Mystic brew

Shifting gears for an afternoon to share this little piece of flash fiction…

Image created using https://labs.openai.com/e/ and the prompt “A lady selling tea at a tea cart in a dusty old medina meets a mysterious stranger”

Kamala reached across her rickety tea cart and handed a mint-scented cup to the stranger. As their fingers touched, he shuddered, eyes gleaming like ammolite gemstones.

Moments earlier, he was just another shadow hurtling through the sun-dappled medina. Aloof yet open to refreshment. He approached…

Beneath his politeness was a peculiar unease. He carried the ghost of a tragic loss and dare not speak of them in case he crumbled. Instead, his sorrow had calcified to a numbing pain.

Kamala could feel it. All of it. This was her gift. She could breach any fortress of pretence. Plunge beneath and extract that pain, prising it open … plucking a pearl of possibility.

She fixed him with a compassionate look, the kind Kamala’s nana used to offer when she felt at odds with the world. Then she uttered a simple lifeline: “There are no happy endings. Only new beginnings.

“Time to let go. Follow Imaan to Dukhara.”

Kamala had always felt the world more intensely than others. But those feelings didn’t belong to her. What did she see when she turned her gaze inward, hands placed on her chest as if scanning her own soul? Nothing. A void. 

Just then, the man returned and took her hand: “Remember Edesor?” he said. “Elit is there. You can still save her if you go now.” 

Kamala was alight, jolted by the past.

Later that afternoon, she packed up her cart and walked towards the station clasping a one-way ticket … to danger.     

This is my life – a few chapters anyway

“After university, I sidestepped the legal profession to pursue my interest in writing. I was captivated by many forms of music – anything with soul, intensity, honesty – and wanted to learn how to use language to explore my relationship to sound. Call it a calling but was there a career in it? I had to find out.”

It's rare someone passes the mic and invites me to reflect on my career as a writer. But Todd L Burns is that gracious kinda guy. His Music Journalism Insider newsletter is always a treat – unparalleled in scope and depth.

Trust me, the tributaries you will go down are going to change the way to listen to and think about music. Please subscribe and let Todd blow your mind on a weekly basis.

My interview with him is here.

Apologies for the self-congratulatory image but It’s the one words-related award I have held in my hands, that a big team helped to deliver. For you, mum.

And I am usually head down in the engine room, so the professional archive is thin.

4 U, Prince

“Sometimes I wish life was never ending / and all good things, they say, never last” [Sometimes it Snows in April]

21.04.16

10pm

Hearing the news this evening was like a funeral at dawn – eerie and premature. I took a long, meandering route to the bus stop under dark skies, gazing vacantly into the eyes of passers by, looking for some faint acknowledgement of the bombshell that had just landed.

Some solemn faces were hunched over their phones, others fatigued and gazing vacantly into the distance. Had they heard? The loss of another alien legend, only three months before, had done little to prepare us for the fact that the fragility of human life inevitably seals our fate. Even the extraordinary among us.

My initial reaction was one of confusion. Just before my phone ran out of power I texted my friend to ask whether he would be joining me at an exhibition. He simply replied, “PRINCE.” Had he taken up his Prince2 project management course again, I thought?

Then jealousy swiftly kicked in. Had he caught wind of another secret gig by the Purple One, the same flu-ridden figure who had been rushed to hospital only days before? No, such a speedy recovery seemed ridiculous. 

Then I thought, “But, it’s Prince,” echoing the words of director Kevin Smith as he recounted a bizarre attempt to make a documentary at Paisley Park. Anything is possible.

The world collectively breathed a sigh of relief and moved on to the next hashtag’ed talking point.

Then … disbelief.

Growing up in the Eighties you fell into one of two camps. Prince or Michael Jackson. Sure, you might love both – pop superstars with catchy songs, slick moves and soul-deep deliveries. Singular talents and trailblazing heroes for their people. But I chose a side. To this day, I’m not sure why.

Perhaps it was because Jackson was more ubiquitous on TV and in the press, simultaneously their darling and punchline. The conservative choice for a conservative kid like me. Prince was an enigma, in comparison – aloof, androgynous, shape-shifting, x-rated.

