Distance gives perspective. So the ten months after my return from Sweden were a good time for me to look back at the visit. It was a perfect trip as i was able to visit all the places i had dreamed of and also some which i had never dreamed. As i used to sit on my bed and think about the experiences that i had, i could almost remember every turn i took and every flash of thought that ran through my mind as i visited those places of my dream. Just as i thought things couldn't get any better, they actually did. I was going on another trip to Sweden come the new year.
A familiar excitement gripped the mind as it wrestled with the thought of making another trip, it was a feeling of déjà vu. The preperations went off well as i knew exactly what things to pack. And then came the D-day and the obligatory but confused good byes to friends and family when you dont know whether to be happy or sad.
Since this was my second trip i was more relaxed than last time. Spoke more confidently at the ticket counter whereas last time i had difficulty in getting the words out of my mouth thanks to my excitement. After the routine immigration and security checks i finally reached the port where my plane was stationed.
I was a good 2 hours early so i sat back on a chair and started to observe the people who were getting ready to board the flight. A serious looking German girl sat next to me writing furiously on her notepad about her experiences in 'kerala'. Meanwhile an Italian family settled in front of me with one of the ladies arguing something excitedly, her hands and eyes speaking more than her mouth. Adjacent to me an Indian girl sat with a laptop reading intently a presentation titled 'Customer Relationship Management'. This is what stereotypes are all about i thought, the stoic German, the excited Italian and the studious Indian!
As all waitings go the two hour wait took a long time to finish and finally when it did i found myself in the belly of the Boeing 747 on route to Frankfurt. The night went off uneventfully with me again failing to get a decent sleep on an aircraft like last time as i kept looking at the red line on the monitor as it traversed the world map onto the final destination - Frankfurt.
As morning dawned Frankfurt arrived. The last time i had landed here it was Summer time and the view was spectacular - the best that i had ever seen. Sadly this time as it was winter the view was a bit dull. Once the plane landed a good half an hour late, i was woken off my flashback by the thought that i just had an hour's time to catch my connecting flight to Sweden. Here is where my (mis)adventure started.
I knew one hour was too less a time to get out of an airport as big as Frankfurt, still i was hopeful. I reached the first hurdle at the immigration counter where the non-european section of the queue in which i was hardly moved. Finally my turn came and funny enough the same immigration official whom i had met the last time when i passed through Frankfurt 15 months ago was at the end of the queue. As i was thinking to myself if it would be silly of me to think that he would recognize me the officer started smiling at me and handed me the passport back and let me through without asking any questions. I had no time to humor myself with this incident as the clocked poked me and said that i just had half an hour to go.
I knew i was behind the clock as i rushed towards security. To my horror the queue there was even more daunting as the recent terrorist threat perception across European airports had made the security very stringent. This just isn't my day i said to myself. As my turn at the security came i realized how thorough the check was as the guard even check my shoe soles as he finally let me pass after a thorough checking. I hastily looked at my watch. I had exactly 15 minutes to rush to my port - A40 - which to my continuing bad luck was at the very end of the terminal. Even Usain Bolt will have a tough time beating the clock here i thought to myself.
I started my run as i prepared myself like a 100m sprinter with one strategy. Get your head down and run like crazy. And i did run like crazy with the trolley of my hand luggage trying its best to keep pace with me. As i ran i sensed another couple which were running like me and funny enough they spoke in Swedish and i realized that both of us must be after the same flight. I smiled to myself thinking that i wasn't the only one with a predicament.
As i reached A20 i checked the watch again. 5 minutes to go it said as i took a sharp turn into a walk-way. All along i kept rattling excuse-mes and pardon-mes as the good people gave way for me after seeing my pace of running. Another slide off a walk-way put me onto A32 as the count down became 3 minutes. This is going to be touch-and-go i thought. A couple of more exhausting minutes later i sighted the A40 port and i felt it was like the last lap of the field as i strained all the little muscle i had hoping to get across the line. As the clock ticked down i finally reached A40 panting like a marathon runner who had just finished the race. I was completely out of breath as i let the boarding pass do the talking as i handed it over to the flight attendant. She directed me to the flight and no sooner had i entered the plane the pilot sounded the message 'Boarding complete'. Now hows that for drama. Once inside i sank into my seat as bewildered people around me wondered what made me sweat in this winter of winters.
All the running at Frankfurt had exhausted me and the entire duration of my Swedish flight went in recovering from the adventure. No sooner had i recovered the plane descended into a cloudy , foggy Gothenburg sky. This was again a contrast to the clear skies of last time as visibility had reduced to almost zero. Finally the plane landed after giving a few nervy bumps and i had finally made it to my destination.
