Blekinge in southern Sweden, late February. The place is called Korsanäs, ten minutes from Ronneby. For the first time in living memory, it has been a real winter here. There is a foot of snow on the ground, and a dreary darkness looms over the brick-red cottage. The cold from the sea is biting, but the cheerful crackling fire helps keep cabin fever at bay for a few days. The new shipment of books from Amazon is also good medicine. But in the end we break down. We need oxygen.

So we abandon the country and head to town, in this case Ronneby Brunn’s spa, which according to the ad gives you “Time for pleasure”. Situated in beautiful Brunnsparken, whose greenery is presently rather chilled and covered in snow, the place provides room to breathe – and an odd sense of cosmopolitan peasantness.

A quick show of hands among the guests indicates there are a lot of people who travelled here from all across Sweden, as well as a few foreigners, or wh...