safely anyway!) It genuinely doesn’t occur to him to feel the ‘too much space’ guilt. Pregnancy kicked off or perhaps compounded this sense of wishing to have as little impact in public as possible – I often needed a seat on the bus or tube as I was physically uncomfortable, yet I felt guilty for my massive presence as I claimed a seat for myself.

Why taking my baby to a conference is different now

My “baby” is now nearly 2 and a half. Gulp. That is probably the main reason taking my “baby” to a conference is different now (so you can stop reading here if you like). In fact, I didn’t really take her along to the conference as such at all!

At Edinburgh station - travelling light!

At Edinburgh station – travelling light!

I attended a Nordic conference for research students and postgrads in Edinburgh in February. As I’ve said before, we don’t use a typical full-time nursery, so initially the plan was for me to travel and attend the conference alone while my partner took annual leave from work to take care of the toddler at home in London. But then a good friend with a little baby (3 months old!) decided she’d attend the conference as well as a delegate – inspired no doubt by my success when I attended a conference in another city with our (exclusively from-the-breast-fed) 4.5 month old! The conference in Edinburgh coincided with the holiday available to her husband, so the plan was for him to take the baby while she attended sessions. Our friends have more flexibility with their baby as they are mixed feeding (definition for non-parents: bottles of formula alongside breastfeeding) which meant the mum-delegate was able to attend the conference in longer stretches away from her baby.

Why taking my toddler to this conference was so different from my previous experience taking a little baby:

  • The journey was FUN! Well, fun might be overstating it, but the 4 and half hour train ride either side was pleasant enough. The four/six of us chatted and read and looked out at the view. We had snacks. We had toys. Two things stick in my mind about driving to the conference with a baby in 2013: 1) stopping and feeding in a dreary service station car park and worrying whether I was doing the right thing by going at all; and 2) missing the motorway junction for Norwich which meant a rather convoluted route to get back on track, which made us all stressy.


  • I barely saw her! So in a way, I did attend the conference on my own. I attended all the sessions I wanted to. I could freely chat to people in the coffee breaks and at lunch. I tried to get the most out of the event for the benefit of my studies – that had to be the point of us spending time there. My partner and our friends got to see Edinburgh and pop to a museum, whereas I didn’t go out beyond the remit of the organised seminars and conference dinner. This time I wasn’t known by all as the person with the baby. I’d spent every break at the first conference breastfeeding ostentatiously(!) so – whether I liked it or not – I was soon identified as the delegate with a little baby. It was admittedly a good icebreaker and made me rather memorable, but this time being a speaker on the first panel with a slightly unusual format of presentation was the icebreaker, and I much preferred that!


  • I felt more like me! Four and a bit months into first-time parenthood is not me. I was shell-shocked, sleep deprived, hadn’t had an academic conversation for months, let alone attended seminars or even read a book. I was still adjusting and – in hindsight – so far off feeling like myself. Sixteen months into a PhD is me. I felt happy with my presentation (very glad I went on first and got it out of the way!) and I was keen to talk to people and learn. I got to chat about research and meet new people and not constantly wave a baby in people’s faces. (I’m not sure I even got much better sleep though this time round as we stayed in dead central Edinburgh and I was only blessed with earplugs for our last night away!)

My two experiences of taking a child to a conference have been very different, mostly for practical reasons relating to her age and related needs. Given my experience this time, despite it being very positive, I probably wouldn’t drag my partner and child along to a conference again, even (or especially) in an exciting new place, because I’d get so little time to enjoy the visit with them! We spent the most time together on the journey and in the evenings. By extension, because I was with them (and our lovely friends, to be fair), I didn’t arrange to meet anyone else I know who lives in or near Edinburgh as there wasn’t a minute to spare. And I missed out on visiting a few places I probably would have gone to if I’d been kicking around on my own with time to fill. But I still attended a fantastic, welcoming conference and had a great trip as a little family with some good friends.


At the end of January I had my Upgrade and I passed! The Upgrade is a formal (yet informal) review meeting held around 12-18 months into the PhD process. It’s the only external review of my work until the very end after I’ve submitted the whole thesis when there is a viva with an external examiner. (It’s called an Upgrade as technically students enrol for an MPhil before being ‘upgraded’ to PhD student status after this meeting)

The Upgrade meeting included one of my supervisors (my secondary supervisor on paper, though actually they have both had a pretty equal role so far), an academic from another department to lead the discussion, and an academic to oversee the meeting (though in the event he also participated). So, three people talking about my research plans and work so far. Potentially a bit intense.

Everything I was told beforehand was true: most of the preparation was in writing the upgrade portfolio of work itself (submitted just before Christmas) so there was very little I could do in advance of the meeting except be familiar with what I’d written. The meeting was friendly and natural, and I received insight from new perspectives and useful things to mull over. In fact, it’s such a privilege, two academics from different yet related fields, reading my words and giving me some positive feedback and new ideas. Everyone I spoke to told me this would be the case, but until you actually get through it, there are still some nerves – after all, it’s the great unknown! I googled for top tips for getting through the Upgrade but in the event, the pointers from websites and friends were absolutely right – relax and be ready to talk about your research, you’ve already done the preparation.

