Dubbed as the hip and urban centre and where I am staying was todays slice of Copenhagen. First we went for a champagne reception hosted by Founder, silver fox and genius Thomas Fluerquin.
Expect the unexpected. I’ve got to keep slapping myself and remember I am at a 5 day street party and we are told to come to a champagne reception. They must think we are fools! Something smells like polish sausage.

Of course, after cautiously drinking champagne a good looking Danish boy whistles, the crowd is hurried into the main lobby, where 5 women in leotards and wigs are attempting a dance routine. A marching band is behind them on the stairs. It all happened so quickly, glasses were ripped out of hands, the guy carrying the bands flag was tackled to the floor in his hotpants (testicles very much on show) By the women, biting and scratching him. The band integrates into the audience; something crawling on the floor is attempting to bring me down with them. I clung onto a Colum for dear life.

Next the devil bus, the 666, driven by a Rasta and fuelled by Heineken not petrol. Half an hour out the city we arrive at an underground station with a massive amount of land. A 2 hour pop up party proceeds.

We get back on the bus, Felt like we were at the Circ Du Soleil. Tongues waggling, trombone player round my waist, dancers with their hips on turbo speed.

As we dismounted the bus Helle told me they had found out 2 years ago that the adorable Rasta who had driven us there and back, didn’t have a driving licence.

Hey, what happens on the bus, stays on the bus. (Ha!).