For a second it looks like my travelling companion lets his hand slip over his knife. Jens Kjaer Khnudsen wears it on the right side of his belt, and he appears to move towards it as we step in. We enter the ski hotel restaurant, which is like stepping back 50 years in time. Here, smokers are not considered pariahs and the focused enjoyment of alcohol is the principal diversion. It is like visiting a time when lager was something that could be drunk straight from the bottle and gender roles were sharply divided.