Thoughts while returning to Sweden

Thoughts "while returning to Sweden" is meant literally in this case. Thoughts during the four hour journey from home to home. Leaving home, coming home - strange thing, two homes barely connected to each other at all. Two different worlds.

The journey stars at the airport in Luxembourg. Tannoy announcements in English, German and Luxembourgian. Luxembourgian will always sound strange. Even stranger than Dutch. Even stranger than Danish. (No offense in both cases ...) Actually, Danish sounds not as strange as many people (especially in Sweden ...) say. Actually, it does not really sound strange at all. Unfamiliar, yes, but not strange. This I realise on the bus from the terminal to the plane. Two elderly gentlemen with only hand luggage who seemed to return home from a business trip are talking Danish. And they are quietly laughing all the time. Friendly people, the Danish ... (No, of course you cannot deduce this from two friendly gentlemen. But I like to believe that the Danish as well as the Swedes are friendly people.)

On the way to our plane I see the already described turboprops which I do not want to fly with. (See a few articles before.) We arrive at our plane - no turboprops, "normal" machine - greeting in Luxembourgian. ("Moien.") Security briefing in English and French. No Luxembourgian this time. Maybe not too unreasonable on a flight from Luxembourg to Copenhagen. The stewardess speaks French now. I scrape all my French together to successfully accept a sandwich and a coke. Maybe not too successful though as later on the stewardess will address me in English ...

We arrive in Copenhagen. The same people (stewardess and captain) who spoke French and English before speak Danish and English now. It even could have been Swedish but it strikes me every time that in a few hundred thousand Euro airplane the speakers still sound as if they are from the 19th century ... (Same in railway sattions by the way ...)

Four countries in four hours. Almost as good as Europe in ten days.

We get out of the plane. Kastrup is slightly larger than Luxembourg and so we have to run through the ehole building to get our luggage. The advantage is that our luggage is already running circles when we arrive. The railway station is very close now as well. I rumble down the staircase and enter the quite dark station. The next train arrives in six minutes. Then the mad part of the journey begins. Where is the ticket machine? Nowhere to be seen. I rumble further down the rail. Finally. A dark room, two strange guys inside, two ticket machines. I hack my desired destination into the machine. Time is running, it gets hectic. The machine asks me onehundredthousand extraneous question, does not accept my traffic card which usually makes buying tickets very easy and quick. Not this time, not in Denmark as it seems. Next card, 20 crowns more than on the way from Lund to Copenhagen. Does not matter, must go fast. Another onehundredthousand extraneous questions, the train is already waiting, the porter blows his whistle. I rip my ticket from the machine and badger towards the closest train door. "Out of order." Wtf?! Next door, I fight my way through 20 Indians (exchange students I suppose somewhere at the edge of my train stricken mind) and finally reach a seat.

"Seems to be the same with all train companies, no difference in other countries.", I think before I realise that a friendly gentleman in one of the suites is trying to talk to me. That is unexpected. Everybody in Sweden told me that you do not talk to people on the bus or the train. Never. As he shows me where to put my suitcase I do not bother and sit opposed to him. Still confused by Luxembourgians talking Danish and Danish talking French I thank him in always working English before I realise that I can do better. The Indians are discussing with the porter where to put there 45 suitcases and start to rearrange the whole train. I do not mind, they do not need help, so I concentrate on nothing in particular.

We cross the Öresund Bridge. Next station, Hyllie. Half of the women outside are already blonde (not kidding). The tannoy announcement is in Swedish. I even understand what the train conductor is trying to tell us. "Utgång till vänster." I am back in Sweden. Four hours after leaving home I am home again.