It's not often you get a chance to photograph a mermaid . . . in the snow. As I focused on her I swear I saw her shiver. A group of tourists were also having their photo taken with Hans Christian Andersen's creation. "Do you know her vital statistics?" I asked rhetorically. They all looked at me blankly.
"Thirty six, twenty-four, three and six a pound." Their expressions shifted from blankness to incomprehension. "The old ones are the best," I said with a broad smile. Incomprehension gave way to pity. "Time for a glogg," I thought, and went off in search of one. December is a wonderful month to visit Copenhagen. But you've got to be the sort of person that likes Christmas and Christmassy things.
The Danes certainly do, almost to excess. Like many of us they probably breath a collective sigh of relief once it's over - until, that is, the tingle of excitement, the childish anticipation in both young and old alike, begins again the following November.
On the Saturday before the start of Advent, the official build-up begins with a parade through the streets culminating in the switching on of the Christmas lights. Santa is the main man and much is made of the fact that he is, of course, Danish.
Every child will tell you that his home is Greenland, but not every child knows the more prosaic fact that the arctic island is a Danish province. The Red-Coated White-Bearded one is accompanied by numerous look-alikes, many of whom are playing instruments.
It's funny, but I did not know that Santa was such a jazz aficionado - he always looked more of an oompah bloke to me. There are also countless nisser - these are Danish imps or pixies who are renowned for being mischievous. In traditional Danish society, especially in rural areas, the nisser had to be placated (it sounds better than bribed) with a large bowl of julegroed (Christmas rice porridge) which was put outside on the doorstep.
No doubt there was some feline contribution to this custom as the proof of their existence was that the porridge was gone the next morning. A vestige of this custom remains. With their main Christmas dinner (eaten on Christmas Eve), the Danes have risalamande - boiled rice swathed in whipped cream, mixed with chopped almonds and served with cherry sauce. It is eaten in the same way as people here finish their festive blow-out with Christmas pud.
And just like those of us who hide a silver coin in the pudding for any lucky person to discover, the Danes hide an almond. The person who gets it can claim the special Almond Gift. As if by magic, the youngest at the dinner table invariably finds the almond in his or her pudding and is presented with a pig made of marzipan.
Along with the Little Mermaid, the Danish capital is inextricably linked in most people's minds with Tivoli. The gardens, which were modelled on the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens in London, were called Tivoli Vauxhall when they first opened in 1843. Formerly closed for the winter, they now open in the weeks before Christmas for a short season.
The Tivoli Christmas fair claims to be the biggest Christmas market in Scandinavia and last year attracted 400,000 visitors. Members of the SAS (Scrooge Appreciation Society) should rent a Die Hard movie and stay away, but for those who like pretty lights, choirs singing carols, shopping for toys, decorations and gifts, it is a must.
Open from late morning, the 50 or more stalls offer everything from the traditional - gold paper Christmas tree decorations and Advent wreaths of mistletoe and spruce with four candles - to the kitsch. I could not resist a red Santa cap with a flashing light in its snowball tip.
Yuletide biscuits are a speciality. Apparently no two Danish housewives use exactly the same spices. They scorn the recipes given in Danish cookbooks, insisting that the only person who really knew how to bake them was their mother or grandmother. Nevertheless, the biscuits are popular with the strollers in Tivoli. "Peppernuts" have crushed cloves and cinnamon, "brown cakes" are ginger biscuits and the defining ingredient of "smalls" is vanilla.
Turkeys should give special thanks to the Danes for the fact that they are not on the festive menu. But this is not the case for a fair number of the country's 12 million pigs. Roast pork and superb crackling with sweet and sour red cabbage and sugar glazed white potatoes with thick brown gravy is the traditional festive feast.
For those who collect porcelain, this year sees the 102nd Bing and Grondahl Christmas plate made by the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain company. Each year there is a different design, and the not inexpensive plates tend to increase in value.
Another tradition (from 1963) is for the Danes to go and see the elaborate Christmas tables on display in the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain Shop. They are created by well-known Danes using Royal Copenhagen finery. Last year, the theme was "Tables from the life of Brewer Jacobsen", a tribute to Carl Jacobsen, founder of the Carlsberg brewery, to celebrate its 150th anniversary. This year, it's a tribute to eight famous Danish musicians.
Although glogg is a Swedish invention, the Danes have taken to it with gusto. It is red wine served steaming hot and heavily spiced with raisins, almonds, cinnamon sticks and cloves which have been soaked in aquavit. Personally I found "just the one" glogg ideal anti-freeze following a mermaid photocall.
Then it was the excellent julebryg - Christmas beer brewed by Tuborg and Carlsberg for the festive season. A darker lager than the conventional light yellow colour, it is most moreish.