My two-day venture to Jonkoping!

What a wild ride. I’m am sitting in my room, though more like a shoebox, looking out my window onto the cutest cobblestone street, filled with coffee shops and boutiques, while eating some chocolate I just bought at the supermarket. I have arrived! It feels good to be here but man, am I in for a wild ride. Out of my comfort zone in EVERY sense of the word. So lets start with not yesterday, but the day before when this adventure first began. January 7^th, 2012.

Laying in my bed, my eyes sprung wide open at 6 am. Today was the day I’d been waiting for forever. I began cramming the last bit of things I needed to pack into my already full suitcases. When the shoving and cramming was accomplished, I was officially packed and ready to go. I double-checked I had everything I needed and at 9:30 am Dad, Jordan, and I headed to Tulsa to catch my flight. Of course, one of my bags was 13 pounds overweight and going to cost an extra $200. I don’t think so. I took a towel out, pj pants, and a couple misc things. A very sad, tear-filled goodbye was had between us. I then stood bravely in line at security. The thought of not seeing my family for half a year finally hit me and I couldn’t stop the tears. The man checking my ticket and passport hardly looked at my things as I’m sure my distracting sobs sidetracked his attention. I finally contained myself, caught my flight to Chicago, and was just fine.

Now, I didn’t mention why I was in the Dominican Republic earlier.. But I can’t really tell this story to it's full effect without giving details. I had breast augmentation surgery while there.. so at this point I was 7 days out of surgery. Still very sore and unable to lift anything heavy. So here I am traveling with two massive suitcases and a smaller, but nonetheless heavy, carryon and I’m not supposed to lift one of them myself. So here we go.

In Chicago my flight to Toronto was delayed and I was going to miss my connecting flight to Copenhagen. The gentleman at the ticket counter was able to get me on a Scandinavian flight leaving from Chicago at 10pm that was a non-stop flight to Copenhagen. Awesome! So I go to baggage claim and get my luggage so that it doesn’t get lost in the ticket change process. This was the beginning of my asking for help with lifting my luggage. I have to get to terminal 5 to check in at SAS for my flight. It was suggested I grab a taxi because I could not lift my luggage by myself and I couldn’t take my roller cart onto the tram with me. So I did. Only to get another roller cart and ask for help 4 more times before going through security again. So after 45 minutes of security check in, I find my gate. Except I’m there at 6:30 and my flight doesn’t leave until 10. There were no restaurants in the terminal gate area!!! I decided to bite the bullet and go back through security where there were restaurants. I got a smoothly and banana nut muffin, with approximately 1 walnut in the entire thing, and relaxed for a bit before tackling security again.  