Undoubtedly, some perceived him as being blacker and therefore more authentic but Prince maintained he grew up in "a black and white world, rich and poor, night and day". He strived to make all kinds of music and be judged for the quality of his work and not the colour of his skin. 

The Face put him on their cover in September 1984, proclaiming him “The Cool Ruler” and asking, “Can Prince take Michael Jackson’s crown?”

They never did square off in that ‘Bad’ video as MJ intended. In Prince’s words, “The first line of that song is ‘Your butt is mine.’ Now who’s gonna sing that to who? Cos you’re sure not gonna sing it to me. And I sure ain’t singing it to you. So right there, we got a problem.”

Seeing this clip from 1983 for the first time was the calling. A priceless artifact dug up long before the dawn of YouTube. I watched in amazement as three legends met in the arena for one night only. A moment in time that would never be repeated. Prince managed to squeeze a concert’s worth of drama into two minutes on stage … and off! Who is this guy? I thought. I mean, really?

It was only after I passed into adulthood and my knowledge of the roots of black music began to grow that I came to truly appreciate the full extent of his abilities. From there, I became more fascinated by lesser-known aspects of the man. There was that legendary interview with Electrifying Mojo in Detroit (brilliantly sampled by Moodymann), the fact that he also wrote irresistible pop oddities such as ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ and The Bangles’ ‘Manic Monday’, his love of Joni Mitchell and Cocteau Twins, his jams with Miles Davis at Paisley Park, the influence of those drum machines and freaky synths on legions of dance producers, and the roots of the Minneapolis sound he helped to establish.

There was also a warmer and more down-to-earth side that the public rarely saw: his qualities as a loyal and supportive friend to the likes of Arsenio Hall, Mariah Carey and Toni Braxton, for instance. “An amazing, rounded human being” as Fox 9 reporter and Paisley Park regular Iris Perez described him. In secret, he was a humanitarian who supported numerous projects in areas such as Oakland and Chicago. 

And let’s not forget his wicked sense of humour… Prince on Sesame Street, anyone? Or Jimmy Fallon’s ping-pong story?

To think, at 5ft 2” he was a baller. Literally. Gets me every time.

Apparently a photo of the day Prince whooped Charlie Murphy on the b-ball court. This story was later sent up hilariously in a Chapelle Show skit  

He had more comedy in one look than most stand-ups have in their whole career.

via GIPHY

via GIPHY

Listening to the Little Richard special on BBC6Music a fortnight ago, the flamboyant singer was quick to recognise the debt Prince owed to him, as well as Jimi Hendrix, James Brown, Stevie Wonder and Sly Stone. A touch of Charlie Chaplin too, according to Miles Davis. Such was his magnetism and gift for theatricality.

Here was a guy who assimilated the best of each artist, shook them up and made something far greater than the sum of its parts. As the years passed, Prince would himself become the inspiration and mentor, endorsing the careers of new artists such as King, Esperanza Spalding, Janelle Monae and Lianne La Havas as well as his last band 3rd Eye Girl.

Although he was notorious for being a harsh taskmaster, souring relationships with numerous band members and protégés such as The Time, he could also be a generous collaborator and guide for those fortunate enough to be allowed into his domain. Many of them were women looking for a break. “I am a giver by nature, I like people,” he claimed while in conversation with Will Hodgkinson for Mojo magazine in 2014. “But I test people in many ways.” For more on the creative process and a revolving door of supporting players, check Matt Thorne's book.

Signed to Warner Brothers in 1978, Prince instantly gained a cult following with his first three albums For You, Prince and Dirty Mind, fusing classic r’n’b and lithe funk with rock and new wave. Along the way, he courted controversy with explicit tracks such as ‘Head’ and honed his outrageous stagecraft to the point of orgasmic release – till the crowd was “burnin’ up”.

But it was Purple Rain that sent him stratospheric, a melodramatic funk opera about a young kid trying to make it in urban America, steeped in gospel and blues – a black experience electrified by the technology of the day.

