On my way to breakfast, I settled my bill. Rhodes has a local tourist tax of €10 per night, which was added alongside my bar tab for all the Piña Coladas and Cokes—nothing too painful, thankfully! Today I finally ventured over to the children’s section at the buffet and served myself some pancakes—it only took me seven days to build up the courage!
Back in the room, I watched an episode of Reacher before taking one final shower. Honestly, the water flow here was better than my shower back home! I double-checked my bag weights one last time and checked out. Then I took the “long” four-minute walk down to the marina where the transfer bus was set to pick me up.
I sat on a bench soaking in the last bits of Rhodes sunshine and sea breeze. The bus picked me up right at eleven—a comfortably air-conditioned, full-size coach this time (unlike the minibus from my arrival). We made more stops along the way to pick up other guests. At the final stop, one passenger was missing; the guide from Apollo called out the name on the bus, but got no response. Luckily for them, they turned up shortly after, and we set off on the final fifteen-minute stretch to the airport.
Last night, I had a sudden moment of panic when I realized I hadn’t checked in online for the flight. I searched the Apollo app for a check-in option but couldn’t find anything, which made me a bit anxious on the ride over. I tried to convince myself that if online check-in were required, they surely would have sent a text or notification. Plus, I had already pre-selected and paid for an aisle seat, so I hoped I was covered. As we approached the airport, the Apollo guide announced which desks we should head to, confirming that we’d receive our physical boarding passes right there at the counter. Crisis averted!
Since I move a bit faster than some of the older passengers from the bus, I ended up fourth in line at the check-in desk—helped by the fact that the bus dropped us off at arrivals, requiring a quick four-minute walk to the departures area. Check-in went smoothly: my bag weighed in at 14.7 kg (nicely under the 15 kg limit!), and I proceeded straight to security. There were no clear instructions on what to remove, so I simply emptied my pockets into my bag and placed my watch, phone, and belt in the same tray as the bag. They didn’t even ask me to take out my laptop, despite the scanner looking significantly older than the modern ones at Arlanda. No complaints from me!
Since I hadn’t ordered any food for the flight, I went straight to find lunch. Burger King had a short queue, so I grabbed a burger and found a seat to eat. Unfortunately, the table was right behind a glass window in full sun with no airflow, so I brought out my fan for the second time this trip, and ate fairly quickly to find a better-ventilated spot. I even managed to hunt down a power outlet to charge my phone—essential, as I planned to stream TV shows during the entire flight home!
I went to buy some drinks and snacks, and noticed that a Coke was actually €1 cheaper in the duty-free shop than at Starbucks. By the time I walked over to the gate, boarding had already started—20 minutes ahead of schedule! We were bussed the short 100-metre distance from the terminal to the aircraft, presumably because the path crosses an active airport road.
The rear stairs were completely clear, but I headed for the front entrance anyway. There was no signage indicating which rows should use which door, but when I stepped onboard, the middle section was still empty, leaving plenty of room in the overhead bins. The plane lacked seatback pockets, though, which was a minor disappointment.
I was surrounded by young families, with couples holding small babies on both sides of my row as well as in the row ahead of me. Boarding was completed super early, by five to two, but an air traffic restriction delayed our takeoff for about 35 minutes.
Thankfully, the restriction lifted and we took off only a few minutes behind schedule. I spent the entire flight watching Reacher. The journey went smoothly, and the babies behaved remarkably well, with just a bit of crying during takeoff and landing.
We landed at Arlanda at 17:10 local Swedish time. Instead of pulling up to a jet bridge, we were bussed to the terminal once again. I suppose it was for the best, as the tight public transport connection home I had maybe hoped to catch was already out of the question anyway. It was a six-minute bus ride from the plane—you can cover quite a distance in that time! Our baggage wasn’t even listed on the screens when we reached the claim area. My bag turned up eventually, and while waiting, I spotted two loose pairs of swimming trunks floating along the belt!
By six, I had cleared customs. I grabbed a burger at Max to kill time while waiting for my bus, which departed for Kista at twenty-five past six. Just after seven, I finally walked through my front door. As soon as my cats heard my voice, they came running to greet me in pure joy (or at least something resembling it!). It’s going to be wonderful sleeping in my own bed with my own cats tonight, but it has truly been a fantastic week!