Once I was in a train station in Bulgaria and everything was going wrong.
The train my friend and I wanted was about four days late, there were no boards indicating arrivals or departures and what staff I could find just stared blankly at me when I asked, in English, when our train might be arriving.
After an hour or so of wandering round muttering to myself in an increasingly despairing fashion, I returned to my friend and roared: ‘Hitler had a point. STANDARDISATION.’
My friend, well used to my outbursts, just rolled his eyes and went back to his bong.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am no Nazi.
I am not espousing the political views of history’s most tyrannical psychopath but sometimes, when confronted by chronic inefficiency, I start to think it might be best if rigorous central planning was enforced.
Which is partly why I am so enamoured of the Danes and their public services.
Things work there.
Herded like meat onto a sweltering train carriage bound for London this morning – no seat, no air conditioning – I cursed the country of my birth for the first time.
People often ask me what the Danes are like and my descriptions are becoming more and more reverential.
At first I just said they were an intelligent, largely friendly people, not much different to us.
Now, though, they are Aryan supermen. Uniformly beautiful and supremely gifted at social and political administration.
It’s easy to bash the UK though and deep down I’m still a patriot but that is why it hurts so much to see our inefficiencies so glaringly exposed.
It’s a shame Britain’s days of imperial conquest are over. If I had my way we’d invade and claim the land as our own.
I can but dream.