Craziness

Currently, as I write a blog post about my last 24 hours, I am sitting in the sky city lounge at the Stockholm Arlanda Airport sweating and trying to stay awake.  The jet leg is sinking in and I still have about 8 hours left in my trip to Northern Sweden, a long wait time has me sitting in the airport for another 4
hours before I fly to Vilhelmina in the North of Sweden.

I have been through this before, the jet leg, feeling your body adjust to increasing drowsiness.  Internal organs deciding to give it the old college try, while you shove another sandwich into a digestive system that is screaming for a little piece and quite, not to mention the airport food.

It started okay, my mother drove me to the airport in Regina.  How I have come to love the hospitality, friendliness and promptness of our home airport.  A quick jolt over to Calgary, not a problem for a well traveled vet, I laughed this trip off, as I even got an extra seat to myself.

Calgary airport is nice, I have been there so much that ot can be considered a second home, the good memories mixed with the bad memories, but all in all we still remain close acquaintances.  I now have 5 hours before boarding my flight to Amsterdam, so I sit down and watch Nazi Hunters on netflix, at this point, the fresh level is still at a high level and I am focusing on keeping my body refreshed and ready for a long trip.

As I settle in, I start to rethink my life.  It has been an amazing ride, full of travel, worldly friends and new experiences.  Including this experience, as I would have never fathomed being a facilitator in Northern Sweden for Sami rights, still does not feel real.  However, i also start to slip into a slight depression as I think of my lost love, the break up and my move from Belgium back to Saskatchewan.  I message her on facebook, the sad ex-boyfriend message, wondering why things turned out the way they did, but truly knowing I am more then partly to blame.

Every time I travel to Europe, I think of her, the beauty she possesses, the influence she had in my life, how I long for her touch, the chance to see her and be with her.  However, the thought of never knowing her thoughts leaves me filled with doubt.  Has she moved passed it, does she wonder about me? will I ever see her again?  When will she meet a new person, one that will provide her the missing piece of her life that I somehow could not.  Will this individual thank me for providing them an opportunity to meet the most loyal, trusting, honest and wonderful person in the world.  Future dude, I expect at least a "pintje stella".  

Suddenly sound breaks through my life altering train of thought and interrupts my sub-conscious with a call for me to head to gate 44, apparently they need to talk to me.  They provide me the missing boarding card to navigate through Amsterdam, so I can get to Stockholm.

As the people gather like a pack of hungry lions fighting over the last scrap of meat, we start to get on the plane.  However, a customs agent pulls me aside and asks me where I am going, what I am doing, how much Euros do I have, etc - the mini-interrogation lasts a brief moment, but a passenger behind me states that they are totally profiling people.  It must have been my army style shorts, hiking boots with bright neon laces, striped blue party shirt and my backpack accompanied by airplane neck pillow - I have been targeted a wild risk (Cool).

I am seated at the back of the plane beside this lady with crying babies all around us, needless to say, the accent of the Stewardess reminded me of many friends I have met in Belgium and The Netherlands. I try to sleep, but this is an impossible task, airplanes appear to be the most uncomfortable place to rest in the world.   I struggle to get a few hours, but decide to watch movies starting with a classic (The Hangover).

After 8 hours and 10 minutes I arrive in Amsterdam, what a familiar feeling.  I have been here many times before for parties with friends, but naturally the first time was 6.5 years ago with her, as we toured Ann Frank's house, Madame Tousseau and enjoyed the culture of Amsterdam.  However, this time I will only see the airport, but I do manage to speak some Dutch and some German, as the customs guard questioned me in German in the EU line based on my passport. He snickered as his German was far superior to mine.

After 2 hours of waiting and the fresh level entering dangerous proportions, I am finally boarding to head to Stockholm.  I have been to Stockholm before, again with her, but also with some friends, I remember very little from the 2008 visit, but I do remember the Swedish party boat that took us over night to Tallinn Estonia.

After a 2 hour flight where I am crammed in between two people, I am at a dangerous level of freshness, fatigue is running through my body, I am over tired, now I understand sleep deprivation on soldiers and admire their strength for fighting through it, I just want to sleep in my bed right now.  However, i still have 4 hours till boarding time and then a 1 and a half hour flight to Vilhelmina in the North of Sweden, then my friend Per Jonas will pick me up and take me to Saxnis, not sure if even Swedish people know where this is, so do not know how much time I must be in the car.

Traveling alone is not an easy task, having someone to converse with, watch your stuff, keep your mind fresh, bounce ideas off of is fantastic, the loneliness of these long flights is wearing me down.  In the past, my reason for flying to Europe and living here for 3 years was to see her, but since Geneva (Feb) and Sweden (Present), the lonely travel is becoming a tad bit more difficult.

Roy "the overtired"