My Danish relatives mean I was lucky enough to get a real taste of the southernmost Scandinavian country when I was younger and I remember enjoying melt-in-the-mouth smørbergis rolls, moist æblekage (apple cake) and treat-laden smørrebrød rye bread - as well as delights of the streaky sort.

So when I planned a break there again in March, I was eager to see if my fond memories held true.

A traditional family Easter in the town of Randers, on Jutland, where daffodils poked through a thick layer of snow, was the first port of call,

One of the many things the Danes do well is eat and we enjoyed seemingly endless courses of bread, salami, smoky cheeses, ham, fish, cakes and quince tea as well as bracing shots of the caraway seed-infused Danish schnapps, Aalborg Akvavit.

The family scene captured a Danish word which for me sums up life there for many. Originally coined as a response to the long, dark winters, ‘hygge’ is widely understood to mean ‘cosy’ and describes the national desire for warmth and comfort.

Hygge has been present in all the Danish homes I’ve ever visited from the widespread use of candles and heart motifs to the stylish but above all, practical furniture and other aspects of interior design.

We visited the birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen and the fantastic design Trapholt museum in Kolding and breathed in the sea air of Sønderborg, just miles away from Germany on the south coast of Als.

Then it was off to the relatively bright lights of beautiful Copenhagen where we had rented an apartment in the Frederiksberg district.

Despite having cousins who live there, I hadn't properly explored the capital and the two-and-a-bit days we had there weren't nearly enough.

I loved the sense of spaciousness and the exciting buzz created by the style-conscious, more-often-than-not beautiful residents who cycle around the capital.

Parks, shops and a good mix of tourist attractions also help make up for the Danish prices - a pint of lager costs around £4 and you can expect to fork out around 100 and 150 krone (£10 to £15) for a main meal at a decent restaurant.

We visited Christiania, the former military camp which was taken over in 1971 by squatters who declared their own 'free state'. Despite growing pressure from campaigners for it to be shut down, people still live there without paying rent or tax.

On the rainy afternoon of our visit, two middle-aged women drunkenly argued as others stood around oil drum fires, smoking and drinking.