Recently I have spent a lot of time on transportation other than my beloved old Land Rover.
I have come to the conclusion that I am the nightmare passenger that you do not want to have next to you on a long-haul flight. I have fallen in love with snowscooters. I have learnt how to sift through the ether of Swedish train scedules in order to reach a certain destination at the right time and price.
Airports around the globe have become the proverbial pain in the backside with all the stringent security checks and regulations. I have figured out that if you look normal, wear nothing remotely metallic and stay far away from wearing sungasses and hats, you can get through without going for that dreaded rectal examnation. Why do people wear sunglasses and hats inside buildings anyway? If you do end up in the security office for the rectal, you should only get nervous when you feel both of the examiner's hands on your shoulders. Especially when accompanied with hot and heavy breathing...
Once on the aeroplane, hope that the person at the check-in desk has not placed you sitting next to the following:
A large person, that snores, smells funny and drools over you when he sleeps with his head on your shoulder. Even if he does not know you. In other words, me.
I am the last person on earth you want next to you on a long distance flight. I can sleep like a log on aircraft, for some strange reason. On a recent flight from Johannesburg to London, I managed to sleep from after supper to landing at Heathrow. On this flight, I had an isle seat and due to my 187cm, 110kg body, I used the isle for legroom. I managed to trip every single passenger and flight-attendant that came past me. My head was on the shoulder, and sometimes head, of the poor guy next to me. I drooled all over him.
When they do the safety briefing before take-off, it always looks like they are doing some sort of 80's disco move. Especially when they show where the emergency exits are. Who on earth is going to remember that when the plane bursts in to flames? Because of my size, I cannot get in to the grab-your-ankles-and-kiss-your-backside-goodbye position. There is simply not enough room. I have this vision in my head of being the only person sitting upright and bear witness to immanent disaster. I am not so sure that I want to see this. Maybe those blindfolds that you are supposed to wear when you sleep will come in handy. The result would be me looking like an upright idiot just before I die...
A type of transportation device that is a heap load of fun, is the snowscooter. These things are so much fun, it is a miracle that they are legal. They are wilder than a Doomsday Daquiri when sniffed through your left nostrill. They are more fun, when you were sixteen, and you and your girlfriend discovered that her parents have gone shopping and you had the house to yourselves for two hours.
It was the most fun I ever had with a lot of clothes on. It was a rush to go over frozen lakes and rivers. The scary bit was when you stopped, and hear the ice crack under you. Good thing they can go at 150km/h. As the song goes, Novacaine for the soul!
My grasp of the Swedish language is a lot better now than when I first arrived here five months ago. The trains still confuse me. If it was not for those scrolling notice boards in the front of the carriage, and my girlfriend telling me when to get off, I would still be on a train somwhere in Sweden. I cannot understand the announcers. I think they go the same school that airline pilots go to. The School For Inarticulate Speech, funded and run by the Lisping Ugric Foundation.
The other interesting thing I discovered about Swedish trains, is that more is less. I have spent the last day to decipher and crack the code to train scedules. I have mastered the technique.
I wanted to book a ticket from Uppsala to Karlstad. The most expensive ticket included four stops, one two-hour wait, one four-hour wait and two bus trips! And this was for a train ticket...
There were cheaper options. One option with three stops, and only one bus ride, and another with two stops, no bus rides, but a six hour wait in Örebro. The cheapest and quickest way to go from Uppsala to Karlstad by train, with three stops and very little waiting time, is via Göteborg! The mind baffles...
This means one can see more of Sweden for less time and money and time.
The only worrying factor here is that I am going on this trip without my girlfriend and dedicated Lisping Ugric to Swedish to English translator.
If you do not read anything from me in another month or so, it means that I will be drooling on someone somewhere on a train in Sweden! If you can recognise me from this description, please be so kind as to tell me where I am, and point me in the direction of Uppsala...