Beyond the carnal, there was something almost spiritual at play. Prince never truly got his props as a lyricist but he could certainly write a poignant line or two. How about, “The beautiful ones, they hurt you every time”? Or “If I was ur girlfriend, would you let me dress you? I mean help you pick out your clothes before we go out? Not that you're helpless, but sometime, sometime, those are the things that being in love's about.”

In a BBC documentary about Prince’s Eighties’ period, Rolling Stone’s Anthony DeCurtis perfectly expresses the catharsis of the epic title track. For many, Prince's masterpiece… “The level of emotional nakedness and honesty is often overlooked. That sense of injuring someone and almost wishing you weren’t doing it, as you’re doing it. This longing for a place, this purple rain that could just wash all that away somehow and allow you to have that connection without all the pain. It’s deep.

“I remember when I was going through a divorce, I listened to that song and just started crying. In a very indirect but profound way he gets at those emotions of what went wrong. There’s no way I can make it better, I may even be at fault but can't something save us from this? Let’s go to another world, let’s get to a place where we can get beyond this. That’s what ‘Purple Rain’ is about.”

I have this recurring dream, a fantasy perhaps, of dancing in front of the Pyramid Stage as the heavens open … and the sky turns purple. My one entry to Glastonbury by the grace of the ticket gods. It felt like an inevitability. A dream it shall remain.

The breadth of creativity on Sign O the Times still astounds me. It’s probably my favourite album of his, although Parade has its moments as this Pop Matters anniversary feature attests. From the rap social commentary of the opener to the brooding, gender-bending devotion of ‘If I Was Ur Girlfriend’ with that Linn LM-1 heartbeat, to the giddy sweetness of ‘Starfish & Coffee’, all-time favourite love song ‘Adore’ and the ultimate New Year’s party starter ‘It’s Gonna Be A Beautiful Night’.

But that’s the thing about Prince – scores of fans have their favourite album, their go-to track, even those who didn't quite “get him”. He had the keys to your soul. Even if you didn’t know it.

He carried a mystique. This afternoon I watched a fascinating discussion about the legacy of David Bowie, featuring photographer Kevin Cummins, producer Ken Scott and GQ editor Dylan Jones. Cummins brought the house down with his comment that he’d never want to see David “Instagramming his f-ing breakfast”, and preferred to always assume that he lived on a spaceship and ate moon dust each morning. It was a poignant lament about the lack of mystery and mythology in music today.

Although he eventually did join Instagram, Prince always kept you guessing. The wicked flirt, the compulsive tease. The closer you felt you got to him, the further away he pulled. Here was one artist who couldn’t be figured out, followed and ignored.

Even in his later years, when the star mellowed, found god and stopped doing the splits, he continued to experiment on stage, rarely playing the same tune in the same way. With limitless talent and hits like his, why would you? The One Night Alone and 3121 tours in particular helped to rekindle people's adulation while also introducing the artist to a new generation of fans. (A show-stealing medley with Beyonce at the 2004 Grammys didn't hurt either.)

Prince was also a leader in the fight for artistic freedom, taking control of his intellectual property and being the first major artist to sell albums, his preferred canvas, through the web. He saw the potential for the internet to be a “direct line” to his “friends” long before others.

I think back to spring of 2014 and those guerrilla gigs he blessed us with in London. A refreshingly mischievous way of simultaneously treating and torturing fans. Many of those in attendance weren’t necessarily part of the Purple Army, fanatics willing to entertain every whim and indulgence, the kind you’d hear on overblown sets such as Emancipation, The Crystal Ball and The Rainbow Children. But seeing him was something you simply had to do before you died. Or before he died.

It’s a bittersweet memory as I remember waiting outside Ronnie Scott’s for seven hours, slowly creeping up to the door and hearing the faint strains of classics as revellers kept each others’ spirits up beneath a projected image of the main man.

I finally reached the entrance round midnight only to be told that no more punters would be let in. To make matters worse, staff refused to open the door even a few inches to make us feel part of the ceremony. Suddenly, there came a decree from on high, as if from the Royal Badness himself: “Party where you are.”

We did.

