Turns out, starting May 17th with (according to Helge) at least six glasses of champagne before breakfast and then drowning in sangria and cuba libre at Elin's for dinner, was not such a good idea after all. Carlos'd hired caterers for the most extraordinary breakfast buffet with steamed mussels, roastbeef, smoked salmon, roasted chicken, big loaves of freshly baked bread, a tower of strawberries, champagne, chocolate treats and even the traditional kransekake. There was even more, but I can't recall everything. Needless to say, it was delicious too.
Elin'd made a bathtub (almost literally) of sangria, loads of salad, her ever so delighful potato salad, loads of dip, crisps and cake! Ulrik was boss of the baaar-beee-queue - and I wont even list all the delicacies, because frankly my keyboard isn't *that* waterproof.
There you go. Today it RAINED, which was miserable, almost as miserable as my fragile state. And I can't wait to come home and relapse into a comfortable position and die a little bit more inside. YESS.
Another random photo I took the other day.