I’d started preparing for my big trip weeks in advance.  While I was in preparation I didn’t really believe I was going. The trip was my first time outside of the country, really, and I was fulfilling a goal that I’d had at least since I was 17, and maybe all of my life.

 

 

Monday, May 16

 

This is entry no. 1 of my travel journal.  Someone gave me the good advice to write while I traveled.  My inclination is to say everything in my lusting, lying, drunken mind, but I’ll try to control myself. Today I will purchase the tickets and begin to firm up itinerary.  The financing of this trip is courtesy of MasterCard.

 

 

Friday, May 23

 

After much fooling around, unreturned calls, strange quotes, etc., I finally got my tickets set up through a travel agent. It will cost over $1,000 and involve a 9-hour layover in London to Copenhagen.  I’m pretty excited.  There is still a lot to be done.

 

Taking a vacation is always a dangerous thing.  I’d never really had a job that allowed for a ‘real’ vacation, and I now realize how very inexperienced I was at dealing with the politics the whole office thing.  No matter where you work, it seems like the punishment is meted out for trying to live your life.

 

Paccess, the place I was working at the time, was a laboratory of learning.  I learned more about myself and more about life there than I knew at the time.  Despite the skills I gained, there was some underlying sin about taking time off.  I did it anyway, and eventually survived four years there, far beyond the norm.

 

 

Wednesday, May 28

 

Whew. At the end of the day yesterday it was discovered that I overlap vacation times with someone in the department and that I would be forced to cancel my tickets and pay the fees.  The department had verbally approved my plan and then noticed the oversight and told me I had to change it, after I’d made the commitment.  Luckily the portion of the trip for which I paid hadn’t gone through, so I paid no penalties. I was so pissed about the whole situation that I couldn’t sleep last night.

 

The good news is that by moving a week earlier, I save a couple of bucks ($100).  I also bought a ten-day Scanrail pass today.  Needless to say the enthusiasm that disappeared yesterday has returned today with a vengeance.

 

 

Wednesday, June 10                                                                                                                     

 

Called Copenhagen Hotel Sankt Jorgen in Copenhagen at midnight last night and booked myself for 7/17 and 7/18 at 380DKR per night.  At today’s rate, that’s.  It was fun calling.  The lady on the other end was a bit abrupt but nice.  She spoke excellent English too.  Hope and expectations are rising.  So is the credit card bill.

 

 

Wednesday, June 18

 

I booked space in a couple of youth hostels.  Amager is in south Copenhagen for my third day and two more nights in Stockholm for less than 15 dollars each night.  I’m really excited about the Swedish hostel that I’d read about.  It’s called the Af Chapman, and it’s actually an old clipper, anchored and accepting travelers.

 

 

Wednesday, June 25

 

I have contacted Natasha, my old friend from London. She’s going to meet me 7/17 on my layover at Gatwick.  I’ll be taking the train to Victoria station and call her from there. She’ll have just returned from Turkus and Caicos Islands about that time.  It will be the first time here I’ve seen her in about five years.

 

I’d met Natasha several years before.  Her parents were neighbors of a relative of some friends of mine.  How’s that for a stretch?  Anyway, she came to Sheridan to visit.  She was about 15 or 16 when I met her, and I must have been about 23.  My friend Michael had told me she was visiting his parents, and since he and I were seeing a lot of each other at the time, it was inevitable that my path should cross with Stash.

 

Stash was probably the closest thing to perfection I’d seen up to that point in my life.  Well, maybe I was in love with her before I’d even met her. I had a habit of falling in love once or twice a week around that time.  I met her at Michael’s parent’s house.  She and Michael’s little sister were swimming at the creek, and I’m sure I made a fool out of myself as soon as I met her, though I’ve blocked it out by now.

 

Stash and I hit it off right away.  I suppose it sounds like a cliché straight out of Nabakov, but she really proved to be wise far beyond her years, and a badly needed boost to my existence at the time.  We established a firm friendship. Despite the complicating factors of age and my general attraction to her, we always kept things light, warm and cordial.