Opportunity, it's said, knocks but once. So when the opportunity to bring home a beautiful year-old Scottish Terrier came knocking, we jumped at the chance. One hitch, though - "Rosie" lived in Sweden.
Weeks of planning went into arranging to visit my best friend in Amsterdam and then jetting off to Gothenburg, Sweden to fetch Rosie. Seasoned traveler that I am, it seemed like a piece of cake. The flight over was uneventful (an encouraging sign these days!), the weather was gorgeous, and Amsterdam a spectacular sight.
And then the trouble began...
I awoke the next morning to the late breaking news the rest of the world already knew. Iceland's recently erupted volcano was pushing an ominous, invisible cloud of ash across Western Europe and Scandinavia causing airports closings and disrupting travel. Having three days yet to spend in Amsterdam I thought, "Not to worry, this will all blow over quickly." Well, "quickly" stretched to eight days! Travel updates from the airlines were basically non-existent, their 800 numbers were flooded, and hotels were so overwhelmed they couldn't extend reservations nor accept new ones. Not having the faintest idea of when flights would resume nor how or when I'd get to Sweden, I now faced the prospect of being "homeless"' or some facsimile thereof. Frantic e-mails home, to the folks awaiting me in Sweden, and to my travel agent did little to ease my fears.
Alternative forms of travel - trains, busses, rental cars, horseback - soon became my obsession. Anything with wheels and engines, just to get moving again! Investing 5¬ hours spread over two days standing in line, I was finally able to obtain train tickets from Amsterdam to Gothenburg - a 17- hour albeit beautiful journey. Thus, one week after arriving in Amsterdam for my three-day reunion, I arrived in Gothenburg in the dead of night. I was exhausted but elated, too, that I was finally closer to meeting Rosie and the wonderful people who raised her.
Mother Nature was still holding court throughout Europe and Scandinavia with her cloud of volcanic ash. I had gotten as far as Sweden, but there was still no clear sign of when the airports, including Gothenburg's, would re-open. Of course, by then, this was getting to be rather old hat. My time in Sweden now extended, I spent the next three days getting to know Rosie, her human "parents," and the 14 Scottish Terriers she lived with - and was that a sight to behold!
The scenery had changed, I was now with Rosie, but my days continued to be bracketed with a seemingly endless volley of e-mails and phone calls home and to my travel agent. The looming questions remained - when will Rosie and I be able to travel home? Will Gothenburg's airport be opened tomorrow, and the Paris airport, where we connect to Boston? Did I still have confirmed reservations? Was Rosie confirmed to fly in the cabin with me?
I checked my e-mail hourly. No answers. Sleep did not come easily nor last very long.
Roll forward. It's 3:30 a.m., Saturday, April 24 - D-Day, with any modicum of luck. The house is now wide awake. We're off to Gothenburg airport with Rosie calmly sitting in her shipping container and my nervous stomach full of buzzing bees.
The airport was open, our airplane was actually at the gate, and people were waiting to board. Was I dreaming? As that plane lifted off I counted my blessings, not the least of which was that we were truly on our way home.
At 3:30 p.m. Boston-time that Saturday Rosie and I were reunited safe and sound. Her new life in Andover had finally begun.
Aren't happy endings just the best?
Tom Adams is a Pine Street, Andover resident.
