Sunday August 15th turned out to be the perfect day to begin my journey. The fact that I was saying "goodbye see you later" to my wife Elizabeth on our 35th anniversary seemed perfectly appropriate somehow; we had greeted our 20th anniversary while in separate vehicles in an Iowa thunderstorm, saluting each other by walkie-talkie enroute from Colorado to Massachusetts as we relocated for my graduate school program. We pre-celebrated this time on Saturday night, by visiting a Rochester NY local foods resturaunt that we had wanted to try called Lento.
Thirty-five years ago, I made my first (and only previous) Atlantic crossing. I was an unmarried student going on a college year abroad to England, Jordan and Yemen; I spent my time studying Arabic and getting to know Westerners associated with Non Governmental Organizations (NGO's) doing medical work. (That experience was responsible for my later decision to enter the Nursing profession, in which I still labor as a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist - CRNA). I left the US August 26,1974 with traveler's checks and a red, white and blue backpack (which item earned me more grief and derision in an anti-American/anti Vietnam War world than you can imagine). The news of the day was dominated by President Richard Nixon's recent resignation announcement. I arrived at London Heathrow Airport on the busiest UK travel day of the year, Summer Bank Holiday and general chaos, surrounded by Brits returning from their final summer holiday of the year. I managed to follow scribbled instructions to travel to the northern London suburb of Finchley via the Tube (subway) and arrived, alone and exhausted. As you might expect, things have changed.
For this trip, my airline, hotel and car rental reservations had all been made in advance via the internet. I arrived stocked with credit and debit cards, my bank pre-warned I would be using them in Sweden, thus heading off any possible alarms over theft or fraud. While waiting in JFK airport, I was notified of flight status, including a gate change, by text message. I had the luxury of being met by my own personal guide, my daughter Celeste who has spent the last two months diligently studying the language and culture of our ancestors. Once in our Hertz rental car, a 5-speed manual transmission Ford Fiesta diesel, I mounted the GPS I brought wih me from home (thanks to wifey!!) that I had also preloaded with Garmin Nordic maps and updated firmware, and headed of comfortably and reasonably confidently toward our first destination, the medieval university town of Uppsala, just north of the Stockholm airport.
My daughter and I spent the afternoon touring this handsome old town, admiring its richly-hued buildings and cobblestone streets and squares, many painstakingly laid out in fan-shaped patterns of stones. The plastered buildings, public and private, ranged from deep, rich golds and sandy reds to moss green and even to the pink of the medieval castle towering over the city from a bluff. We window shopped as Celeste suggested clothing style points for me, several of which I look forward to adopting. I'm beginning to think we American men are casual to the point of being just sloppy. On the other hand, some of the styles I see on men in Sweden would definitely call one's masculinity into question in the States! We rounded up the afternoon with gelato and coffees before heading to our hotel.
Decent hotels in Sweden are not cheap. Come to think of it, not much in Sweden is cheap. I had booked a room at one in Uppsala of a chain called Scandic. While somewhat spartan (small room, narrow beds, no wi-fi, small towels and pillows) the beds were exceptionally comfortable, service was very friendly and the best ever hotel breakfast was included. The quality and freshness of the food put any American hotel breakfast I have had for years to shame.
You may wonder about jet lag. A long eastward bound flight is problematic; one arrives at one's detination to a local time (in my case) six hours later than body-clock time. I read up on the topic and found several approaches helpful. 1) I set my mind to the new time once on board the flight. I changed my watch immediately to Sweden time and tried to roll with it. 2) I rested up well in advance. For the two weeks prior to leaving, I slept every chance I got (I'm a world-class napper). This always worked well for me in the past when doing on-call shifts in the hospital. 3) I invested in a noise-cancelling headset. Not just for music, the headset electronically jams incoming sound so it pretty much goes away. Miraculous! And by searching C-Net reviews, I found an exceptional value. 4) No alcohol or caffeine on the flight. I did have tea prior to landing, and several cups of coffee my first day to prevent needing a nap. 5) Sleep in-flight if you can. I had at least a two hour quality nap, and two more hours of rest. This all helped me jump into my new time zone and just go to bed that first night and sleep eight hours and feel great in the AM.
Tuesday we'll meet the first of the "new" cousins, drive up north to Dalarna Province, the home of Swedish folk arts, and tour the Folk School that Celeste plans on attending in 2011.
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