Tales of Travel

Blogspot decided to show up on my computer in Swedish, and honestly, it wasn't as surprising as it should have been. It's all part of my slow acclimation to a culture where--surprise!--everything isn't in English.

All right.  Let me start at the beginning...or better yet, the middle.  While waiting six hours for my plane to Copenhagen, I finished a book and ate an entire bag of chocolate-covered pretzels.  Then the flight happened.  I had an entire row to myself, which meant I could stretch across it.  Thank you, God!  (For those of you that haven't seen me, I'm 5'11 in flats.  Finding jeans is one of the banes of my existence.)  Even though it was so late (ten o'clock at night), the flight attendants served dinner and drinks.  I passed on the food, but did have some white wine while I watched part The Holiday.  I'm not sure if I should have felt sophisticated or sadly single.

Sleeping on a plane is an experience not unlike sleeping on a charter bus.  It's not really possible to do comfortably.  There was a period of time where I was out, but it could have been anywhere from forty-five minutes to four hours. The best part of the flight was the screen that showed where our plane was in relation to the earth.  We crossed over Canada to Iceland, then across Scotland to Denmark.  I refrained from taking pictures of Copenhagen during the landing, because I didn't want to be that tourist-y.  (Don't worry, though--I've more than made up for it within the past day.)

I had a minor freak-out at the airport because I thought my suitcase had gotten lost.  Then I recognized other people from Chicago that were waiting around for their bags, and I relaxed a teensy bit.  Still, one of the most elated feelings I've ever experienced was seeing Elton glide down the conveyor belt.

Now is the time I should detail not knowing how to buy a train ticket, getting lost in the station, and accidentally ending up in Norway because I got on the wrong train.  However, none of that happened. (I know.  I was shocked too.)  The nice thing is that the airport and train station in Copenhagen are connected and most everyone speaks English.  After conferring with a very pleasant British man en route to Malmo, Sweden, I took his advice and got on that train. Once I got there, I hunted for the platform to Vaxjo for a good twenty minutes.  I talked to a few people because I couldn't find where I was supposed to board, and it turns out that I was on the wrong side of the tracks...literally.  I finally found it with a good ten minutes to spare before my train.  Then it was smooth sailing all the way to Vaxjo.  Frankly, I'm still in shock that I made it!

My first class starts Monday at 5:30 (P.M., not A.M.....just to clarify).  There was an introductory meeting for it yesterday at 5:00, but unfortunately, I wasn't even to the city yet.  I should be able to catch up.  Anyway, Monday's a long time away!