It’s the light that first strikes as different. It often carries a bluish grey cast that colours things a bit like an old reproduction of Van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Cyprus, that’s been up on the wall too long so the yellow has mostly faded and the image rendered mainly in shades of greenish cyan. Then, while your senses, in response to daylight’s waning strength, tell you it must be getting along to dinner time, your watch informs that it’s already past bedtime. And, while pacing around, in the bit between 3 and 4am, you become aware of a lightening of the edge of the sky outside the big window. Jet-lag offers an insider’s view of just how long can be the Danish day.
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