Friday-Sunday

It is good to be home. Enjoy it my friends, doing as little as possible with the one’s you love. No wonder it took so long for Arwen and me to leave Uppsala. But on the way we managed to see our new flat. We will have to walk-in-closets and two bathrooms. Quite a setback to find that there wasn’t a view over the cathedral and a water landscape from a big balcony. And there wasn’t a washer in the bathroom. Can you imagine?

In Falun we both had a lot of studying to do. It was still nice to be together and really nice to see mother as well. I am a lucky guy. I am marrying my sweetest friend, a beautiful, angelic and intelligent princess, and I could not wish to have a better friend for a mother, than my mother. Still I cannot help missing my other friends. I am hard to please, aren’t I?

Coming to Lövhult just completed the set of three homecomings for the weekend, which past all to0 quickly, but I felt at ease when I left. We are getting into a routine, which makes it less scary to part, yet harder still since I just want to be in one specific place, more and more.

Maybe nature tried to tell me something, although it may be a bit egocentric to believe that all the winter chaos was to get a message through to me. Taking the train in good time from Uppsala should not be a problem. 17 minutes, what can go wrong? And I stood there wondering if I should take the five minute earlier replacement bus instead. Opted it out since the bus takes longer. Bad choise. All was well still when the train left 20 minutes late. Thought I was lucky since the previous train to leave was 187 min late. Then it stopped. And no word. 15 minutes passed before it moved. For a few minutes. Then it stopped again. I was not the only one worried when after a while we got the message, with a tone as if nothing was the matter, that the train would not go into Arlanda. Instead passangers who wanted to depart there had to go to Upplands Väsby and take the next return train back or get off at Märsta and try to get to Arlanda as best as we could. I did. No taxis available, but a bus was to depart in 12 minutes.

Eventually, I got to Arlanda five minutes before the plane departed. But checkin was closed. I had seen several options flash by: Returning if possible to Arwen and never leave again. Staying the night at Arlanda or with Arwen to take the 7 o’clock flight. I didn’t expect to find a ticket two hours later. Well at Heathrow bus station, I saw the back of the bus leaving. Apparently the bus driver didn’t see me waving and running behind it. But all in all, at that point what is another 30 minutes wait.