I love travelling, no doubt about it, but there is one place which drives me crazy, which annoys the hell out of me, and can ruin (does ruin every time) the whole travelling experience: the luggage belt at the airport!! I am sure that I am not the only one, I remember my dear friend P No 1 yelling at a Belgian [not so innocent] man at 03 in the morning at Brussels airport when coming back from Marrakesh, but she did sheepishly apologise to him afterwards!
Yesterday was no different, I arrived to Copenhagen airport – I love it, the modern, sleak interior design and the cool shops (Pilgrim jewellery, Soaked in Luxury etc) but checking in (if you are flying SAS, which I do very rarely) or picking up your luggage is a complete nightmare. I arrived to the luggage belt and there are FIVE flights designated to the same belt… out of which one is Reykavik which means Americans flying IcelandAir… Americans are known to have huuuge luggages when coming to Europe (I guess a bit like Europeans coming to the US), which equals chaos! I always get stressed at the luggage belt as I am afraid that somebody else will take my luggage, either by mistake or intentionally. It almost happened to me once but I caught it in time “hey, that’s my bag!”.
And, the worst thing: people who stand with the trolleys as close to the belt as possible, preferably two or three persons of the same family to block everybody else’s view… I always try to keep a distance to the belt but it is the law of the jungle and in the end I don’t want to miss my bag of course.
So, there I am, waiting for my suitcase with an American woman (I do admit that she could have been any other nationality, but now she happened to be from the US) and her two sons next to me (it has to be noted that the sons were not that young, probably between 7-10 years old). She annoyed me quite quickly as she had this big Burberry scarf that she kept throwing around the shoulder and flicking it in my face, (ok, it was not her fault that she didn’t see me standing behind her.. see how I am trying to be understanding). Her sons were all over the place, screaming at each other, leaning on the conveyor belt, pushing and shoving (which their mother did as well, not one “pardon” or “excuse me” once). No problem, it’s difficult to travel on your own with children, I am human after all. But, the woman didn’t seem to know what her missing suitcase looked like! I promise you, she looked at blue, green, grey, black ones – and some of them more than once (my suitcase was delayed so I had time to observe) – in the end I wanted to ask her “woman, do you have any idea what you are looking for??”. She pulled them off the belt, stood around for a few minutes fiddeling with airport tag (as they were coming from the US the bags were not locked, so I was thinking, why don’t you just OPEN them to check?) and then tried to throw them back on, which most of the time completely failed as her sons were in the way or she hadn’t pushed down the handle etc.
In the end my suitcase arrived before her missing one, I stepped up to the belt, asked kindly to her son to move (he was leaning on the belt again) and when he didn’t move, I didn’t have much more choice than to pull the bag off and kind of hit him in the head (not too hard, I assure you), he started to yell, his mother telled him off for being in the way – FINALLY!
Getting on the train to Copenhagen and there was only standing room, and I was listening to an American tourist guide dressed completely in purple, including her cap, talking loudly on the phone (all the passengers were listening to her) to the travel agency back in the US about the little fucker (oh yes, her words) [the Danish bus driver] – who had been such an asshole, idiot, Nazi (oh oh, you are in a country that was invaded by the Nazis, maybe you should chose your words a bit more carfully…) to have refused her group (apparently some kind of mix-up with the timings) and he didn’t even take into account that she was pregnant… At this point there was at least five sets of eyes in the train that darted to her stomach, we looked at each other – we didn’t realise that she was pregnant either (she was not exactly thin).
She hung up and I realised that the train had not, for some strange reason, stopped at Örestad where I was supposed to get off to take the metro to my friend’s place. Oh well.. and the train was like a sauna – welcome to Scandinavia where there is no air-conditioning (the heating seemed to be on!)! I think that the temperature was around 40 degrees, people were sweating and complaining. Then the train lurched and I fell backwards with my suitcase and backpack on top of me while I was on the phone with my friend telling her that I would arrive to Copenhagen Central and wouldn’t be able to take the metro (the Central station is not connected to the metro) while seven 20-year old drunk Danish guys were imitating my Swedish… Did I say that I love travelling?
Phew, it must have been my worst arrival to Copenhagen EVER! But, I had a great time when I finally made it to my friend’s place but more about that another day. I do realise that I had a smooth trip considering that I was travelling on my own, no children, no delays – just some annoying people around me and a hot train but everything is relative and for me, yesterday, it was very tiring! In a few years I will be blogging about inconsiderate persons who hit my children in the head with their suitcases 🙂
PS. Did somebody write on their blog that Americans are polite?? Ok, this was just two Americans in Copenhagen, but they were the only two Americans I saw yesterday…