Some highlights to tide you over:
I did, in fact, get my Swedish massage from a Swedish guy. Although he was named Robert, not Jens.
I almost cried in a fitting room while trying on swimsuits.
I used Molton Brown face lotion on my feet (and not a small amount of it either) because I thought they needed some TLC after all the walking.
I found some proper sour candy here (England has NONE) and ate so much of it that I rendered my tongue incapable of taste and broke the permanent retainer on the backside of my bottom teeth.
I was so proud of myself for bargaining 50 kronor off the asking price of a Rosenthal teacup trio at a flea market but when I told Jason, his response was something like "Pshaw. I would have offered her 50 kronor total." Well color me deflated.
And now, I must bid you adieu. There's a Toulouse-Lautrec exhibition on at the National Museum and then I have absolutely nothing planned except wandering aimlessly, occasionally stopping for a cappucino and some light reading at a cafe.
Perhaps Jason will have to abandon me for a work dinner this evening, in which case I'll probably try to do some actual blogging then...