Travelling to WPC 2010

My journey to the World Parkinson’s Congress in Glasgow could definitely have had a better start. I was travelling with my PD mates: Annika and Lars and we had done the sensible thing when catching a ridiculously early flight: we stayed the night at the airport. How I wished that I also had been sensible enough to check my passport before going to sleep…

I learned the hard way that there is NO WAY that they will let you on an airplane carrying the passport of your 7 year old daughter. Consequently, my poor husband learned the hard way what 6 am on a Sunday looks like. He was met at the Arlanda Express fast train two hours later by a VERY grateful wife carrying a brand new single way plane ticket to Edinburgh wearing a face blushing with shame.

After spending another few hours at the airport waiting for my plane, wondering if Annika and Lars had already had their first taste of any Scottish delicatessen and feeling a bit sorry for the Thai berry-pickers sitting in the departure hall (Thai men and women are every year drafted by Swedish berry-picking companies to travel from Thailand to Sweden and pick lingonberries and blueberries in exchange for very little money. Also, the Swedish berry-picking companies charge an arm and a leg for transport and accommodation, so the poor Thai don’t return to Thailand as rich as they expected to. The world is filled with cynical people…). Finally, I was boarding the plane, only to find myself back on a chair on the inside of the gate half an hour later. The reason was a malfunctioning gyro somewhere on the plane. We passengers waited patiently for an hour and then re-boarded the plane. This time I probably sat in my seat (25C by the way) for a full half hour, before the captain announced that the gyro was now exchanged for a new one.” However”, he added, “we have another problem, totally unrelated to the first one: one of the brakes isn’t working. Unfortunately, this plane will not fly to Edinburgh today.” Every single passenger on the plane let out a sigh of disappointment that was followed by a smaller sigh of hope at the news that another plane would land on the adjacent gate in ten minutes time. That plane would be taking us to our destination after refueling, relocating our baggage and checking the vitals on that plane.

I felt a distinct sense of déjà vu when walking from the plane towards the gate again and hoped that the next time boarding would be the last time I used my boarding card for this journey. Luckily, my prayers were answered and after a bumpy but otherwise uneventful journey on the Edinburgh bus 100 from the airport to Haymarket, I finally caught up with my PD-friends, about 8 hours late and not in the best of shapes in terms of stress and PD.

The day after, we took the train from Haymarket station in Edinburgh to Glasgow and had our first glance of the “armadillo” that is the big lecture hall of the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre (SECC) where the second World Parkinson’s disease Congress was being held. We were looking forward to the congress and wondering what the week would bring. I don’t know about Annika and Lars, but for me, the days in Glasgow forever changed my life.

Sara (aviationally challenged)

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