You arrive at the airport on the specified date and time of the beginning your journey, with your ticket in one hand and a carry-on in the other. After checking in and waiting an hour and a half in the passenger's lounge, perhaps with a coffee or a magazine to keep you company, you finally get to board the plane. Pleasantly surprised, the attendant gestures for you to head up to the First Class cabin, where another stewardess leads you to your comfortable seat and offers to fetch you a snack and/or refreshment. The cabin slowly fills up and eventually the captain is speaking to the flight at large in greeting, then a little catchy video comes on in the screen of the headrest ahead of you on the rules, regulations, and safety procedures of the airplane.

It seemed to drag on, but finally, you feel the huge aircraft rolling forward, forward, until there was a lurch and it launched itself into the sky.
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The flight was rather uneventful. You might have watched one of the numerous movies offered by the screen in the headrest. You might have brought on a book which you decided to go ahead and read. Or perhaps you might have just fallen asleep, catching up on rest for the big adventure. Whatever you ended up doing, there was nothing of note that occurred during the flight.
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After a long (and in some cases, long long) time, the crackle of the captain's voice spills out of the overhead speakers once more, announcing that the descent into the Swedish airport has begun. Eventually you feel the wheels of the aircraft make contact with the landing strip, resulting in a rather hard [b]bump[/b]. When the airplane has come to a complete stop, you and your fellow passengers click off your seat belts and retrieve your belongings, and single file, you exit.

All of you pour out into the arriving section, just a floor above the luggage claim area, where you instinctively head to. There, you wait with the others, eyes scanning each bag to see if it belonged to you. After a couple of whole turns of the wheel, however, you finally realize that a tall, stoic-looking man, dressed in a rather formal suit and tie, was holding up an eraser board with your name across the room. Complete with a driver's hat and gloves, he only nods curtly when you make your way over to him and confirm that it was you he was waiting for. "You luggage is already waiting in the limousine," he says rather monotonously, and though he does have an accent, he sounds quite normal speaking English. "If you would follow me."

You follow behind him as he strides ahead, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of this new country - even though it was still only the airport. Already you can see signs in Swedish, advertisements for products that didn't look at all familiar. Eventually you and your new companion reach the exit of the airport, and there, parked at the curb of the pick-up section was the limo, as promised. The passenger door in the back stood open, and your chauffeur goes to bow you into the vehicle. "Please help yourself to anything you need. The others will join you shortly."

And with that, you are left alone to gaze at the sleek black interior of the car, at the tiny lights that shone from the floor, at the mini-bar that held a medley of both alcoholic and nonalcoholic beverages. You settle in, and prepare yourself for whoever else enters the limousine, whoever else had received the invitation and was joining you on this adventure.