Now the hard bit is keeping up the momentum and not letting it be too much of an anticlimax! I’ve passed, now I actually have to do some of that work I said I’d be doing…

Social networking and new motherhood

I’d like to take a moment to talk about the fantastic ability of women – and it is women – to network and support one another through a time of massive change as life gets busier and more pressured.

My partner and I moved from North London to Tooting when I was 7 months’ pregnant. It was an odd time to start getting to know a new area – I waddled around in the September sunshine with no indication of how much my map of the world was about to change. I had no idea that I’d want or need local mum friends, I was oblivious to how much support you crave when tirelessly looking after a little child.

When I had a little newborn, my world got smaller for a while. I went for a walk with the pram around the streets nearby, maybe for a couple of miles, but never too far to get back home comfortably. The occasional trip further afield was a mission requiring expert planning. For the sake of getting away from my own four walls, I explored many an accessible local cafe to sip coffee (often decaf as I was still unduly worried about how much caffeine was transferred through breastmilk!), but feeding in public alone still felt like the stuff of nightmares.


Meeting new people on very little sleep seemed like a bad idea, so for a while I stuck with my own company and met up with (child-unencumbered) friends from my Life Before Baby. Those friends who met up with me during that period are still extra special to me.


At the time of moving down, I found a local Twitter account called @tootingbaby – perfect for our new baby-related adventure in SW17! I soon discovered @tootingbaby has a website with a calendar of local playgroups and events for babies and toddlers, and a private Facebook group. After dipping my toe, the best thing for me about Twitter during all the sitting around breastfeeding (day and night, night and day) was being able to gradually follow more and more local people and businesses. I began to feel like I was getting to know this new area all from the comfort of my bed at 3am! A few local restaurants opened around the same time of our move down (late 2012) so it was great to see their online and physical presence develop – I felt like I was part of the community straight away by being up to speed on what was going on outside.


I joined the aforementioned Facebook group and before long regular weekly meet-ups were being arranged for mums on maternity leave with babies born in Autumn/Winter 2012. We met and ate cake and made small talk with heavy eyelids about how little sleep we were getting and how feeding was going (breast or not) and who we were before this all kicked off. It became a lovely, loose-knit group of women who initially only had in common the area we lived in, our new role as mothers, and our keen use of a social network! Now, coming up to two years on since joining the Facebook group, I count the local mothers I see most often as some of my closest friends.

After all my exploring – and grateful for the support it had offered me – I offered a Google map of baby-friendly local cafes to the Tooting Baby website. This had the unintended consequence of being asked ever so kindly to be an administrator for the website, as @tootingbaby now had her hands full with two babies and a demanding job! I started in Autumn 2013 – at the same time as starting my PhD. It feels like a hobby in comparison with everything else, and I really enjoy being able to contribute to the community like that.

It grates when people dismiss Twitter and Facebook as narcissistic shouting into the ether – sure, it can be that for some people, but networking on social media gave me a massive sense of community in a new area as a first time mother, and it has directly provided me with the opportunity to make new friends and get support for our new family.

Am I still a new mum?

I am still learning how to do parenting. I don’t know when you ever start or stop, nor how you know if you’re actually following a ‘parenting approach’ or just winging it, badly or well. My only limited experience with children is with my own, and her peers. Now – at 26 months old – she is entering the terrible twos (a phrase which I hate, but I suppose it’s a shorthand most people understand), and I feel like I should be educating myself using best practice manuals and solid research. But it’s incredibly hard to change your behaviour and parenting based on all the clever ‘how to do it right’ stuff you read, as if you don’t just react on instinct at lightning speed in the moment that your child is tipping milk all over the table/throwing bricks hard at you/trying to throw herself out of the pram on a busy pavement, as if you don’t know outside that heated moment that saying no or shouting or making bribes or threats (‘stop that or you don’t get this’) isn’t great parenting, but how do you stop yourself?


They sound like such small insignificant things written down. Almost every day feels like the first day I’m doing this. I wonder where the time went (has it really been over 2 years?!) but also when I’ll stop feeling like a ‘new mum’. I still don’t know what I’m doing, and I still get that funny feeling in my gut sometimes wondering why on earth I’m left to look after a small human without any training or qualifications! The PhD and parenting both have their challenges. In comparison with studying, parenting still feels so new to me. I am not a new student, but I am still a ‘new mum’.

How I’m getting on, 15 months in

The final third of 2014 was rather intense in comparison with earlier months of my PhD. As well as chairing a meeting in Copenhagen for the translators’ network, I was preparing a portfolio of my research and project so far, and what I intend to do next. So now I have submitted two sample chapters (approx 20,000 words in total, ack!), chapter titles and abstracts for the remainder of the project, a proposed timeline of research for the next two years, and a bibliography.

