As we wandered around the city, the logic of Danish design was everywhere. Old warehouses and historic buildings repurposed rather than replaced, while new architecture follows the same principles of scale, proportion, and materials as its neighbours. Nearly half of commutes are made by bicycle, ferrying groceries and children, through all weathers. It shows too in the way Danes dress. Practical footwear, layered clothing, an understated confidence that feels embedded.

The whole city seemed to take part in the festival. White balloons marked open venues, with events from early morning until dusk, everything was easily walkable. As Brits, we don't mind a small queue, but there wasn't one to be found and we covered far more ground in a day than we expected. Venues were often buildings not usually open to the public, historic theatres, museums, and private apartments, many leading out to a courtyard where you could stay a little while longer and enjoy coffee, summer pastries and buns with cheese.

Scent was a recurring theme, but nowhere more so than at FRAMA. Ten years of St Paul's Apothecary meant it took centre stage. Contraptions and water wheels dispersed fragrance through the room, turning something usually invisible into the main event.

BAINA explored bathing as repetition, where necessity and ceremony sit side by side. Historical bathing objects were placed alongside newly commissioned works, among them a double-sided mirror, a footed salt dish and spoon, and new home fragrance.

Spaces Within founders Nadja and Karin describe their solid brass cabinet hardware and hooks as jewellery. Made in Italy, the weight of the brass and the way the handles sit in your hand reveal the precision of its making. The patina is not a defect, they explained. Each piece evolves through touch and use, shaped by its surroundings. No props were needed. The installation was carried by the works alone.

Tekla took over a room in Charlottenborg Palace, a building associated with Danish Neoclassicism. Patchwork quilts hung alongside wooden box beds. Pouches of lavender scented the air, while seats invited visitors into a calm soundscape composed for the space.

&Drape collaborated with Studio Vraco to transform their showroom into a lived-in home. An open window let the curtains billow, while fabric suspended from the ceiling moved with the breeze. A walnut and travertine coffee table sat alongside stools in lacquered walnut and a brushed steel vase.

Modern Metier presented The Jewellery Box, a collaboration with Leazeroil and European designers including Szymon Keller. Set in a relaxed dining room, candlesticks, vases, furniture and objects were arranged as if in the middle of a dinner party, lit by Vigne pendants.

New Works' exhibition, Meditations in an Emergency, explored sound and its impact in space through a sequence of rooms combining materials, furniture, light and music. Moving through the installation, each room changed in atmosphere and material.

Rye Sleep chose a car park as their location, setting up corner vignettes, each with a different bed frame, mattress and props. Books, board games, art and turntables reimagined the bedroom as a whole environment rather than just a place to rest.

Fritz Hansen presented Sound Club: individual tables, each with a different chair, a Technics turntable and headphones, where visitors could play exclusive vinyl. A back door opened into a courtyard where Korean DJ Oviduct, one of the album's artists, was playing live, with drinks, food, and an open invitation to stay. Which we did.

Caia Leifsdotter teamed up with Copengahen based accessory brand Kone in an intimate setting where fashion and interiors merge.

We made a loose plan each morning but found ourselves following the white balloons as we left each venue, ending up somewhere we hadn't planned. One of those detours took us to the 18th century Court Theatre, hired by BOMMA for Fragments of Light. A dancer performed under their light display of changing temperatures. It was our favourite, and we found it by chance. Spontaneity, it turned out, was its own kind of inspiration.

By afternoon, other venues had become something else. DJs, champagne, the energy of a private party that everyone happened to be invited to.

On our last evening, we joined the organisers for one of the festival's long table dinners, a Summer Garden setting moved inside the Designmuseum when the rain came down, but no less beautiful for it. Long tables were laden with sharing plates and drinks. Strangers sat side by side and talked, designers who had travelled within Denmark and from around the world, some hunting for new suppliers, others simply for inspiration.

We didn't check what others were posting until we sat in the airport on the way home. Plenty missed, but no regrets. Next year, we're staying longer.