I woke up with a head cold. My stomach is still sore. I miss the Internet. I am not homesick per se, but I am getting there, and I think I timed this perfectly. I am not looking forward to the travels tomorrow. I leave very early to catch the 6:15 train out of Sundsvall, get off right at Arlanda (airport) around 9:30, find British Airways, get my tickets, and hop on the 11:55 flight to London. I hope it's not late because I'd like to do some shopping at the Heathrow Mall. In theory I have 3 hours to shop. Then we hop on the 7 hour hell flight to New York, where I have an hour and 10 minutes to get through passport control, maybe customs, and get on a small plane to DC. It won't be so bad if I can get some steady sleep tonight and then again on the train to Sundsvall and the plane to New York. On paper, it looks bad: I start travel at 5:15am and get home 10:00pm. But that doesn't take into acount the 6 hour difference. In Swedish time, I start at 5:15am and arrive 4:00am the next day, having been on a car, train, plane, or an airport for almost 23 hours. Plus the Metro rail home makes it an even 24 hours of travel. But such is travel to and from Europe. Hell, just 100 years ago, it would have taken weeks, possibly months. Sven and Karin have been gracious and patient hosts. I can't thank them enough.
We spent most of the day just relaxing. I took a lot of pictures now that the sun was out. We went into town, I got some books, and looked for candy. The evening ended with plans for the next day, and I fell asleep around 10pm, after deciding I may never finish "Stranger in a Strange Land," because my memories of how dull Heinlen was as a teen were apparently still valid. I am sorry, guys. I mean, I am halfways through the book, and it's like a reading assignment. I mean, I know how it ends, and the only thing going is that the last time I read it was before I joined fandom, and now I understand a lot of terms from another side but... man. We just don't mesh.