It was time for takeoff and we all shuffled aboard the airbus! Yay, finally on my way! The trip went well and the food was excellent surprisingly. My only complaint was that I ended up sitting by a girl with a horrible cough. Coughing and laughing are the two things that hurt the most because it tightens up the chest muscle and is really painful. I double dosed on my vitamins. I arrived in Copenhagen around 11:30 am on January 8^th. I was able to find the train station easily and got a ticket to Hagen something. I had a story written in my head that the train ride would be comfortable and I’d find a seat with a table like the pictures showed and get on my computer while gazing out the window. I found my self inbetween the two train cars, sitting on my luggage in the doorway. It was such a hassle to get my luggage on board and the train was packed, I didn’t want to move. Wasn’t exactly the idyllic scene I had pictured. I did meet the nicest couple though and they totally saved my butt! The girl, who was probably my age, asked if I was studying abroad. I said yes and that I was going to Jonkoping. Both of them had studied at JIBS as well so we had a lot to talk about. I showed them my ticket and they both stared at it confused. They said that I should get off at Lund and catch another train to Jonkoping because where I was headed didn’t have a connecting train. So I listened and they kindly helped me lug my three suitcases to the ticket office across the train tracks. She gave me her information so that if I needed anything or was back in that area, I could be in touch. They were the cutest couple and said they meet each other at JIBS a year ago and are now living together in Lund. They had just gotten back from Mexico City, where he was from, and they had flown there together so she could meet his family. Wouldn’t it be fun if I were to be in a similar situation a year from now. They helped me buy a ticket to Jonkoping leaving in an hour or so. We said our goodbyes and there I was, standing alone with my luggage not really knowing what to do next. I just had to laugh. In order to get back over the train tracks where I was to board my next train, I had to figure out how I was going to get my luggage there. I knew I had a little time, so I just stood there thinking. Maybe someone would stop and ask if I needed help… but everyone was in such a hurry. Not many people even noticed I was standing there. When I finally realized I had to make a move I decided to take my carryon bag because it had my laptop, passport, and over $1,000, and one of my big suitcases. I took the elevator up and then realized there were numbers 1-5 and I would go down to that track according to what train I needed to catch. I left my big suitcase there and went back down for the other. When I got back up I decided to ask someone. After a couple of tries, no one knew and said I should go down to the office and ask. Easy if I didn’t have these three dang suitcases that weighed as much as a body bag. Finally, I decided to leave my two heavy ones at the top and go back down with just my carryon. At this point, I would have preferred the stupid things be stolen. When the lady at that train station saw my ticket she didn’t know how I had booked a ticket straight to Jonkoping. She said I would need to go to Nassjo and then catch another train to Jonkoping. She rebooked my ticket and said I would get onboard at the platform 4, and to head that way because it would be coming soon. So I once again lugged one suitcase at a time to where I needed to be. When the train came, it was as if a tidal wave was about to crash down on everyone and they were fleeing to save their lives. I ran to a lady who worked for the train and was trying to get everyone on board. I show her my ticket and ask if this is the train I need to get on. She says “Yes, car 7. Hurry!” My eyes popped open wide and I flashed an “Oh shit” face. I asked if she would help with my bags because I’ve had surgery and cant lift them. She yelled, “Bring them fast! Hurry!” I ran to them quickly and lugged them over. She lifted them aboard and sat them once again, in the doorway in-between rail cars. I thought, great, a two-hour train ride and I’ll be standing in the door way again. I asked her when I would be getting off and she says, “oh no, this is not the train you were to catch.” That’s when I could no longer choke back the tears. They began rolling down my cheeks as the thought of heading the wrong direction as dark approached and having to maneuver my bags again was just too much. She did some things on her phone and then wrote on my ticket the new times I would arrive at the stop in which I needed to switch trains. Oh… that’s not as bad as I thought. An extra 30 minutes is no biggie. At that point I felt silly but the women's english wasn't good enough for me to communicate my misunderstanding. What can you do? All was well and I left my luggage in the doorway and found a seat. The train ride was peaceful and I enjoyed looking out the window at the countryside. I had two hours to relax until I needed to move again.

When my stop was approaching, I didn’t want to move. I was so warm and comfortable. I asked a man to help me get my luggage off the train for me. The train lady came running to me and said, “You need to get to that side and take that train.” Great, another bridge. The train was waiting and labeled Jonkoping so I knew once I got my bags over there, I was on the right train. There was snow on the ground and it was freezing. There weren’t many people around and I was so tired of bugging people to help me. I dragged one bag at a time up the elevator, over the bridge, back down and into the train. As I approached with the second bag a man said, “Train leaving in 5 minutes!” I ran back over to the other side, grabbed my third bag, and ran as fast as I could muster back to the train. Just in time. I sat down with my 3 suitcases and the train began to move. Next stop Jonkoping.

We arrived 45 minutes later. I got off the train and found the nearest bench. It wasn’t clearly explained where I would be picked up by the accommodation office. I looked around to hopefully find what looked like students. I asked a couple of people and got a couple of strange looks. I wasn’t having any luck where I was so I decided to move. One bag at a time, I parked myself, and all my things, at a café table. Food! Omg I hadn’t eaten in hours. I got some food and connected to the Internet. I asked the lady working the café if she knew anything about JIBS picking up students and a meeting area. She said she didn’t know but right there was a big sign saying “Jonkoping University Meeting Area”... Ah ha. That would be it. I missed the 4 o clock pick up time I had signed up for. It was now a little after 8pm. I sat on the bench and waited by myself. After about 15 minutes a Canadian guy walked over with his two suitcases and sat down next to me. We talked for about 30 minutes until the university driver showed up to get us.

We went to the accommodation office and got the keys and paperwork for our housing. We went to my place first so they could both help with my luggage. Damn luggage. The man asked where I had surgery. I told him on my shoulders. Of course the elevator didn’t work so those poor guys had to lug my heavy ass bags up 4 flights of stairs. Finally the moment I’d been waiting for. My room, and most importantly at this point, my bed. Its small and all white but home for the next 6 months. I’d been dreaming of a warm shower and good night sleep. The shower was big enough for my body and allowed only the ability to turn around if you keep your hands down by your side. The hand held shower head was lying on the ground so I picked it up and put it on its hook. When I turned the water on, the nozzle shot off spraying water all over me and the bathroom. That’s why it was dangling on the floor. I managed to clean my very smelly body but once done showering, had to use a shirt to dry because the only towel I brought, I had taken out of my suitcase. I managed to get myself into bed and what a glorious moment it was when I finally closed my eyes. :) 

-L