Japunzel

So last night turned out to NOT be my last night in the States.

I arrived this morning at San Francisco Airport with a cup of delicious jasmine tea, a sandwich and two heavy bags. I knew that I had forgotten a pair of shoes and my sunglasses, but nothing vital.

At first I was a little confused about all the lines, but made it to the staffed machines. I tried at first but as I suspected it said it couldnt find a route for "C. Anjou". C is for my middlename, that happens to be the first name on the passport. I tried to get the attention of people working there and realised that there was only one woman patrolling 30 machines and 100 confused passengers. No one had time for my questions and I was abruptly moved to the line that was called "Additional Services".
This made me relieved, that was the line that helped me in Chicago. I started talking to the woman in front of me, and the couple behind me in the line. The woman in front had moved four meters in 20 minutes. The line was approx 12 meter, and time was of the essence. After 25 minutes or so things were getting serious, and the fact that the line was an additional 10 meters that I hadn't noticed yet didn't help.

When my newfound allies in the line were guarding my bags I ran off to seize the few people that worked there and tried to tell them about the situation, all of them chased me off with a "You'll have to speak to a United agent".
But there weren't any. Not until it was too late to check in did I get service from the people behind the deskes. It was a very rude man who told me immediatly that the only thing he could do was to get me to a later plane to Washington (which I hoped for) and then I'd have to get a hotel there and wait to get the same flight to Denmark, but a day later.
I was very upset and the man refused to help me further because there were people almost missing their planes (like me, 30 mins earlier...). I stood beside the desk as he helped a man and the couple behind me from the line. Afterwards he told me "I'm gonna move you. You can't stand her and cry all day." And I was told to follow, which I did. He took me to Premier Access, the same kind of line as the earlier but for the people in first class and business class. And only 3 people in line. A guy who looked a bit like Morgan Freeman asked why we were in line, and I tried to explain the situation.
"They moved me here because he said you have more time here." I probably looked sad and lost, which I was.
"Who said that?!"
"An asian-looking man. He said I couldn't stand there and cry all day."
He looked upset, turned away, asked the people that already ended up behind me in line of their reasons.
"Uhm, could I get my passport back", I asked Morgan Freeman, who was actually called Richard.
"No, you're coming with me." I was getting nervous.
He took me to a desk, and started looking at the flight I missed. He made some calls, and spoke reassuring to me without ever losing his professionalism.
The first thing he said was:
"You're from Sweden?"
"Uh-huh."
"Are people this rude in Sweden?"
"No." I shook my head slowly and looked even more miserable.
"No. This is America. People are very rude here. But we're gonna fix this."
I said that I'd rather go to Washington the day after, and stay the night in San Francisco, instead of Washington.
He said alright, and started looking up tickets. Things were troublesome and he said "Imma call the wizard. If anyone can help us, it's the wizard."
I just nodded encouragingly.
After many calls and mumbling and asking other staff for stuff, he printed me two initieries and asked if I could go back to my relatives. I got to borrow his phone and tried to call the few numbers I had. No replies.
I told Richard that if I could get wifi I could email my way out of the airport. He said the wifi was free, so I sat down and started facebooking my cousin, chatting with my sister and emailing my aunt (all at the same time). Just tried all ways to communicate my situation to see if someone could get me out of there. Soon enough my aunt replied and told me her husband would pick me up if I called and confirmed. Richard lended me his phone again, I called and was ready to go.
I gave all my thanks to Richard, and he replied without losing his professionalism.
Not much later I was brought back to my aunt's place. I rested a little, I was finished after all the suspension. It was still early. Gonna eat soon, and I dont dare to unpack my big bag. Gonna stay in these clothes and just go tomorrow, but even earlier, and I'm gonna check in tonight so I can just drop my luggage at the airport and then straight to security.
Phew. This is a day in limbo. Between staying and going, between here and there. Awake and sleep.

This is my final night in the states.

I wrote many drafts for posts the last couple of days, but none was completed. So much has happened and right now I feel empty, not able to tell the fantastic stories.

Let me just assure you that I am quite alright and that I will miss alot of people here.
You will be able to read long posts and see pictures when I'm home.

Now I'm just gonna fall asleep with the bittetsweet feeling left, from having watched a classic: Batman - Mask of the Phantasm. It has everything you need. A badass redhead, the Joker and fantastic music.

Goodnight!

(4 hours and 30min until I gotta get up again)

After we got back to Pacifica we had just enough time to catch some sun on the sundeck.

We also had some honeysuckle that my aunt's husband found.


After lunch we continued to Coit tower. The way there consisted of wooden stairs in a jungle. We heard more parrots but couldn't see them.
The tower was crowded, and I had been at the top before, on my first visit when I was 12. So we just looked at the murals on the first floor and then went out to enjoy the view from Pioneer Park just outside.


From there we took even more stairs down hill, and eventually reached Embarcadero, which maybe would be the Sunset Boulevard of SF.

I'll continue this post when I'm back from Santa Cruz, tomorrow night. We're going in a couple of hours and I need to get dressed and eat.

