After briefly calling into the office to complete a couple of administrative tasks and enjoying a coffee with my lovely grandparents, my girlfriend, Bex, kindly drove me to the train station. It was a fairly easy journey into London and out across to Heathrow, arriving with plenty of spare time to listen to an audiobook - No Cunning Plan by Sir Tony Robinson. Sir Tony's mischievous tales about Time Team and Blackadder made the time fly by and before I knew it, the time came to board the plane. As most flights do, it passed unspectacularly: there was the safety demonstration that our cabin crew had likely performed several times that day, brief nervous tension as the plane accelerated up the runway, then, seemingly a few moments later, we descended through the clouds and I caught my first glimpse of Denmark. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, casting an orange glow onto a grid of fields, studded with small groups of wind turbines. Landing with a gentle bounce, we taxi-d to Billund's terminal and my adventure began.
Having collected my bag from the carousel I walked through arrivals and, despite Billund being a relatively small airport (compared to Heathrow), I was met with at least 100 small whiteboards, scrawled with almost illegible handwriting. I found the sign I was looking for - 'Cruise Baltic' - and introduced myself to the group that was clustered around the lady holding the sign. As expected, we made brief introductions, chatted idly about the flight and made our way to the transfer vehicle. In the back of the small minibus, sporadic chit chat started up: 'what would be the highlight?' 'Have you been here before?' 'It looks like a busy itinerary'. The excited talk reminded me of a school trip; it was wonderful .
We had driven approximately ten minutes before we saw it: a large sign that read, 'Welcome to Legoland', positioned in front of a large castle entrance, made of tiny plastic bricks. Realising that we would be staying inside the park filled me with further excitement, something only enhanced when, unlocking my room door, I found that my view stretched across a miniature wonderland. Below are just a couple of photos taken this morning from my room. Later today is a guided tour of the site so I'll be sure to post plenty of photographs as I take them.
WI
Having collected my bag from the carousel I walked through arrivals and, despite Billund being a relatively small airport (compared to Heathrow), I was met with at least 100 small whiteboards, scrawled with almost illegible handwriting. I found the sign I was looking for - 'Cruise Baltic' - and introduced myself to the group that was clustered around the lady holding the sign. As expected, we made brief introductions, chatted idly about the flight and made our way to the transfer vehicle. In the back of the small minibus, sporadic chit chat started up: 'what would be the highlight?' 'Have you been here before?' 'It looks like a busy itinerary'. The excited talk reminded me of a school trip; it was wonderful .
We had driven approximately ten minutes before we saw it: a large sign that read, 'Welcome to Legoland', positioned in front of a large castle entrance, made of tiny plastic bricks. Realising that we would be staying inside the park filled me with further excitement, something only enhanced when, unlocking my room door, I found that my view stretched across a miniature wonderland. Below are just a couple of photos taken this morning from my room. Later today is a guided tour of the site so I'll be sure to post plenty of photographs as I take them.
WI
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