Sunday bird blogging

A song thrush, in Stockholm.

Abstract

A closeup of the waves in the fjord.

Urban poetry

Ceiling pipes in a store in Södermalm.

Living up to Södermalm's reputation as the hippest, edgiest, artiest part of Stockholm, this store was actually a complex, where a home goods shop adjoined a Swedish version of Hold Everything which adjoined a coffee bar. One store just flowed into another, and there were windows in the floor through which you could see people getting haircuts in one of the shops beneath.

But the space was still mostly raw, with an industrial feel, so there was a sense that all of these interesting places to shop just showed up one day, and might vanish again tomorrow.

Welcome to the working week

This is the tour bus driver from Bergen. Every time we stopped, he got out and smoked a cigarette, even in heavy rain.

The picture didn't really work for me until it occurred to me to try it in black and white. Now it looks quite Scandinavian, and captures the mood of that rainy morning.

Sunday bird blogging

This is a jackdaw, a smaller member of the crow family.

Flocks of them mingled with the gulls on the wharves in Stockholm.

Saturday reflections

Reflections from Oslo.

Urban poetry

Train tracks, near the main station in Copenhagen.

Sunday bird blogging

A magpie at Skansen.

I'm home, jet-lagged and wide awake at four am after one of those awful flights that make you vow never to leave home again.

My flight was at 9 am, and I got to the United kiosks a little after 7, where I made my first mistake, and  checked in. By myself.

Oh no! A horrified woman ran over. "You're not allowed to check in yourself!" And in fact every other kiosk had an employee hovering over the passengers, pressing the buttons for them. Since I was, in fact, already checked in, and had a boarding pass, a supervisor would have to be called to determine what to do with me.

A very nice woman led me to a bench at the side and asked me to wait. "You were just so clever, checking in by yourself, that we have to ask security what to do." Since checking in at a kiosk involves swiping my passport and tapping on a couple of buttons, I didn't think it was all that clever, nor did I see how unsupervised checkin posed a security risk, but I kept my mouth shut and sat down.

And waited. And waited. Eventually the second woman went over to the first, and pointed to me. Oops! She had obviously forgotten all about me. I had already been cleared by the mysterious security supervisors, and could proceed through security.

I now had only twenty minutes before boarding, so my plans for a nice breakfast and a little shopping were ruined, as there was another security checkpoint to get through at the gate. I bought a cup of coffee and a bottle of water on the way, and figured I'd buy something to eat once I was at the gate.

Oh no! After going through security checkpoint 2, it turned out that my flight was in a special waiting area behind still another level of security, an institutional little room with chairs and toilets and a vending machine, which ate 20 kronor without spitting out the bag of nuts that was my last hope for breakfast.  But it was just an eight hour flight, and they'd be serving us a meal in a couple of hours so I'd just have to suck it up.

Oh no! Apparently it was not going to be an eight hour flight. Due to very strong headwinds, we were going to have to land in Goose Bay, Newfoundland, and refuel. By the time we were sitting on the ground in Canada, the lunch was many hours in the past and apparently the plane was about to turn into an aviation age Donner Party, because there was an announcement every few minutes that yes, there would be another meal as soon as we were in the air again.

Which turned out to be a sandwich slathered in mayonnaise that I couldn't eat, and a bag of potato chips that I inhaled. I'm pretty confident that no one has ever greeted the sorry food options in the arrival hall at Newark airport with as much joy and anticipation as the weary passengers of United flight 69.

So ends another travel, and lovely though it was, I am happier than usual to be home again.

Stockholm

Well, Arlanda, and a flight home early tomorrow.

The ship docked back in Copenhagen this morning, and I had a long wait at the airport there, broken up by an urgent conference call to discuss a problem back in the office, and a problem at checkin when my carry-on was declared too heavy (it has my cameras and lenses and it's definitely hefty) and I had to reshuffle already bursting luggage there at the counter while impatient travelers gave me the evil eye. The bag wasn't any heavier than it had been when I flew the same airline in the opposite direction last week, but if someone at an airport tells you to do something for security reasons, you just shut up and do it.

Fortunately Copenhagen has a very nice airport since I had to spend several hours there and I did not start in a forgiving mood. The bathroom sinks have hot water -- such a simple thing, and it felt like such a luxury -- and the souvenir shops had some lovely samples of Danish design that tempted me to ignore the rule above and sneak some more weight into my luggage. There was a miniature of an Arne Jacobsen red plywood chair that couldn't have weighed more than a couple of ounces, but it was almost as expensive as the real thing, and if I'm going to spend hundreds of dollars on a chair, I ought to be able to sit in it.

Now I'm at the Radisson at Arlanda, the best airport hotel I've ever stayed in. You can literally wheel your luggage cart into the lobby, and the window in my room overlooks the terminal, and the runways outside, which is kind of fun. Imagine being comfortable inside an airport!

At sea

Sailing back to Copenhagen, and our only sea day on this cruise.

For a good time in Bergen...

Back to Bryggen

The tour ended back at the wharf. The weather had cleared a little, reverting to the alternating (and occasionally simultaneous) bursts of sun and rain that Northern Europe does so well. It was an opportunity to appreciate how beautiful Bergen really is.