by Jojo O'Neill
Assured by the police and the homeless man that the airport was a good place to sleep, our taxi driver dropped us off in the remote Goteburg City Airport
" I persuaded my best friend to come and see paul mccartney in sweden with me, she'd never flown before so was nervous enough. She gets scared of big places, dark places, scary people and scary things so I made sure a hostel was booked. On arrival to hostel, they decided it would be funny to tell us there were no rooms left but we could sleep on the owners kitchen floor if needs be. In too much of a hurry to care, we strode to the concert, expecting a good time, but endured an 8 hour wait for the concert to start, so our kitchen floor stay was out of the question. Assured by the police and the homeless man that the airport was a good place to sleep, our taxi driver dropped us off in the remote Goteburg City Airport, "Have a nice flight" the cheery response as we found locked doors and minus 4 temperature. With no security guards in sight, the thick scary fog and my scared best friend, we stumbled to a tiny, hard wooden bench to ponder this matter. All notices were in swedish, but we translated the 8 as meaning the airport wasn't opening until 8am, and it was now 11pm. bugger. so we gathered our warm clothes, ie 2towels, wrapped them around our head and tried to fall alseep. throughout our stay people would drive out of their way to laugh at us, which would have brought out the appropriate disgusted "what are you looking at" look from us if we hadn't been wearing towels around our head and looking like we had just been kicked out of a homeless shelter for being too scruffy. I never did get any sleep. As the airport doors opened, we hugged the security guard who had obviously laughed at us via camera throughout our 9 hour bench stay, and flung ourselves onto the deserted cafe benches. an hour later we woke up to our own snoring, smell and drooling to find a cafe full of highly amused passengers staring straight back at us. I've never been so glad to get out of sweden, but before we could we were stopped at customs, frisked, probed and sent away to the UK in disgust as a teaspoon in my bag had held up the whole airport."