From Stockholm to London
Earlier this year, in April, during my Easter break, I went travelling to see a few of my friends who, just as me, had moved from Stockholm to study. I used the Interailing pass, both to save money and the environment, but also to see more of Europe.
An early Wednesday morning and I took a train from Stockholm to Lund to see Anna, who’s currently studying law at Lund’s University. I’d never been in Lund before, except passing by when visiting my dad’s relatives who live in that area, and I highly recommend it. Being home to Sweden’s top university, basically, all you see is fashionable students on bicycles.
Except for getting a tour of Lund, a town I hope to live and study in some years in the future, we also went to Malmö, a larger city ten minutes away. We sat by the water, looking over to Denmark, as the sun set.
On the Saturday, it was time for me to leave, as I took the train to Copenhagen, in hope to get a ticket to Lindau, in southern Germany. Speaking a mix of Swedish and English, I managed to get on a train to Hamburg, changing to a night train to Frankfurt and then another two trains. The whole journey, Lund to Lindau, took about 20 hours and I stepped onto a rainy platform around noon.
Maria had gone to Lindau to study German before working at a hotel there, in, what to say, a quite boring town. Tourist season hadn’t fully started when I got there, and it rained for most of the time. But to be honest, it really didn’t matter that much, because I got to see Maria.
The plan was to take a late train on the Wednesday, but it was either to sit at a train station in northern Italy between 22:00-05:00 or to take a morning train to Zürich. It sucked having to leave earlier than planned, and getting less time with Maria, especially seeing as I knew I wouldn’t see her until the 6th of July. But I took my train to Zürich, ate an average baguette for €10, paid €2 to use the toilet and got on the best train I’ve ever been on, to Dijon. In Dijon, I changed to my final train, which was going to take me to Nice.
Linnea had moved to Nice for four months to study French through Stockholm’s University, and I came when summer just had come. Which was way too much for my skin who had only been exposed to the cloudy and rainy English weather for the past eight months, so for the first time in my life, I burnt myself. And it was bad. I laid in Linnea’s bed complaining whilst she tweeted about it.
As Nice is close to both Italy and Monaco, we decided to do a day trip to the Italian coastal town Sanremo, just a little an hour away with the train. On the way back, we stopped for tapas in Monaco and I got to see the famous casino. (only the outside, unfortunately)
Obviously, a trip to Nice during its summertime is never complete without going to the beach, and whilst it still was a bit cold to be in the water more than for just a little dip in, it was so nice just having a proper holiday without having to think about school work.
On the Sunday, about 60 hours before my final exam in Film & Television Historiy, my twelve-day trip came to its end and it was time for me to fly back to London. When I came up with the lift to my corridor where I lived, all my friends sat up waiting for me, and I was finally home.