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So, it turns out that running through the airport, full speed, carry-on-luggage swinging violently and passport in hand, ready to beg for another flight, just like they do in films, is really, really fun. It gives you a quick adrenalin fix for a short minute and a half. Then you notice that you can’t breathe (airport air is really dry), your carry-on, which you thought you had packed lightly, gets really heavy, your feet ache from running on the hard airport-floor and you really wish your flight hadn’t been delayed, causing this Olympic-style sprint to the transfer centre, which appears to be located as far away from the gate you were just at, as physically possible within the constraints of the building…My flight to Brussels was delayed due to a ‘technical problem’, and although that run to the transfer centre nearly killed me, I’m glad they discovered the problem on the ground and not midair. I had my route redirected and had to wait till 3 hours to catch a plane to Bangkok. I thought I had plenty of time to stroll around and get some food, but it turns out a salad is much more difficult to acquire at Cph airport that you’d think. Travel tip number 1: most restaurants in Cph Airport close at 21.00…3 hours and tons of ‘I’m-bored-entertain-me-please’-phonecalls to my boyfriend later, I boarded the plane and fell asleep before we even took off. The flight was smooth and fairly comfy, although the food wasn’t amazing, and I arrived in Bangkok surprisingly well-rested. (I think I owe my thanks to the ear-plugs they handed out on the flight, which made sleeping so much easier.) I had almost forgotten how much I enjoy travelling – it’s been so long since my last far-away adventure. But as soon as I got off the plane and started walking through Bangkok airport, it all came back to me. The foreign smells, the heat, the souvenir shops, the foreign foods, the mix of travellers from all over the world… I love it! I love that the airport flower shop sells fake flowers and boxed orchids, I love that there’s samples of 5 different kinds of rice cakes in front of the shops, I love that half the signs directing people around are in language I have no chance of understanding, I love hearing so many different languages at once and I love the souvenir shops are full of porcelain elephants, lemongrass candles, wooden elephants, more boxed orchids, elephant key rings luxurious snakeskin wallets and elephant-shaped money purses. Not to mention dried pineapple, dried papaya, dried kiwi, dried mango, dried guava, dried melon. Heaven! I’m still debating with myself whether to spend some of my Australian bikini-and-flip-flop-budget on dried fruit. I think I might have to…
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