In 1999, I was in the process of selling a business in Maribo, Denmark. I had been to the factory three or four times, but always with someone else driving. On this trip, I was going alone so I had to figure out how to get there.
I decided to fly to Copenhagen and take a train to Maribo. I had been going back and forth frequently between Europe and Houston, so I started out really tired. I took an evening flight to Paris which landed at nine o’clock in the morning, Paris time. I waited an hour and a half in the Paris airport for the flight to Copenhagen. I was so tired already that I sat next to the door to the gate so it would wake me when people started getting on the plane.
I don’t remember how long the flight to Copenhagen was, probably three hours. I had lost my appetite, but there was a continental breakfast in the Business Class lounge. I had, can you guess, a Danish.
I was able to board a train an hour or so later at the airport. It was a three hour trip, but I had to change trains twice. I worried that I would fall asleep, miss a connection, and wake up in Germany or somewhere else far away from my destination.
To make matters worse, the announcement concerning the next stop was always garbled and, of course, in Danish. So I had to be alert enough each time the train slowed down to look out the window and see the name of where we were stopping on a sign in the terminal.
I finally reached my destination. The train station was tiny and no one was there. I walked outside and it was dark, very cold, and snowing. Like any good traveler, I had the name and address of my hotel to give to a taxi driver. The station was on a busy intersection with cars whizzing by, but no taxis were in sight.
There was a pay phone nearby, but I was unable to read the phone book and unable to operate the phone. I was exhausted, but not worried because I had yet to meet a Dane who could not speak fluent English. A bus went by and I flagged it down. There were no passengers, the driver did not speak English. Neither did the next few people who walked by about every fifteen minutes.
Finally, a man appeared who spoke a little English. I said the word “taxi” and pointed to the pay phone, the phone book, and held out my hand full of money. He was a nice man. He picked out the right change, looked up a number, dialed it, and ordered a taxi.
Twenty minutes later, a taxi pulled up. I showed the driver the name of my hotel. Although I didn’t understand what he said, I am fairly sure that he was mad. I had been at the train station for at least an hour, dead tired, shivering in the cold, confused and worried, waiting for a taxi to take me two blocks to my hotel. I gave the driver a nice tip because the fare was very small for the short ride.
The next day, the general manager of the company I was selling picked me up and asked, “How was your trip?” I had been able to sleep for eight hours. I told him that it was a wonderful trip and that I really loved his country.
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