At least I managed to catch him at the O2 during his 21-night 20TEN tour, a blistering trawl through his hits. But it was the after-hours afterparty that I really craved. Prince going way out there – no format, no limits.

His influence on music and popular culture is undeniable. You can hear him in D’Angelo and Pharrell, you can see him in Miguel.

Hell, you can feel him in the colour purple. He claimed his own colour. Can you believe that?

As Robin Givhan describes in her brilliant piece for the Washington Post, Prince made purple "complicated, sexy and mysterious". She continues: "The clothes were his. His choice. His style. Uniquely him. He did not appear to be searching for himself in fashion." 

There will be an outpouring of tributes over the next few weeks, some impressive in their recollection of key moments and astute in their observations about his influence on music. Others will be heartfelt testimonials, sharing experiences of records and performances as true rites of passage. And I have no problem with the latter.

In a world that’s becoming increasingly cynical, where compassion, humanity and emotional honesty are exceptions rather than the norm, I think it’s beautiful that the music changed lives, brought strangers together and made them feel. If artists can give others the confidence to stand out, even better. Let’s not have a repeat of Bowie's “grief police”.

It is impossible to make sense of tragedies like this. The last tribute to a fallen idol I wrote was James Brown on Christmas Day 2006. How apt that this is for one of his children. But life should be filled with more hellos than goodbyes. I expected Prince to be composing for an orchestra into his sixties or making oddball jazz music after that. But alas, it wasn’t to be. We can now only wonder where he might have gone next.

A wise man once said: "It's time we all reach out for something new. That means you too." So what now? How many young artists can ride the waves of change and stay the course like him through sheer dedication and application? This YouTube comment perfectly encapsulated the gaping hole Prince and a handful of others have left.

Who will be our icons in 20, 30, 40 years’ time? Who will carry the torch? What will they stand for and how will they change our lives? With a song, an experience, an encounter. Hopefully, this moment will be an awakening, a new beginning for the next generation. All that music to inspire. And if the vault is opened, well… 

Eccentric? All the way. Cryptic? U bet. A savvy puppeteer of the media? No doubt. But to his credit he was not in the least bit interested in the cult of celebrity. Instead, Prince was utterly consumed by the craft, achieving complete mastery of studio, stage, audience and image. In turn, we submitted. 

As Nextdraft editor Dave Pell put it so bleakly in his mailout today: “Think of all the instruments that make up a band. One of the greatest players of each of those instruments died today. And he was one guy.”

For me, Prince will always be his own energy. His own universe. The ultimate showman, a liberator of body and mind and the greatest musician the world has ever seen.

Always on the one.

With a cheeky smile. 

For now, that is all there is to say. Off to dream of heaven. I know he’s there among friends.

Watch. Listen. Cherish. Remember.

Parade Tour live in Detroit on Prince's birthday (1986)

Electric Intercourse (live), 1983

‘Bambi’ live on Jimmy Fallon (2013)

Five things I love about Copenhagen

The out-of-office, carefree glow has faded since my five-day jaunt around Copenhagen but the restorative effect of a city break continues to pay off. It is fairly obvious, I know, but I often need to force myself to go away to realise that travel, particularly the solo kind, is a wonderful way to open up to the world and new possibilities.

I didn't let the mildly grey weather forecast deter me as, all around, Britain was glistening in the sun, nor did I let that most readily available of excuses – money – derail the adventure. Yes Copenhagen is among the most expensive cities in Europe – 15 to 20 per cent more than London by my bottled water, coffee and train ticket index – but it more than makes up for it with its comforting sense of ease and indulgence in life's pleasures. (Incidentally, I have since read that the heavy cost of bottled water is a ploy to encourage more people to drink from the tap, a source that is filtered and perfectly adequate. I think they need to replicate this in the Southeast.)

