Scott's trip to Sweden

So much has happened in the last week that I'm already way behind in this blog. I guess I'll start with the basics. The movers came on Monday, February 25, and did a whirlwind tour of my apartment. They boxed up everything in sight, loaded incredibly quickly, then left and offered a repeat performance at Miranda's apartment. It took about five hours for them to completely empty our places. Pretty impressive if you ask me. It would have taken me about three days to do the same work in my apartment, and unless Miranda was really focused on packing, I don't know if she could have ever finished boxing up her apartment.

For the most part there isn't much to tell, but there is one thing worth mentioning. The movers brought two moving trucks to each of our residences. A large moving truck for all of our stuff that we were placing in storage, and a full-sized semi to haul off our air shipment to some shipping center. I had no idea that they had brought two trucks until Stu called to tell me there was a full-sized semi parked in front of our apartment building. I walked out front to see this as it seemed pretty funny for a semi to be parked in Minneapolis' tight residential streets. Not only did I find the funny sight, but I also found that the semi was double-parked beside a row of parallel parked cars. It must have been there for about forty-five minutes, or so I was told by the angry neighbors who were late for work due to their cars being blocked in. I informed the movers, they moved the truck, and as far as I know everything was fine.

Tuesday was spent packing, running some errands, cleaning, saying my goodbyes to the boys, cleaning and packing some more. Miranda and Stu came to my rescue and helped with the final steps of the cleaning process. I ended up with four bags that were way too large for one person to navigate through an airport. Now that I'm in Stockholm I realize that I should have sent two of those bags straight to storage, but oh well.

Woke up bright and early on Wednesday as Miranda took me out for breakfast before my flight. She wasn't able to drive me to the airport as I departed during the middle of her workday, but fortunately her sister Laurel was free. Upon arriving at the ticket counter I learned that my biggest bag weighed 76 pounds and any bags over 70 pounds cost $350 each. Three pair of jeans weigh six pounds, so it wasn't much to move, but I was out of room in my checked luggage, meaning those six pounds were added directly to my 70 pounds of carry-ons. Yeah, my bag and "personal item" broke the carry-on weight restrictions, but apparently the TSA and flight attendents felt sorry for the guy lugging 76 pounds on his back.


(The tiny black carry-on was repacked inside a bigger bag to create my second carry-on.)

Other than that, flights were smooth. Quick flight to Chicago, changed terminals, met a few people coming to Mora for the world-reknowned Vasaloppet, a 90 km cross country ski race with about 15,000 competitors (two Norwegian brothers took first and second this year, followed by a Swede in third), then had a seven and a half hour flight to Sweden, landing at about 7:30 in the morning on Thursday. The cabin was a little too warm, even though I was lightly dressed, and the movie selection was nothing to write home about. Luckily I had V for Vendetta on my PSP, totally awesome.

This is for Mark Schulte, if he ever reads this. The skiiers I met were from Mora, Minnesota and had a son graduate from St. Olaf in 2004. Going into this race he had the highest place finish of any American ever competing in the Vasaloppet at 73rd.

Stockholm'a Arlanda airport was a breeze to get through. After checking my passport I ducked into a bathroom to clean up, apply some deodorant and change shirts, grabbed my luggage, saw a "nothing to declare" sign, walked by an empty desk (apparently customs) and next thing I knew I was at the taxis. I doubled back, expecting a customs officer to rough me up, and even went to the information desk to ask if I needed to go through customs. They nice lady behind the desk responded "you already have, apparently they weren't interested in you." So I exchanged all of my cash for Kronor, grabbed a taxi and went straight to the office.

That's it for my story of leaving the U.S. and making the trip to Sweden. Pretty straightforward, not a lot of room for thoughts or cultural analysis. The journey really began when I got to Stockholm, but it's late here, so I'll save that for tomorrow's post.