Scandilands

Midway through last month, I made my first foray into Scandinavia. I stayed in Sweden's south-west, near Malmö, and it was gorgeous.

I moved to France last September, to a tiny town called Tours, in the Centre region of France. I won't withhold the town it's charms - it is beautiful in the sun and there are a ton of chateaus and museums to visit round about. But it is a very difficult place to travel from. By plane, I can get to five destinations pretty easily - London, Manchester, Dublin (sometimes), Marseille and Morocco. To get anywhere else, pretty much the only way is through Paris.

So I took my almost two hour journey up to Paris, wondering the whole time why the engines of French trains, even the fancy and costly express service I was on, sound more like something you'd find on a plane. (I still don't know why this is. Another French phenomena to add to the list.)

I was met at Gare Montparnasse by a friend who had recently moved to Paris, and we took the métro back to her place.

I'd always imagined that my first trip to Paris would be a little more touristy but sadly this was not possible. I managed to be impressed only by the long walk from Gare Montparnasse to Montparnasse Bienvenüe, the métro stop.

Above, my photography skills exerted on Montparnasse.

I stayed one night with my friend, quietly with a pizza and Archer and the next day she left for work and, with some delay, I left to get my plane.

I was very worried about everything, to be honest. I'd never been to Paris before, wasn't quite confident about how I was getting to the airport, nor how long it would take and the airline I was flying with didn't allow me to check in online.

And then, to top it all off, I got back to Montparnasse, where I was getting a coach to the airport, and realised I had left my card in my friend's appartment.

Honestly, I could have cried. I was imagining all the things that could go wrong, all the charges I could possibly be subject to. My friend was at work, and probably would be there until late: there was no way for me to get my card back.

I made my way to the coach stop, hoping my poorly printed ticket would be accepted. It was, but that, in some ways was another layer of worry: what if I got to the airport only to find out that I couldn't board if I hadn't checked in online? That I had to pay something like Ryan air's 70€ late check in fine? No coach ride should be so fraught with worry.

I arrived at the ghost town that is Paris Orly Airports after dark well before check in opened, which only gave me more time in which to worry and be nervous. I seemed to see some people with official looking documents that I didn't have - did I need them?

I was so nervy when check in finally opened and I got to the desk that my French and my English both failed me and the attendant looked on at me with obvious pity.

But I made it through. It was kind of shocking, after the wasteland of dead space I'd become used to, to be in Orly's boarding lounge with it's reading area, games room and banks of computers for public use, but it was the kind of shock I could definitely get used to!

Boarding went almost smoothly - except for when the boarding gate was changed without any announcement being made - but even when I was on my plane with it's fairly plush seats and free wifi for all passengers I couldn't properly relax.

My arrival in Copenhagen marked the end of step two of my journey. Although the plane landed early, it was still about eleven, and I was by no means close to port.

I felt a moment's reprieve from the stress of the day as I got into arrivals and saw my partner waiting for me, but it didn't last long - we barely had time to hug before we were rushing to catch the train across the Öresund bridge and into Sweden. Sadly it was dark, and so I was unable to pay any attention the this beautiful journey, but I'm hoping to get more opportunities in the future.

My stay in Sweden wasn't very touristy. My partner took me to his favourite spots in Lund and Malmö and I marvelled at a country that functions even when it snows.

The Kings Park in Malmö, so called because it's the grounds of a castle. Possibly the least castle-y castle I've ever seen: from a distance it looks like one of those fire stations built in the sixties that are scattered around London. I'm sure up close it would be much more impressive.

I'm a person who is always impressed with waterways. Having grown up with the Thames, which is probably one of the ugliest rivers I've ever seen, it was nice to see such a beautiful, clean, large waterway - with ducks! London's canals are lovely, yes, but I was charmed by Malmö.

My stay was only too short, and I would love to wonder around Sweden some more in the near future, to see more of the towns of Lund and Malmö as well as the much smaller town where my partner lives.

So, fingers crossed for the future!