So as i write this i look forward to the next few months and to further adventures in Euroland. Hopefully they will be much happier and less strenuous than the one i have started with above. So hoping for the best and watch this space for more!
Since this was my second trip i was more relaxed than last time. Spoke more confidently at the ticket counter whereas last time i had difficulty in getting the words out of my mouth thanks to my excitement. After the routine immigration and security checks i finally reached the port where my plane was stationed.
I was a good 2 hours early so i sat back on a chair and started to observe the people who were getting ready to board the flight. A serious looking German girl sat next to me writing furiously on her notepad about her experiences in 'kerala'. Meanwhile an Italian family settled in front of me with one of the ladies arguing something excitedly, her hands and eyes speaking more than her mouth. Adjacent to me an Indian girl sat with a laptop reading intently a presentation titled 'Customer Relationship Management'. This is what stereotypes are all about i thought, the stoic German, the excited Italian and the studious Indian!
As all waitings go the two hour wait took a long time to finish and finally when it did i found myself in the belly of the Boeing 747 on route to Frankfurt. The night went off uneventfully with me again failing to get a decent sleep on an aircraft like last time as i kept looking at the red line on the monitor as it traversed the world map onto the final destination - Frankfurt.
As morning dawned Frankfurt arrived. The last time i had landed here it was Summer time and the view was spectacular - the best that i had ever seen. Sadly this time as it was winter the view was a bit dull. Once the plane landed a good half an hour late, i was woken off my flashback by the thought that i just had an hour's time to catch my connecting flight to Sweden. Here is where my (mis)adventure started.
I knew one hour was too less a time to get out of an airport as big as Frankfurt, still i was hopeful. I reached the first hurdle at the immigration counter where the non-european section of the queue in which i was hardly moved. Finally my turn came and funny enough the same immigration official whom i had met the last time when i passed through Frankfurt 15 months ago was at the end of the queue. As i was thinking to myself if it would be silly of me to think that he would recognize me the officer started smiling at me and handed me the passport back and let me through without asking any questions. I had no time to humor myself with this incident as the clocked poked me and said that i just had half an hour to go.
I knew i was behind the clock as i rushed towards security. To my horror the queue there was even more daunting as the recent terrorist threat perception across European airports had made the security very stringent. This just isn't my day i said to myself. As my turn at the security came i realized how thorough the check was as the guard even check my shoe soles as he finally let me pass after a thorough checking. I hastily looked at my watch. I had exactly 15 minutes to rush to my port - A40 - which to my continuing bad luck was at the very end of the terminal. Even Usain Bolt will have a tough time beating the clock here i thought to myself.
I started my run as i prepared myself like a 100m sprinter with one strategy. Get your head down and run like crazy. And i did run like crazy with the trolley of my hand luggage trying its best to keep pace with me. As i ran i sensed another couple which were running like me and funny enough they spoke in Swedish and i realized that both of us must be after the same flight. I smiled to myself thinking that i wasn't the only one with a predicament.
As i reached A20 i checked the watch again. 5 minutes to go it said as i took a sharp turn into a walk-way. All along i kept rattling excuse-mes and pardon-mes as the good people gave way for me after seeing my pace of running. Another slide off a walk-way put me onto A32 as the count down became 3 minutes. This is going to be touch-and-go i thought. A couple of more exhausting minutes later i sighted the A40 port and i felt it was like the last lap of the field as i strained all the little muscle i had hoping to get across the line. As the clock ticked down i finally reached A40 panting like a marathon runner who had just finished the race. I was completely out of breath as i let the boarding pass do the talking as i handed it over to the flight attendant. She directed me to the flight and no sooner had i entered the plane the pilot sounded the message 'Boarding complete'. Now hows that for drama. Once inside i sank into my seat as bewildered people around me wondered what made me sweat in this winter of winters.
All the running at Frankfurt had exhausted me and the entire duration of my Swedish flight went in recovering from the adventure. No sooner had i recovered the plane descended into a cloudy , foggy Gothenburg sky. This was again a contrast to the clear skies of last time as visibility had reduced to almost zero. Finally the plane landed after giving a few nervy bumps and i had finally made it to my destination.
So as i write this i look forward to the next few months and to further adventures in Euroland. Hopefully they will be much happier and less strenuous than the one i have started with above. So hoping for the best and watch this space for more!
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