The sample chapters were especially fascinating and challenging to write – it all seemed to tumble out of my brain from nowhere after months of reading. Meetings with my supervisors were extremely helpful and motivating – I gather from reading about the average PhD student experience this is not a given so I am cheered by my experience so far! I started writing the chapters in earnest in August and they were completed by mid December (although I’m still not one hundred percent happy with them, natch). All the while fitting in time for my partner to study when he wasn’t at work, playgroups and playdates (I hate that word… but what’s a good alternative?) with the toddler, being administrator for a local parenting website, and getting into my weight training at the gym. Looking back now, around fifteen months in, the first year of my PhD was used for important reading and to provide a foundation for my research, but also for finding my feet and our pattern as a family to enable me to do my work and still have someone looking after the child!

I can't always work like this!

I can’t always work like this!

A small change in 2015 which I hope will have a big impact is that we are upping our monthly hours at the nursery/workhub to give me more study time generally and also more flexibility. I still prefer to use it like a short workday (9.30-2.30, meaning the toddler gets lunch and a nap!), but occasionally need to extend the day so I can pop to uni, or have a few short ‘morning only’ bursts if working regularly rather than in longer stretches suits our plans that week.

Now for the upgrade meeting/viva in January (fingers crossed) and onto the next concrete stage of research!

Mini one-day guide to Copenhagen for n00bs

I recently got this email out of the blue (identifying details removed, natch):

Subject: Copenhagen Recommendations?

Hi Ellen,

I hope you’re well. I saw your business card up on the notice board in the work hub saying that you’re a Danish translator.

Just wanted to see if you have any recommendations for what to see in Copenhagen. I’m going there on Thursday only for a day to a conference and it’s my first time I’m going to Denmark so I’m really looking forward to it.

Any tips for Copenhagen would be appreciated!

Now, I have never lived in Copenhagen, but I’ve visited on many occasions, and if you were to ask me what I did the last few times I was there the answer would genuinely be that I made the most of the time alone by chilling in my hotel room with pastries, occasionally going on the hunt for good vegetarian food (hunt is the right word).


But this was a nice challenge. What would a Londoner with no experience of Denmark want from Copenhagen? How could I tell a stranger how to make best use (not even all of) one day there?

My reply:

Copenhagen is pretty compact and very walkable, so you’ll be able to wander and explore a lot, depending on how much free time you have of course!

Strøget is the main shopping street, it’s pedestrianised and runs from the town hall square (Rådhushaven) to the square by the theatre/the harbour (Kongens Nytorv). Incidentally there is massive construction work going on in both those squares (expanding the metro) so they aren’t very picturesque! You’ll mostly find high street shops on Strøget – the same as you’d find in London – so you might want to explore the streets parallel, for example Studiestræde and Læderstræde. You’re lucky as Thursday evening is usually ‘late night shopping’ meaning many shops which usually close at 5pm will stay open til 8 or 9pm. Nyhavn (on the other side of Kongens Nytorv) is the brightly-coloured harbour area with lots of pubs which you see in lots of postcards of Copenhagen. If you walk to the end of Nyhavn there is lovely view of the Opera House across the water, and then if you walk up with the water on your right you’ll reach Amelienborg (the royal residence). Walking through Kongens Have (a landscaped park with a view of Rosenborg castle [pictured above]) to the National Museum of Art (Statens Museum for Kunst) is lovely. If the weather is awful and you’ve had enough of being outdoors, the National Museum of Denmark (Nationalmuseet) actually has a fascinating exhibition on the history of modern Denmark. Both those museums are free. You might need to check out these places on Google maps, I’m not necessarily listing in the right order! But that’s a rundown of the sights I can remember.

Best takeaway coffee is from Joe and the Juice, there are lots of them around. They do good sandwiches too, actually. A great bakery chain is called Lagekagehuset, there is one near the town hall end of Strøget and one at the main train station for example, so definitely get a Danish pastry or two from there! There’s one in the airport too – a few weeks ago when I visited I brought home some pastries for my partner, that’s a good souvenir! For other souvenirs, as you don’t have much time I’d recommend the department store Magasin du Nord (near Kongens Nyhavn) – the basement has foodie stuff (posh liquorice is very ‘in’ at the moment!) and the kitchenwares/lighting floor has a sort of trinket section with some lovely Danish design (I’ve bought some lovely mugs there as presents) and the kids clothing section is full of Danish designers too. By the way you can pay almost everywhere with a credit card so don’t worry too much about getting too many kroner in cash.

I’ll let my out-of-the-blue correspondent’s words round off the post:

Amazing! Thank you so much for this incredibly detailed description. You should really publish this as a tour guide!

Your wish is my command, stranger.