I'm picking up where I left off yesterday, and I updated that post with images. So now you can read it again!


When I finally got on the plane, everything went smoothly. I sat next to two women, one around 35, the other maybe 55. They were pleasant company, but like with the danish journalist I never learned their names. I realized I liked those conversations were the identity is not important, just the conversation itself. Old readers might remember my guide in the Freemason museum in Brussels.


I arrived at San Francisco at around 09.30 local time.


I went to the bathroom and then went to pick up my luggage. Before I had time to find the right luggage belt, I heard my name. My aunt came up and gave me a big hug. Her husband was there as well.
I took my luggage and we drove to Pacifica, the little (village? suburb? collection of houses?) place south of SF where they live.
I was a bit "out of it" due to lack of sleep and too many hours on an airplane, and jetlagged on top of that. But I arrived safe and almost sound. I was more hyper than tired (it happens when I get too little sleep but my body hasn't fully realized it yet), so I pursuaded my dear aunt that I was more than fit to go to the local market, and then continue into SF to meet up with my oldest cousin here.


The local market was a collection of stands on a parking lot outside a shopping centre, with fresh fruit and vegetables, most of it was locally grown, and I think all of it was organic. We bought some stuff and then drove to the old hippie area in SF, referred to as Ashbury Heights. The area had a cool young spirit to it and it reminded me of Europe. Like Camden Market in London, Christiania in Copenhagen or Möllan in Malmö.
I went into a few second hand shops, and bought a dress that probably wasn't second hand. But it was really cute.


Then we found a cozy café with a few vegetarian dishes. They boasted about their veggie burger as a speciality, but it was mainly made out of spinach. After having eaten many delicious vegetarian burgers in my life, I was disappointed. Oh and when my cousin turned up at our table I got so excited that I spilled a glass of ice tea on my aunt's sister in law.

Then we drove home to Pacifica again. I had a nap, and then they woke me up for dinner. Homemade pizza, everyone made their own. Verrrry tasty. For dessert we had fruit and chocolate fondue.

So I had some rough days.

I was supposed to take a flight on friday, Copenhagen to Chicago. In Chicago I was supposed to change to a flight going to San Francisco.
I was half successful. My first plane was 2 hours late, and I was almost certain I would miss my second one. I was told about the delay long before I went to the airport, but I was told to check in at the original time. So after an hour of entertainment at the gate (thank you Angry Birds!), I was bored. My laptop batteries were dead. Finally I was let on the plane and I had a nice flight, in the company of a danish journalist whose name I never learned.
I couldnt sleep because there was constant sunshine outside. I had plenty of red wine and read some, and watched some movies.

As we flew closer to Chicago it became obvious I wouldn't make it. When I arrived, and went through the security check and grabbed my bag, I went to the helpdesk, and they said the earliest flight would be 07.00 the morning after. It was only about 20.00 so they gave me a hotel voucher, and told me where to wait for a bus shuttle.
It was a bumpy ride but we made it. The very friendly guy in the lobby (that looked like a young Tom Cruise) gave me a room on the 9th floor, with a lovely view and a kingsize bed. I was pleased.


A free eveningmeal was included in the voucher and according to three different polls, I ate at the "Best steakhouse in Chicago", Harry Caray's italian steakhouse and bar.
But I had pasta with pesto and mushrooms and bell pepper, vegetarian these days. I drank a local beer, named Goose Island, it wasn't very good.
Since it was like 22.00 already, I was eating at the bar. It felt like I was in a movie. The bar was mostly decorated with wooden panels, and photos of celebrities that might have or might not have eaten there. Three huge flat tv's were displaying baseball, and a documentary about the case of Dominique Strauss Kahn on NBC. But mostly it was commercials.

Afterwards I realized I wouldn't get far on my computer without a powerplug converter (the building had free wifi), and used the hotel's computer to email my aunt that was supposed to pick me up. I was hoping she knew about my delay already, I texted mom and dad earlier.
I got back to my room, and took a shower. Then I crept down in my humongous bed and watched some tv before falling asleep. I left the tv on, because the room was to quiet, to clinical. The sounds of Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum fighting aliens in the background was almost soothing.
I asked for a wakeupcall at 04.00, but I woke up stressed at around 03.00. I had most of my stuff packed, and just needed to gather it and get dressed. My shuttle back to the airport left at 05.00, and I got on it in time.


Chicago's airport is probably the nicest one I've been to. The main hall was made out of steel and glass in a way that reminded me of old trainstations. And they had a life sized replica of a Brachiosaurus skeleton. But my favourite was a corridor to the gates, that was completely the opposite of a boring corridor. Rainbow lights in the ceiling and curved walls made the floor the only straight thing in it. Took plenty of pictures.


I also managed to hustle my way into a a large McDonalds breakfast for 10.41 $ - for free. Hash brownies and pineapple-mango smoothie were my favourites. Shame they but bacon or ham on pretty much everything else on the menu. I guess that's the american way.


I'm off to bed now, it's past midnight here. More text will come tomorrow.