Letters From Abroad, Part One

First in a series of publishing old emails I've sent to my family and friends since the beginning of my travels.
This one is about some trouble I ran into upon landing in Scandinavia for the first time.

hey hey, im in the dark grey north now, just got some time to sendyou an email. SO, heres the scoop. The trip started out well enough, i got to london at around 11 or 12, thanks to a delayed flight from Zoom. Got there with a positive attitude, because as you know i would have to wait in englands airport there for around 8 hours so it wasnt a big deal. but as you know, the universe has a strange way to balance itself out for better or worse, and discovered that my flight to stockholm was ALSO delayed. So i still had to wait for 8 or 9 hours. Bah.
The flight was thankfully uneventful in both instances, and it was of course great to see Yvonne again. We boarded an Airport coach towards the Hotel, at around 1am, both pretty tired (the last time i slept was at grandma and grampas) but nevertheless happy. about 30 minutes later we were dropped off at our stop, which looked in the middle of nowhere, but in realiy was just on the outskirts of a bad part of town. According to hostelbookers.com, this particular Hotel, Vanadis Hotel&Bad (bath) was 500m away from the bus stop. In which direction, no one knew, but we figured it had to be towards the town so we began walking. After a while, we thought it best to find a map, so when i started looking for it, i came to a shite realisation... "Wheres my passports?"
So as i tore apart all of my carefully packed things in the middle of an intersection at 1.45am in a bad part of town, trying to find the case containing both my canadian and british passports and my address book, i couldnt help but think CEST LA VIE...
After a while with no luck on the search, it hit us that i most likely left it on the Coach, because Yvonne was admiring my impressive new passport photos, and we had been ushered off the bus in a bit of a hurry, and hadnt the presence of mind to do a inventory check... IMAGINE ME, FORGETTING MY SCOUTS TRAINING!
Anyways, after the cursing and kicking had subsided, we decided it was best to find the hotel, THEN the passport, as we had about 150 lbs of luggage with us, and to any clever bandit we were EASY PICKINS!
Regardless.
We lugged on, trying to find the address 142 Sveavagen. So we walked. And walked. And walked... Strange thing about Swedish roads, is just because 140 Sveavagen is in a certain spot, doesnt mean at ALL that 142 will be close by. 143 is, sure, but 142 is nowhere to be found. Whats more, its not on the map. So in a moment of personal weakeness, coupled with my passport woes, i picked up a phone and called the hostel. The conversation went a little something, like this....
"Ya?"
"Hey hello, is this the Hotel Vanadis?"
"Vanadis, yes"
"K man maybe you can help me, i cant find where the hotel is. We`ve been walking for like an hour and cant find 142 Sveavagen"
"142 Sveavagen"
"No no, i know, but i cant find where it is. I found 143 and 140 but not 142"
"Not 143, 142"
"No, yes, i mean dude can you like tell me where to find this place, we`ve been looking forever, can you tell me like if there are any landmarks i should be looking for or..."
"142 Sveavagen"
*click* RETARD...

Ok so fast foward another half hour, and we`ve found the hotel... THANKFULLY, after this complete lack of sleep and walking around for an insane amount of time trying to find this place, it turns out Vanadis Hotel & Bad is on the top of this very tall hill. HOORAY!
We check in, and my first impression of the place is, Prison. The rooms are all about a foot apart, and theres about 4 hallways with about 50-100 rooms in each... The rooms themselves, were equally flattering... 6 by 12 feet of white, windowless glory. Yay.
Now at this point, i would have liked to go right to sleep, but i was not so lucky... Somewhere in this cold scandinavian capital, my two innocent, very expensive passports were riding off to new, strange places. Using the ticket for the bus, we tracked down the companys website, Flygbussarna. We called a few times, but no luck, they were closed till 9. Against my best judgement, we decided that it would be the best thing to go to the city center bus terminal, get the first ticket we can get back to the airport, and hopefully we can catch the passports before some young bastards sell my identity for 50 kronors. it was about 2.30 by this point, and the next bus wasnt coming until about 5 or 5.30, and we didnt even know if they would have it yet. it was all very disappointing. So we wandered and wandered around this area, called the City Center Station, and i couldnt help but notice that there was a whole bunch of shady characters wandering around, and for the middle of the night, it was fairly crowded. At about 4.30, i had a revelation... It was pointless to stick around and then go to the aiport again... If they found it, they will have it, and if it was stolen, it was stolen... It will either be in the Lost and Found and I can get it back, or it wont be turned up and ill buy new ones from the British Embassy in Stockholm.

So we returned to the hotel, defeated, and went to sleep. Woke up at around 11, called the place again, and wouldnt you know it, they had turned up! Good times indeed, and the relaxation returned once more.
Oh yes, and a little tidbit, as we were reading the Wikipedia Travel guide, about what to do in stockholm, it strongly suggested against hanging in the very dangerous area around the City Center Station after dark, as it is covered in gangs, dealers and drunks...
Shit!

Ok thats enough typing for now, and this ends chapter one. Chapter two, the boat cruiiise....

Send everyone my love,
JEM