Danish pastry

‘Wake up and smell the hummus’ this is the sort of wit and wisdom that Nancy can now deliver. She is a child of her time and place - a dizzying amalgam of a private eye cartoon strip and the death of western civilisation. But more joyous. Apart from the occasional harrumph which sees her descend to the third circle of hell and behave like a devilpig crossed with a teenager.

The exclamation ‘oh my goodness’ or ‘oh my god’ is to be heard in even the most quotidian situation. Nancy what flavour ice cream would like? Oh my goodness. Will you have a cake or a pie? Oh my God. Et cetera ad infinitum. It can get a little tiring but she still has the capacity to be truly ace, as evidenced by the hummus quippery, when not being subjected to a series of calamitous events that no one else on earth has ever faced or will again.

However, she has learnt the bornholm national anthem, experienced sea sickness, swum in the Baltic and developed, against all the odds, a taste for smoked herring. All while continuing to shun her Danish uncle in a rather doctrinaire way. You couldn't make it up.

Year two looms large and hopefully the return of routine, the joys of the Michaelmas term and banishment of sugary Oblivion will return unto us a Nancy free of the harrumphing and full of hummusean wit.

Enjoy.