Step 1: Denial
Shoot out of bed in hopes that there’s still time to catch your plane that was scheduled for take-off ten minutes ago. Despite the fact that the airport is a 30 minute taxi away, your bags are in disarray because you were planning to finish packing after your morning shower, and it’s now 7:45 am (15 past take off) you’re still frantically seeking solutions.
Step 2: Self Criticism
How could you be so dumb! You never do this. You’re supposed to be in Copenhagen. You can’t believe you.
Step 3: Attempting to Patch up the Problem
“Hello…I missed my flight, can I transfer my ticket to later today?….Oh, you have to transfer before take off? Can I transfer a future ticket instead?…It’ll be cheaper to buy a new flight?…How much is a new flight?…Right. Thanks. Yeah yeah, you have a nice day too.”
Step 4: Wallow
Apologize consistently to the friend you were supposed to see in an hour. Lay in bed, eating a chocolate bar and apple: the only food in your cupboard. You didn’t go grocery shopping because you weren’t supposed to be here. Why are you up this early; take a nap; it’s not like you can do anything now.
Step 5: Denial Part 2
Don’t take a nap. After staring at the ceiling in wallow phase for 10 minutes, you bounce back. There has to be a way to fix this. You continue to search flights, that you already know the prices of, believing the prices may magically drop. Should I just go to the airport? Maybe they lied to me? Maybe I can just sit there and sneak onto a plane.
Step 5: Acceptance fueled by Frustration
You’re an idiot. Accept it. Go for a run. Cool off.
Step 6: WHYYYYYYY
Find the culprit of this fiasco. “Stupid iPhone; why didn’t you wake me up!” Huh, Oh… 4pm. Interesting..not 4am.
Step 7: Wallow Part 2
Go for a run? Am I crazy? Nope, the bed is mine all day. I’m not moving. Netflix we have a date. If only Ben and Jerry’s existed in Italy, you might have truly resigned to bed for the day.
Step 8: Acceptance Fueled by Boredom
Yep, you’re still an idiot. But, on the bright side, it’s all your fault. Why don’t I use military time on my phone, then I wouldn’t have this issue. Smart, smart, smart. Change your phone to military time.
Step 9: No More Wallowing
Alright, You’re going for a run. Yep. You’re gonna get out into the world, face the sunshine. After repeatedly having flashbacks of how sad you are at your own idiocy, and realizing the excitement built up inside you from researching Copenhagen and Sweden, you devise a plan.
Step 10: The Plan
Make the best of your problem. You have an itinerary already made for Stockholm, Sweden, you just have to adjust the scenery. You go for that run, take a double shot of espresso, and grab your computer to buckle down for planning:
As you may have guessed, I missed my flight this weekend. Due to some time errors on my cell-phone alarm, I didn’t wake up at 4am to shower and catch my flight. Unfortunately, I still woke up early enough to look at my clock at the moment my plane was leaving the runway; what a cruel world.
But after my rollercoaster of a morning, I decided I couldn’t sit on Netflix for three days, especially since binge watching is reserved for week nights. So I looked at my list of things to do in Stockholm, (a friend was showing me Copenhagen, so I didn’t have an itinerary for there) I mourned for a moment, and then did my best to create a Swedish adventure in Rome.
Breakfast was meant to be cinnamon buns. Sweden’s famous for the pastries drenched in sugar. I was especially looking forward to this, because my favorite breakfast place in Chicago, Anne Sathers (Swedish), has the best I’ve ever tasted. Unfortunately, there are no Swedish bakeries in Rome, but one French, and the only place with the delicious breakfast treat in the city.
Next on the itinerary was seeing the old bank where “Stockholm Syndrome” originated. There’s no replica of this ever-important monument in Rome. So that was skipped. But much of the afternoon thereafter was reserved for wondering a park island, with water, flowers, bicycles, etc. The Villa Borghese, though not an island, served as wonderful nature substitute.
Apparently Sweden is a hub for immigration, which lends the city to a diverse spread of food. Although pasta will always have a place in my heart, I was looking forward to tacos, dumplings, boba, curry, you know.. not Italian. So lunch was Thai food. Let me just say, Italians are not kind to outside food, because the amount of effort it took to find good places was harder than it should have been, and, all the non-Italian restaurants were on the outskirts of the city.
(I forgot to take a picture of my food. But I got green curry and egg rolls; they were perfection.)
There was a McDonalds stop on the walk to my next excursion, because they have COCONUT MILKSHAKES in Europe, and it was cheat day. Then thrift shopping. Sweden is notorious for the amount of vintage/thrift shops it has. There’s a part of Stockholm labeled as “hipster central,” and although Gucci and Valentino are at my fingertips everyday, I’d say thrifting is more my vibe.
The thrift stores in Rome, however, are non-existent. I found two on a tiny street in the city center, but most things were still pricy. The stores said more high-class vintage than secondhand. But I did try on these snazzy pants (did not purchase)
An artsy cafe was on the horizon. I read about a place in a garden with a piano and record player in Stockholm. No garden in the Roman cafe, but record players around the place that you could use to play different jazz albums. Unfortunately, I wasn’t savvy enough to look the location up, and the place was too far out of reach to be worth it. So I walked down the river, and back home before the rain came, to get ready for dinner.
Tacos. Well, at least that was dinner in Stockholm. Of the two Mexican restaurant in Rome, the most popular was booked for the entire week, and the second was…subpar. But we went anyway. The burrito wasn’t quite up to my Southern-California-Taco-Truck standards, but the guac and experience were worth it.
I laid down in bed feeling sore from exercise the previous day, and ate some Tiramisu, which I picked up earlier. Not a bad day, it was good to branch out in Rome. I’ll come for you another time Sweden.
Bri the idiotic and redeemed barefoot traveler