In any case, there is no shortage of ways to roam on a budget, from finding a quirky gem of a flat in the hip quarter of Norrebro on Airbnb, to taking the free tour, on foot or by bike. And for food, you could do a lot worse than survive on a diet of smorrebrod (open sandwiches), quintessential street food from the pølsevognen (hot dog stands) or one of the many falafel and kebab stores dotted around the city. Of course, treat yourself at least once to impeccably prepared Nordic cuisine from a local favourite such as Relae or brunch at chefs' favourite Granola. But for everything else, there's Fakta, the supermarket. Danes love to buy a few six-packs and congregate by the riverside during the summer. And they can. So join them.

As stoic as the Danes are, winters can be harsh so summer is a time where the city is in full bloom … at its best … buzzing, although not in the 24/7 London sense. (Exuberance is not the first word that comes to mind in this city.) I arrived in the midst of a busy calendar: the jazz festival had just finished, fashion week was winding down, electronic music festival Strøm was in full flow and preparations were underway for "Northern Europe's biggest food festival", Copenhagen Cooking.

Three things that Copenhagen does very well are style, comfort and cleanliness. The city has received numerous awards over the past few years including topping the UN's first Global Happiness Report in 2012 and Monocle's 'Most Liveable City" and "Best Quality of Life" surveys the following year. A large part of their success has been their will to preserve the city's "green and blue" spaces, together with a careful consideration of what amenities will improve the lives of residents and their families without clogging up the wheels of commerce. Next, as the 2014 European Green Capital, Copenhagen will act as a blueprint for efficient and democratic urban planning with ambitious aims to have 50 per cent of people cycling to their place of work or education by 2015 (35 per cent cycled to their workplace or school in 2010) and a commitment to reach carbon neutral status by 2025. 

There are plenty of blog posts listing fascinating facts about the city like this, or offering useful tips like this and this, so I thought I would briefly make five observations about Copenhagen; the things that made the biggest impression on me during my stay.

1. BEAUTY IS EVERYWHERE

One day was all it took for me to develop a real complex about the attention I was giving the locals. I am not saying that there is a Helena Christensen hanging on every street corner, but almost everyone, man or woman, is alarmingly attractive and yet blissfully unaware of one another. They dress well too (and not just in draped black and grey or tight leather like a Rick Owens or Acne model). No wonder the world's most popular sperm bank is located in Denmark (Aarhus), ready to dispense some of these good-looking genes to the rest of the world.

What a refreshing contrast to the head-turning and ogling so prevalent in other countries like England. But by beauty I also mean the municipal art, the architecture, the grounds, the abundance of elegant human-centred design – from big statement pieces such as Henning Larsen's Copenhagen Opera House and the man-made beach at Amager Strandpark to more everyday creations including the Eames high chairs in the airport and those luxury wood-grain table trays on the train that gracefully rise into place… When you have been raised in such an aesthetically rich environment how can you not appreciate beauty in its many forms?

Botanic Gardens

Nice enough to have a wedding here. So someone did

Taschen book store

Two women take down a few notes from Kate Moss in the city centre

Nyhavn

Once a shipping route in the 17th century, now an entertainment thoroughfare popular with visitors due to its chocolate box houses. Reminiscent of Bergen in Norway. An idyllic dinner setting by night

Statue at Kongens Have

Everyone talks about the Little Mermaid on Langelilie promenade but this statue near Rosenberg Castle is even more fascinating to me. Who is she and what is she saying?

Church of Our Lady

A Scarf is A Scarf is A Scarf

Pop-ups like this really give people talking points and moments to ponder during their busy day. Katrine May Hansen's outdoor photography project explores the relationship between the head scarfs of the Danish island Fanoe and the hijabs worn on the Indonesian island Java. How have these items opened some doors and closed others?

2. EVERYONE IS HAPPY, AREN'T THEY? 

Let's go beyond the surveys and empirical evidence. I walked across the city many times during my stay, from the boutiques and cafes of Sankt Hans Torv in Norrebro to the idyllic riverside homes of Christianshavn and the hemp-rich photo-free bohemia of Christiania, the popular Strøget (the longest pedestrian shopping area in Europe) and the seedier backstreets of Istedgade in Kødbyen (the meatpacking district of Vesterbro). No arguments, tension, trouble, scruffles… Instead smiles, deep conversation, exercise, enjoyment of one's surroundings … and well-behaved children. Even when I did manage to find a child ready to act up, he did it ever so sweetly and silently. Amazing. I couldn't imagine anyone getting worked up in Copenhagen. This is a city where a mother would feel comfortable leaving her child alone outside the store; where parents aren't required to give permission slips for their children to go on outings.

