Can someone remind me why I'm doing this?

Chapter one

I have been working on what to tell you about my time at Boldon over the last two days, but have had a few distractions and long hours of travel in preparation for my flight to Denmark. Today began at 1:45 am when Graeme my husband woke me to make sure I got up to catch the 6 am flight from Edinburgh to Copenhagen. The time differences are doing both our heads in. I wasn't very happy that he woke me an hour earlier than I had intended, but couldn't get back to sleep and what was the point for less than an hour, so I got up, threw on my clothing and got in the car. 

Over here they have this system of putting a post code into the GPS and it magically leads you to where you're going. I had a post code for the company I hired the car from and I blindly allowed it to take me after punching in numbers and letters. Well it took me near the airport, but to some isolated gated and fenced section of it and nothing to indicate Hertz rent a car. Thank you Graeme for getting me out of a warm bed an hour earlier than I needed because I needed that hour to frantically make phone calls, listen to calm detached recordings about customer service and websites, fiddle with the #%*_+ GPS that wouldn't let me put in an address! only a post code! Oh boy. I was pretty stressed. I used my trusty iPhone and precious expensive cellular data to lead me to the address on the website. It was a good 10 Kms  away but I found it after winding my way through long term parking, drop off zones (that cost me a pound just to get out)  and finally seeing a sign to leave hire cars. I wanted to get out and give that sign a hug but I kept my dignity and found my way to a dark car park and a place to drop keys and I still had fifteen minutes to spare before the allotted check in time of 3:45am. 

I saw the lighted doorway to the terminal, but the automatic doors wouldn't open. As it turns out they were only the doors to the offices for car rentals, closed because it was 3 in the morning, but you know what it's like when you're running late for work and your heart starts to pound a bit and you're feeling a bit stressed and then you can't find the keys! It happens to me quite regularly and what happens then is my brain shuts down. It's called cortisol, this hormone that gets all hyped up makes me sick on the stomach and shuts me out from thinking straight. So that's what was happening to me at this point. I looked around and saw a sign that said 'help' . Well I needed help didn't I? It was a lovely comforting sign with a phone and a phone number in big numbers. I clutched it like a life raft and rang the number. I heard a human voice and I said "I'm at the airport and have just dropped off a hire car but I can't get into the terminal" The lovely Scottish accent of the first real person I'd spoken to since this turmoil began kindly explained that they were a taxi service for handicapped people and he couldn't direct me. 

So I took a deep breath and settled down enough to figure it out for myself. I felt so silly but it is a funny story so I thought I'd share it with you, even at the risk of you thinking me rather stupid. 

I found the path to the terminal and it all went off without a hitch from there. I'm about to board a flight and should arrive at Viborg in Denmark in about 12 hours. I have to get two flights, and two trains. Can someone remind me why I'm doing this? I know I thought it was a good idea at the time. I guess I'm just keen. 

I'll be sending my reflections on the last few days at Boldon Nursery at some stage during my day of travel. Till then, I've got a flight to catch. 

Chapter two

My flight was delayed! I missed the connecting flight to copenhagen! I had to line up for an hour to go through security then made a beeline to see the airline help desk. I had been waiting, exhausted, on a line where I could see the consultants looking very sympathetic but firmly shaking heads and pursing lips and checking computers just to shake heads again. I couldn't understand a word they were saying. One was speaking French, the other German and the passengers that had also missed connecting flights were looking very angry. I longed to know what they were saying so I could read my fate.

So I get to my turn and I see the same face as I explain what happened. She apologizes with a sympathetic air as she explains the 'solution' for me. I'm to catch another flight to Frankfurt, then onto copenhagen from there. I'll miss the train to viborg and will not get to my accomodation which is all paid for and waiting for me so invitingly. I want a bed! Now! It's the holidays so I don't even know if I'll get a bed in copenhagen. Can someone remind me why I'm doing this?

Chapter three

Well I've made it to Frankfurt and am relaxing on a comfy couch awaiting the flight to copenhagen. I think it's all going to work out and I bought myself some duty free perfume to cheer myself up. I was pretty excited to learn that Clinique doesn't test on animals, one of the few cosmetic companies that don't, so I thought it was time to give myself a treat. 

Chapter four

I arrived in Copenhagenafter a pleasant flight by the window. One good thing about all this is that I've had three different delicious pastries, one for each flight. I got in at about 6, seven hours later than intended. I went to pick up my bag and would you believe it? I watched for fifteen minutes the same left over bags going round and round, mine not appearing despite my willing it to with all my might. There were a few similar looking ones to tease me and my eyeballs hurt from hopeful scrutiny of these, but no luck. Okay so by now I have to admit that I was getting a bit fragile. I followed instructions to a counter and a lovely young man who looked about 12 served me. Poor young thing. It was all I could do to hold it together. He heard the quake in my voice, saw the pathetic look of helplessness in my eyes, and the slouch of my body weary from the hours of travel, stress and problems. He smiled cheerily and said 'let's see what we can find'. Like a comforting adult to a small child he said in a bright voice 'I know where your bag is' and directed me to yet another counter. It had gone through a slightly different process due to my being redirected and was on a different carousel. 

Now to get the train.

So I'm on the train now and pretty confident that I'll cope with changing at a station I can't read or pronounce. One more step in this tedious process. I wanted adventure and I guess that's what this is. 

When I get in it'll be 1:45am. Isn't that poetic? This whole journey has taken 24 hours.