The sweet sound of an alarm at 4:30am. Nothing quite like waking up while the rest of the world is still wrapped in dreams. By 5:15am we were already dropped off in the airport. And guess what? I managed to check in online. For a flight to the US. A rare occasion, surely.
Security was a breeze, the walk to the gate was smooth, and that's where the fun started.
Because the flight was full, gate agents began tagging hand luggage to go into the hold. Fair enough. But instead of just tagging them and the passengers then leaving them by the aircraft, they left the tagged bags sitting in a corner at the gate. Once we were all packed like tired sardines into the bus, the agent probably suddenly realized that the pax are leaving and he still has a pile on carry-ons there. Cue frantic suitcase delivery service inside a packed bus. He was bringing the suitcases in the bus one by one and trying to find the rightful owners.
Flight to Copenhagen? Uneventful. Glorious, actually. Which was a relief because we had a 6-hour layover and big brunch plans.
We stashed our bags in airport lockers and headed into the city. Naturally, I had already scouted out the perfect brunch spot. We got there five minutes before opening, which was a great approach, because just a few minutes later a queue of about 20 hungry Copenhageners formed.
But the wait was worth it. We had the most ridiculously overpriced grilled cheese and boiled egg with sourdough bun.
Next stop: the Little Mermaid. But before we could reach her, we stumbled into an accidental wonderland - cherry blossoms in full bloom along the coast. The park looked like Little Japan tucked into Scandinavia. So many photos were taken and happiness levels peaked.
Back to the airport we went and the next 8 hours went by pretty quickly. In no time we were in the immigration line in Boston. Two questions later and boom - we were in. No questions about the clown, no desire to search my phone.
Feeling adventurous, I wandered over to Starbucks to try their new Spring Selection—lavender this, oat milk that, seasonal flair all the way. Being the caffeine-dependent human I am, I asked the barista which of them had coffee in them.
Him: No coffee.
Me: None of them?
Him: No coffeine
Me: What's in the Lavender Cream Oatmilk Latte?
Him: No caffeine.
Me: No shot of espresso?
Him: No
Me: ...I’ll get a cappuccino.
Him: Name?
Me: Gaili.
Cup label: Rayli.
While waiting, I checked Starbucks’ website. You guessed it - the Lavender Cream Oatmilk Latte has two shots of espresso. Classic.
Then came the six-hour flight to Vegas. It was… miserable. I was seated in the third row from the back, in the direct blast zone of chatty flight attendants who were deep into discussing wedding plans. Loudly. For six. straight. hours. Combine that with constant turbulence and you get what I can only describe as a very long and miserable flight.
We landed in Vegas exhausted, stumbled to the hotel, and got our room key with just enough energy to collapse. But alas, our room was... not cleaned. The bed was a sad tangle of used sheets and there was a charming pile of dirty linens on the shelf like some kind of passive-aggressive decor choice.
Back downstairs we went. Got a new room. Got a $25 drink voucher (small wins). New room had a made bed - yay! - but wasn’t really cleaned otherwise. Half an hour later turned out that the toilet was clogged. We looked at each other, looked at the time (11pm), and decided: we deal with this tomorrow.
Our heads hit the pillows and that was it.
Security was a breeze, the walk to the gate was smooth, and that's where the fun started.
Because the flight was full, gate agents began tagging hand luggage to go into the hold. Fair enough. But instead of just tagging them and the passengers then leaving them by the aircraft, they left the tagged bags sitting in a corner at the gate. Once we were all packed like tired sardines into the bus, the agent probably suddenly realized that the pax are leaving and he still has a pile on carry-ons there. Cue frantic suitcase delivery service inside a packed bus. He was bringing the suitcases in the bus one by one and trying to find the rightful owners.
Flight to Copenhagen? Uneventful. Glorious, actually. Which was a relief because we had a 6-hour layover and big brunch plans.
We stashed our bags in airport lockers and headed into the city. Naturally, I had already scouted out the perfect brunch spot. We got there five minutes before opening, which was a great approach, because just a few minutes later a queue of about 20 hungry Copenhageners formed.
But the wait was worth it. We had the most ridiculously overpriced grilled cheese and boiled egg with sourdough bun.
Next stop: the Little Mermaid. But before we could reach her, we stumbled into an accidental wonderland - cherry blossoms in full bloom along the coast. The park looked like Little Japan tucked into Scandinavia. So many photos were taken and happiness levels peaked.
Back to the airport we went and the next 8 hours went by pretty quickly. In no time we were in the immigration line in Boston. Two questions later and boom - we were in. No questions about the clown, no desire to search my phone.
Feeling adventurous, I wandered over to Starbucks to try their new Spring Selection—lavender this, oat milk that, seasonal flair all the way. Being the caffeine-dependent human I am, I asked the barista which of them had coffee in them.
Him: No coffee.
Me: None of them?
Him: No coffeine
Me: What's in the Lavender Cream Oatmilk Latte?
Him: No caffeine.
Me: No shot of espresso?
Him: No
Me: ...I’ll get a cappuccino.
Him: Name?
Me: Gaili.
Cup label: Rayli.
While waiting, I checked Starbucks’ website. You guessed it - the Lavender Cream Oatmilk Latte has two shots of espresso. Classic.
Then came the six-hour flight to Vegas. It was… miserable. I was seated in the third row from the back, in the direct blast zone of chatty flight attendants who were deep into discussing wedding plans. Loudly. For six. straight. hours. Combine that with constant turbulence and you get what I can only describe as a very long and miserable flight.
We landed in Vegas exhausted, stumbled to the hotel, and got our room key with just enough energy to collapse. But alas, our room was... not cleaned. The bed was a sad tangle of used sheets and there was a charming pile of dirty linens on the shelf like some kind of passive-aggressive decor choice.
Back downstairs we went. Got a new room. Got a $25 drink voucher (small wins). New room had a made bed - yay! - but wasn’t really cleaned otherwise. Half an hour later turned out that the toilet was clogged. We looked at each other, looked at the time (11pm), and decided: we deal with this tomorrow.
Our heads hit the pillows and that was it.
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