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August 19, 2004
Copenhagen
Its 9:36 a.m. local time (or 3:36 a.m. EST), and I've made it into Sweden. The rest of the flight to Copenhagen was uneventful—I didn't get to see The Station Agent because I fell asleep, and dozed on and off for the rest of the flight. We were slightly delayed, arriving a few minutes before 8 a.m. I sailed through customs (which was basically a man in a glass cubicle stamping my passport), and made my way to baggage claim.
While waiting for my baggage, I exchanged a large wad of cash for Danish and Swedish kronar. I tried to exchange it into Euro, but got a scathing lecture from the currency exchange employee about how none of the Scandinavian countries accept Euros. I wasn't sure if I would need any money in Denmark, so I got $40 in Danish kronar just to be sure, and got the rest in Swedish kronar.
I picked up my baggage, attached the two suitcases and piled my carry-on on top (I'm pretty sure I could now easily capture gold in Olympic weight-lifting), and exited the arrivals area through the "nothing to declare" lane. It was easy…too easy. I'm beginning to wonder if I missed a crucial step in the arrivals procedure.
At any rate, I followed a bunch of people to the train station, which was directly attached to the airport (how nice!). I bought a ticket for Karlskrona, and found myself on the next train, only having to wait 5 minutes at the platform (very, very nice!). I managed to haul my bags onto the train, only realizing that I was mistakenly in business class after it was too late. Fortunately, the train stopped 20 minutes later in Malmo, where I had to move all my stuff to the back of the train, which was the only part continuing on to Kristianstad (which will connect me with the train to Karlskrona). So now I'm on the 2nd train of the day, in with the peasants.
My initial thoughts on Sweden: it looks a lot like Pennsylvania. All except for a brief stretch where I would have sworn I was on the Metro Red Line between Rhode Island Avenue and Union Station (industrial buildings, homeless people next to the train tracks, etc.). The only main difference so far has been the plethora of windmills in Copenhagen. And, of course, the ocean.
It's cooler here, only about 70 degrees, but REALLY humid. And after hauling everything I own back and forth and back again, I'm looking none too fresh. I suppose I should appreciate that my toes have finally thawed after the plane ride.
