Arriving in Stockholm

The plane landed at Arlanda just a bit late. I figured we would be met at the airport so I knew we wouldn't have to worry about jostling for a cab. As we all stood in the aisle waiting for the gangway to be connected to the aircraft one of the flight attendants told me I could get my gowns out of the closet as I deplaned. Then, instead, a flight attendant had them out for me and carefully handed them off (I had three bags of gowns)to from the front seat where she had them ready to go. So, off the plane onto the gangway and there are two people standing their, Jack, who was the forward bookend to our kids, was speaking to them, laughing. They were clearly meeting him as they were facing the plane and standing over to the side. They greeted me and the boys and one of them opened the door behind him. No gangway for us. Down the stairs we went to a waiting limo. I met our driver for the week, Kiki - beautiful and professional. Britt-Marie, our week's attendant who works in the foreign ministry (in the off season?) is our attendant for the week. As we got into the car she let us know we would be driving 100 yards to the VIP receiving area. In the building was a lovely waiting room of which the best airline first class lounge is a poor imitation, not merely because we were the only ones there. We seemed, in fact, to be the only ones in the building. We sat and waited. Jack had a coffee, me a diet coke and the boys noshed on chocolates n gold foil wrappers stamped with the image Alfred Nobel. There were other snacks availble, was it cheese and crackers? granola? pastries? I don't recall, but everything was just the right amount. Enough to make you not fear you might take too much and not so much you felt gluttonous looking at it.

There were candles, unscented, and holiday decorations in the hall. There were lovely, comfortable, upholstered chairs and no piped music, no one interrupting, no announcements over loud speakers. Just the head of the Nobel Foundation speaking with Jack about his journey, about finding out about winning the prize, any manner of thing. Quiet, calm, relaxed. Such a luxury to a traveler.

After a bit of waiting we were told it was fine to go. Kiki showed us the back of the vehicle that had arrived and asked if those were all our bags. It looked like something was missing, but the expertise of the people was so much in evidence I doubted myself. I was the one with jet lag, after all. "Jack, did we have five checked pieces?" I interrupted as he continued to chat with Thomas (men hate the word chat. They consider chat feminine perhaps? Chatting it was, all the same. "Yes. Five," he said. And we climbed in to the limo. We arrived at the Nobel Foundation offices where, while the boys and I stayed in the car, Jack signed for his "walking around money." This is why they tell you, in the preparatory emails that you won't need any currency. Nice.

Then off to the hotel. We were greeted by staff, ushered in to a lobby that states with regal but not opulent certainty, "We are a five star hotel." Marble floors, relaxed but well appointed lounge area, rich wood paneling in the bar, and high detailed ceilings. There was no check in, we were simply shown to our room. Rooms. Our luggage was there waiting. It still seemed to me that we were missing something. We have a two bedroom suite overlooking the Norrstrom River to the palace, the House of Parliament, and the spire of city hall. Significant because these are the places of our events. The master bedroom as a raised half-round nook, with windows all about it's outward facing sides. Jack has claimed this one, like he's the laureate, and I am working at a desk in the main room at antique looking desk. The power outlet is hidden under the small mirror, where a brush or pen drawer might have been at one time. To my left is the boys room. Each room has a full bath complete with deep soaking tub. Not that I've had a chance to have a good soak.

We decided to go for a walk and as we returned to the hotel a man stopped Jack and asked for his autograph, Jack agreed but then the man produced several photos. Clearly, these were not intended as personal keepsakes. I wasn't sure how Jack felt about signing these ebay bound pics but once in the room he dropped his smile and was clearly irked.

Next walk out Jack was hungry so, for the sake of the autograph hound I helped Jack brush him off by taking his arm and walking rapidly. Jack with low blood sugar is not someone to be messing with. On our return that evening, after showing him how to walk with a group to keep shielded I ushered back into the hotel, myself between what was now a full bevy of autograph seekers and the like.

Jack has a reputation for being a nice person. He got this reputation by being a nice person. So I said, "OK, new rule. One autograph per person, then we move on." It isn't that he thinks he's Brad Pitt (For my part, I prefer Jack, who has actually changed the world, not just played someone who has.) And he loves people's enthusiasm for science. That scientists here earn a kind of fame is astounding to him, and me. He is at once encouraged (in the larger sense) and amused by it(as it pertains to him.) So we worked it once. It went well and Jack is now great at being his normal, pleasant self while signing one autograph per person.


So, that is how it went we got here. The paparazzi did bot show up until the fifth - the date by which all laureates must be in Stockholm. Perhaps some on that later. Tomorrow I'll catch you up on the events.