SWEDISH SOJOURN, Day 13, July 2

Agneta, our guide, is also a taxi driver, and took about three different waves of our group to the Arlanda Airport in Stockholm the morning of July 2. The group we were in included Katie and Alma, two lovely sisters from Colorado who had gone with me to Skogskyrkogarden to visit Garbo's grave. It was a sunny morning, and we did fine until we reached a portion of the highway in which one lane was blocked for construction. That slowed us down, but not too significantly. However, once we were dropped off at Terminal 5, where we were going to fly SAS to Newark, the lines were daunting and Jenny began to grow increasingly frenetic and worried about getting on the plane. I kept telling her to calm down--that we were going to make it. It took awhile, and I could palpably feel her nervousness. It was not as if we were cutting the time close, although even I had a little worry about how congested the security lines could be. However, once we received our boarding passes and approached security, we saw that the lines were reasonable, and even Jenny started feeling hopeful. Eventually we reached Gate C107 after a considerable walk. In a few minutes, individual groups were called, and we boarded. No real views, as we were seated in the middle of the plane. It is really a necessity of mind over matter to try to put out of your mind the fact that you are traveling on what amounts to a flying cigar for eight hours. I passed the time reading a magazine and part of a book on my iPad (what an invaluable aid it had been on my travels--thanks for the suggestion to buy it, Alexandra!), and I watched two movies, "Salmon Fishing in Yemen" and "The Best Marigold Hotel" (I had seen the latter before, but it was so good I hardly minded doing so again). We arrived in Newark a few minutes early, and passed through two different passport checks, customs, delivering our luggage from international to domestic baggage carrier subsequently. After that we changed out last Swedish kronor to American dollars (I had quite a few coins, but they wouldn't take them, which seems to me to be a sign to return to Sweden, since I can at least buy a meal with the coinage I have left!). We went through another security control and then walked to our gate, where, during the two hours' wait we had before embarking on our last leg, we had a cheese and fruit plate at a restaurant. The last leg was pretty excruciating, as the cabin was excessively blasting cold air and I would have given anything not to have to endure another minute of sitting, cramped, between two people. I remembered the ads for travel I had seen on German television, advertisiting "Der Duft der grossen, weiten Welt--Ernte 23"--"The aroma of the great wide world--Ernte 23" (cigarette brand name) and thought about how the industry has almost taken the panache out of it all--though, I must say, it thrills me still to see those rolling departure boards scrolling through the names of cities like Moscow, Paris, Tallinn, Stockholm, Oslo, Helsinki, etc. I guess it is the romantic and the traveler in me that eats it up! We arrived at the DFW Airport at around 9:10, where Jenny's friend picked us up, brought us to his house, and we transfered our luggage to Jenny's car and drove home, collapsing into bed at about 11:00. And now I am writing the day after our return. What a trip it was!--but I say that about them all. Be looking for photos to be posted on Flickr soon. I have over 1000 photographs to look at in a very detailed manner--excising some, lighting others properly, cropping some down to their essentials. I shall work on them, bit by bit, until they are finished, before I leave for Massachusetts on July 13. Until then, stay tuned, and thanks for being an appreciative audience. As ever, Sylvia