The really amazing thing about being someone who loves to travel is realizing how much you actually hate to travel after 8 hours in the same small, uncomfortable seat on the same plane flying over the same ocean. The novelty of flying over Greenland and Iceland wears off very quickly, and for all I loved visiting Sweden on my two previous trips to Stockholm, all I wanted while changing planes in Arlanda airport was for everyone to quit speaking Swedish and allow me to sleep.
Altogether, I spent about 21 hours straight traveling Saturday and Sunday. I was up rather late the night before, packing my worldly possessions into boxes and moving out of the apartment I had been living in for almost a year, and packing my two suitcases that are supposed to contain everything I'd need for the next two years. I got about 5 hours of sleep heading into Saturday morning. Up at 7 a.m., at my sister's by 8, and left for the airport by 9. We got there a little before 11 a.m., and I started to check my bags in and get my ticket. The fact that I had to sit on my second suitcase the night before to get it to close should have been a good indication that I had packed too much in it... but I didn't think much about it at the time, I had just wanted to be done and get some sleep. As it turns out... checked luggage may weigh only 50 lbs. to avoid a $200 fee. Over 70 lbs. the fee jumps to $400. My second suitcase weighed in at a little over 71 lbs. Funnily enough, when the lady asked me if my bags were 50 lbs. or less I picked up the first one and curled it. I said, "Yep, that one's good." since I knew I couldn't curl more than 50 lbs. She looked at me funny, but when I tried to curl the second one and said, "Ah crap, this one is too heavy." She then pointed out there was a scale 2 feet from where I was curling my luggage. Turned out I was right, 44 pounds for the first bag, 71 for the second. I then took it aside and had to unpack 20 pounds of crap. The lady gave me a plastic bag to put the "extra" stuff in. It was harder than I thought to get rid of 20 lbs. of clothes. I have traveled internationally several times and never been over on the baggage, so this was a new experience for me. 20 minutes later, after going through everything in public, I weighed my bags in at 49.5 pounds, and 50.5 pounds respectively. I also got 2 carry-on items... and though the rules say you may only pack 16 pounds in them... I'm pretty sure I got away with about 40 pounds.
I got through security, and settled in to wait for my flights. First flight was Kansas City to Chicago, took about an hour and a half. I had plenty of room, and sat next to a guy from the Netherlands who was flying to Amsterdam to defend his thesis. We talked a bit, he was in Kansas to visit his sister who was doing a year exchange there. I think he left Kansas underwhelmed, but he was polite about it. I don't blame him, the Midwest isn't very exciting compared to international traveling in Europe... I can only get so excited about cows, corn, or sunflowers as far as the eye can see, so I don't hold it against anyone else when they aren't giddy in my home region. I told him I was going to Germany to study Linguistics, and he admitted that he spoke some German, and that he had been to Germany several times. I asked what he thought, and he said he liked West Germany, as he had been to Cologne several times, but that he wasn't a fan of East Germany, as the yearly conferences he had been attending in Cologne had been moved to Leipzig. I stated that it was amazing to me that even 20 years after the reunification, there were still great differences between former East and West Germany. He agreed, and proceeded to tell me about Leipzig and East Germany... Leipzig is a place I've spent a few weeks on a few occasions. As he was telling me about shrines to Hitler with flowers and such that he had seen there, I mentioned this little fact that I had been to Leipzig, to which he replied, "Yeah, yeah, the city is fine... but if you have to get gas outside the city..." and he proceeded to tell me how dangerous and scary it was. At this point, I decided I was done talking to him. I understand there is probably some lingering resentment from the invasion of Holland in WWII, and it's probably stronger in small towns like where Martijn is from, but this felt a lot like a guy pissing on my foot and telling me it was raining. I can't say for sure that he didn't see the things he said he saw, but I think it very unlikely.
Let me backtrack a bit... right after we took off from KC, as the plane was climbing and they started to pressurize the cabin, my right ear wouldn't pop. The pressure built until I thought my ear would explode, but of course it never did, I simply became dizzy. I thought the plane was turning, though in reality it was flying straight, my dizzy head was spinning. I tried looking out the window, and yawning, and every other trick I could think of for dizziness or a pressurized ear; nothing worked. I started to get sick to my stomach, and I realized that when I opened my eyes it looked like the plane was doing barrel rolls. All I could do was sit and close my eyes... finally my ear popped, painfully, after which it burned for a while... but within 5 minutes the would had stopped spinning. So it was at least halfway through the flight that I was able to relax and talk to the guy next to me.
I made it through Chicago without too much trouble... if you don't count the 4 times they put my computer backpack through security. In case you have ever wondered... they don't like it when you have 2 computers, 4 external hard drives, or various other things packed in your carry-on. They especially don't like it when you have a circuit board (motherboard to my desktop computer) bubble wrapped in your luggage and about 20 batteries in the pouches.
After that, I made it on board my second flight, Chicago to Sweden. The first couple of hours were fine, but after dinner, I wanted to sleep. The entire cabin shut off their lights, and got quiet, and tried to sleep. But not the woman behind me... her reading light was on the entire trip, which meant it shined on me for most of the trip. Also, she must have had a lot to say, because she spoke in Swedish the entire time. 245 people on the flight, and the one behind me is the only one that didn't want to sleep. So, I didn't get any sleep. Well, my brain didn't, after 3 hours my butt fell asleep... the kind of burning numb sleep it gets from sitting too long in one position.
Made it to Arlanda airport in Stockholm, where I saw a fairytale play-place for children. I was tired, grumpy, and probably more than a little angry... but it was the perfect thing to see. I liked it enough that I stopped, dug out my camera from my over-packed carry-on, and took pictures. It even put a smile on my face. It's those little moments when you realize the world is an okay place that I love.
Made it to Berlin, Andreas was late and my flight was early. I stood by the taxis outside for a while, but eventually went back inside to try to find a pay phone to call him. As I was walking to exchange my money, I saw him at another desk, asking the guy to page me in the airport. I snuck up behind him and tried to hit him with my suitcase... but he turned around too soon. We packed his car with my things, and left for Gusow, where his parents live and where I stay to get over my jet lag... they're my family when I'm in Germany. Meanwhile... Andy got lost in Berlin, so the 1 1/2 hour trip to Gusow turned into 2 1/2 hours. I was starving meanwhile, having only had one airplane meal in 24 hours, so we stopped to get some genuine German food... a Doener. :D
It was good, and we eventually made it to Gusow. And here I am now, a few days later, writing this and trying to get used to being 7 hours in the future.
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