Although taxation is crippling over here, new mothers are treated like queens, childcare provision is excellent and higher education is free for students from the EU/EEA and Switzerland. My impression is that every Dane today has the freedom and opportunity to lead a successful and fulfilling life from the cradle to the grave. How's that for welfare, Mr Beveridge? However, beneath this placid and perfectly content exterior you can't help but wonder whether a few cracks occasionally appear. This is the home of Kierkegaard after all, the father of existentialism and philosopher of anxiety. The nation that has recently probed the darker recesses of the human condition through successful shows such as The Killing, Borgen and The Bridge. The evidence in favour of happiness is compelling, but I couldn't help but wonder if all is as it seems. Perhaps it's more a case of Danes managing their expectations in life as the following AFP report suggests…

Every year, several surveys show that Danes are the self-proclaimed happiest people in the world. To outsiders, it's a curiosity, for despite its wealth and prosperity, Denmark also has long, dark winters and one of Europe's highest tax rates. Duration: 02:13.

3. CYCLISTS AND DRIVERS LIVE SIDE BY SIDE

The air of peaceful co-existence in Copenhagen even extends to two great adversaries of modern metropolitan life. Apparently Copenhagen used to be a motor city with people commuting from the suburbs. Then the oil crisis hit in the Seventies and the government was forced to incorporate other means of transport into their planning. Copenhagen is on a mission to become the world's greatest cycling city and who would bet against them. There are dedicated wide lanes on all roads, sandwiched between the pavement and vehicle lane, and you can reach any district of the city within 20 minutes from the centre. Faster, cheaper, with an abundance of storage space on the street and by stations… Put simply, Copenhagen is a two-wheelers' town. It was Copenhagen's chic cycle culture that first attracted me to the city several years ago. If you can peddle along while chatting on your phone and eating your lunch a fork and knife, all while looking immaculate, consider yourself a true CPH local. Next time…

To hell with practicality, says this woman. It's all about being fashion forward and femme fatale on the way to work

(c) www.copenhagenize.com

No shortage of parking spaces on Fiolstraede, round the corner from the university

4.  NO STARBUCKS, LOTS OF ONE-OFFS

I believe that everyone should pay their taxes but I am not one of those belligerent socialist types that boycott a shop because it's a chain. I support homegrown and independent retailers; the green goddess is a last resort. So it was refreshing to not have Starbucks, or someone like Pret for that matter, occupying every other unit on every other street. In its place you have much smaller and arguably better names such as Coffee Collective and Kaffeplantagen beside quirkier options such as Kaffe & Vinyl (if you fancy a dig) or The Laundomat Cafe (if you're down to your last pair of pants). This is a city that thrives on its entrepreneurial spirit but in a collaborative rather than stuffy sense. Out of that comes a more whimsical take on enterprise.

On the subject of shopping, there are so many fashion boutiques to pop into if you are looking for something to splurge on. Brands such as Wood Wood, Mads Nørgaard and Henrik Vibsov (whose installation of stuffed objects, manipulated forms and mechanised structures at GL Strand is fascinating) offer a thoughtfully crafted selection of cuts and fabrics for fans of smart casual couture. Copenhagen is also a goldmine for one-off antiques and second-hand furniture collectors. The best tips I received were Ingerslev Antik (in and around Ravnsborggade), Smallegade (for boot fairs), Danish Classic on Bredgade and Retrograd (by Islands Brygge) for all your vintage homeware needs. There are countless others.

Leave the centre, get lost and stumble upon something special. Unless there happens to be a Viking market on during your stay and you're seduced by a silver half-moon fertility pendant like my friend Carmen. Then it is certainly your lucky day.

