A journey into the centre of Malmo brought us face to face with a biting Arctic wind, and a very morose looking Santa who sat on a small stage in a shopping centre, unpestered by any children whatsover. He had a large book on his knee that looked like an old-style sales and purchase ledger; I wondered if he was just taking advantage of a period free of excitable kids by doing the accounts. Reindeer food isn't cheap, you know. We all have to balance the books. Even Mr Claus.

For days now I've been having to control my mirth at the existence of a chocolate bar called Plopp. A sample of the fantastic word play that it's possible to achieve with this simple prop: Would you like some Plopp? Care to have a bit of my Plopp? Where would I find your Plopp? His Plopp just melted in his hand! And so on. So it was a personal delight for me to find a poster for this gentleman affixed to a shop window in Malmo:

If all this is getting a bit “That's Life” for you, don't worry, I'm sure there'll be a sad story about malnourished children along in a minute. But not yet.

I pondered a man in a health food shop, who in turn was pondering whether to buy an enormous tub of a substance known as Super Whey Fuel. I don't know what Super Whey Fuel goes well with, as I've not seen it featured in books by Sophie Grigson or Gary Rhodes. Perhaps neither of them are skilled enough to be able to combine it with creme fraiche before pouring it into a fluted pastry case and baking it at Gas Mark 6 for 35 minutes, but it's something I would be interested in seeing. Super Whey Fuel. Christ. It's surely a foodstuff one step DOWN from Ginster's Pasties, were that possible. Here is a portion of Super Whey Fuel:

Two delights of Scandinavia to finish off with. Firstly, children skating in the town square:

Just before this picture was taken, there were a whole load of them wrestling on the ice with orange traffic cones. It was refreshing to see them getting to grips with this essential piece of “fun equipment” in their early teens, as it usually requires ingestion of large quantities of cheap cider before investigating road works on the A505 outside Hitchin (for example). Just after this picture was taken, I was savagely beaten to the ground by the father of this youth, wanting to know why I was taking photos of his son. Not really. Though it's only a matter of time.

And lastly, a man with a big hat in a supermarket.

Flying home shortly. Gale force winds, here. Eek.