Before we moved to Denmark we dreamed of summer houses in the summer and snow in the winter.

Both dreams ended up coming true.

This morning we awoke to see a sky heavy with snow.

Big flakes the size of postage stamps.

We got a good, two-hour pelting.

We decided to go out in the middle of the blizzard. Right down to the sea front. Which is only about 500 metres away.

What a spectacle. The sea was angry with choppy waves and all the boats were in their sheds.

Every Dane was properly dressed from head to toe in waterproof fabric. Wellies were standard issue.

A group of locals were sitting underneath a tree sipping Varm Chocolat.

Daisy’s cheeks were rosier than a Californian apple.

On the way back to the apartment there were a couple of stranded yellow bendy buses. But otherwise, everyone just carried on regardless. Winter tyres were being fitted and steps swept and salted.

Daisy had a birthday party to go to so we had to drive a few kilometres just as the snow stopped falling.

All the cycle lanes had been cleared before the roads were tackled. We must have passed over twenty snow ploughs of varying sizes.

As we wait for Daisy to get back from her party, a flat bed truck has just arrived outside. Two men leap out and clear the snow away from all around the street litter bins, throw some grit around them like confetti over a bride, then drive off.

This country is used to winters and snow.