Kaffe & Vinyl

These two things go hand in hand so this place gets my vote. Freshly brewed coffee from locals Risteriet together with a respectable collection of records covering everything from folk to house. I may be some time

Mikkeller

Mikkeller Ølbar, in Viktoriagade, has an impressive 20 beers on draft at any moment, about half of which are their own. The barmen are real experts and will delight in helping you make the right choice (c) Bernt Rostad

Danish Design Centre

My magazine collection is getting out of control. What's needed is a storage unit that doubles as a display. I want people to reach out grab one, like on a newstand. I need an elegant unobtrusive solution. Who has one? The Danes of course

Sign wisdom

Courtesy of www.le-bix.dk

Henrik Vibskov – Neck Plus Ultra

We're all puppets on a string according to Vibskov, controlled by others and yet reassured by the guidance that our master provide

Henrik Vibskov – Neck Plus Ultra

A idea that was first shared on the catwalk at Copenhagen Fashion Week, these upside down flamingo necks are a current favourite motif of artist and designer Vibskov. There is a point to this but I can't remember what it is. Something to do with disorientation and the distance between body and mind. Go see the exhibition

Viking Market

Viking Market

Paints are made using a mixture of the most vibrant colours you will ever see, and then applied to different fabric designs 

Viking Market

A craftsman at work on a piece of jewellery

Viking Market

Another craftsman demonstrating how the metal is forged, moulded and cooled before being hand-finished

5. MALMO IS NEXT DOOR

Here's to Scandinavian unity. It turns out that Malmo is only a 35-minute train journey away across the Öresund bridge, a marvel of engineering. And what's more you can afford to be an idiot, have a few drinks the night before, start late, leave your passport in the flat and still be welcomed into another country with time to discover. It's that two-for-one feeling, where you squeeze every last bit of enjoyment from the trip, that I really love. And Malmo is worth the trip. Similarly calm, clean and picturesque with its river city ambiance. Their annual festival was on so we chatted to a few stall owners in Lilla Torg (the square) and tasted the most refreshing raspberry juice and surprisingly moorish licorice (coming to a food store near you). I ate mouse for the first time and had a well deserved coffee while looking out over the stunning harbour after a lengthy trek. There was also an opportunity to visit the Museum of Modern Art (a tastefully converted fire station) where Icelandic artist Ragnar Kjartansson pondered the gloomy and melancholic notion of Scandinavian Pain. How? Through an encounter with Edvard Munch in a barn and a side-splitting cover of Abba'sThe Winner Takes it All. On the subject of sadness, there was no time to visit one of my favourite clothing stores, Tres Bien. Not bad for an afternoon's 'work', otherwise.

Cafe in Malmo Central Station

How cosy does this place look? An open invitation to miss your train

Lilla Torg, Malmo Festival

Mousse kebab

The meat, which has the texture of liver and the succulence of venison, is fried in a griddle pan with onions and spices, and then spooned into a warm flatbread and served with mashed potato, jam, yoghurt and salad. That's how it tasted anyway

Malmo harbour

A good place to pause for a coffee and a geography quiz with two embarrassed girls in one of the cafes as we asked what stretch of water we were looking at. The answer is the Øresund strait

Scandinavian Pain @ Malmo Museum of Modern Art

Iceland artist Ragnar Kjartansson's encounter in a barn with Munch, and the scene of his infamous cover of Abba's 'The Winner Takes it All'

The crying statue

This piece is called Swedish Melancholy, a life-size bronze statue of actor Gösta Ekman by his wife Mary-Louise. Apparently Mary-Louise thought it would be nice to show another side to her husband, who was known as being a jovial fellow. Malmo's residents didn't agree and said they didn't want a weeping statue in the square, while politicians debated whether it was appropriate to cry in public. After being removed from Limhamn, his original resting place, Gösta was eventually allowed to ball his eyes out by Altonaparken

Boat trip

Best experienced with a few bottles of fizz

Platform projection at Malmo station

+ You should also make time to visit Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, situated in Humlebæk, 35 kilometres north of Copenhagen. The grounds alone are stunning and worthy of a few hours. Yoko Ono has a retrospective showing at the moment; I think it differs from the one that was on at London's Serpentine last year.