The Granddaddy

Tivoli Gardens is amazing. This large city block puts Central Park to shame (and could teach a few other amusement parks some tricks).

The spring flowers are beyond comprehension. Everything is in bloom.

The fountains are captivating.

Even the railings are handmade, over growing with trees and vines.

And the rides are classic, like the 99-year-old scenic railway, simply known as "The Roller Coaster."

What started as a 90 minute visit, is now turning into an all-day visit at Tivoli. And that is something to be very thankful for.

Warp Speed Ahead

Onward to Nation #2.

Earlier tonight we said goodnight to Volvo's home country of Sweden and crossed the boarder in Denmark.

We crossed into Denmark over the Øresund Bridge over the Øresund Straight. The five-mile-long passage eventually leads to a man-made island and then through a long underwater tunnel.

The Swedish people are absolutely delightful. We'll carry their warmth with us throughout our journey and home to the USA on four wheels.

Next Stop: the famed Tivoli Gardens!

To the Max

Today, we became a member of the cool kids clique.

The majority of the cars on the road are Volvos. Most of the cold weather gear is Helly Hansen. And those on NBC's "Saved by the Bell" all ate at a burger place called "The Max."

We hit the road with new wheels, which lead us to Adam's favorite clothing store, Helly Hansen Outlet (imagine HH to be a lot like The North Face. Their jackets retail at a favorite Orlando theme park for $300+. Here, we got deep discounts. In fact, the manager was SO impressed with Adam's knowledge of his product, he slashed the prices even further). And at checkout, he gave us new key rings, in the shape of a lifejacket... Just incase the new car keys hit water, they will float and not leave us with a sinking feeling.

Dinner came in the form of Miami Burgers at The Max. Imagine Maxi's to be the hip Scandinavian version on McD's, right down to the 70s-era lights. And the music: pure Swedish pop.

A cool day indeed.

Derka Derka

After giving the new car time to say good bye to its corporate headquarters, we headed out in search of a German registration tag.

In Germany, drivers must pay an environmental tax if they want to motor about in the city.

To show you've paid the tax, you better have a green sticker on your dash.

That's when our mad dash began to find Derka. It's like a Shell station, Mobile station or Sohio station where your vehicle's emotions are tested. A cleaner burning car, the lesser the tax.

With the sticker on the dash, our wings are no longer clipped.

The Door Opens

It's the top prize of any game show:
"A NEW Car!"

And today, it feels like we hit the bonus round.

In true Volvo fashion, we were picked up in a Volvo & driven to the factory.

We dashed through the Swedish countryside, over rivers and across bridges. With the gray clouds, Sweden looks a lot like Ohio in the winter.

Our driver told us to stay and celebrate "May Day" tomorrow. It's a national holiday in Sweden when floats hit the streets and residents here can say anything they want to politicians. As we quickly learned, the new car also knows what you're saying (more on that).

Upon arrival, we quickly signed some papers, got our insurance and then, the new ride rolled in.

Through a garage door, similar to the "Price is Right," appeared the new ride, lights on, top down. After backing the C70 into position, we were allowed to say hello.

The car is amazing. The interior color selection works perfectly with the blue exterior. In the light of the garage, the car looks almost black. Outside in the natural light, it looks blue.

One of the options: connect your phone to the car. Now music from the phone broadcasts to the radio. And phone calls are now always hands free.

Also free, our Swedish Meatballs for lunch!

There's a full tank and an open road calling our names. The world is waiting!

The First Rides

The first thing you notice on the streets of Gothenburg are the sheer number of Volvos. In this town that produces most of Volvo's inventory, it's not surprising.

Also not surprising, spending Day 1 in Europe sightseeing at an Amusement Park.

Liseberg is a traditional amusement park that has survived recessions, World Wars and changes in tastes and cultural revolutions.

The architecture is traditional turn-of-the-century, mixed with extensive gardens with mature trees and (mature) statues that would send American park guests running for Guest Relations in angry mobs to complain.

We rode and dropped and twisted and flipped and plunged at Liseberg. The last, "Plunged," is particularly important because it was around 1 Degree Celsius when I challenged Adam to do the log flume.

"I've never met a log flume I didn't like," I quipped upon seeing this classic model.

Liseberg's flume uses the steep terrain to it's advantage with a double drop finale. Soon, we were getting in a line that stretched 10 minutes. In this bitter cold, plenty of Scandinavians were happy to celebrate Liseburg's opening weekend by getting moist. And we did too (see photo below. We purchased the picture, only to hear Scott exclaim upon inspection, "I look dead!" Adam then reasoned with, "We've only gotten FOUR HOURS OF SLEEP in 2 days.")

Lunch was enjoyed inside a root cellar with a haunted past. There was no traditional theme park fare here, rather we dined on rock shrimp, baked flatbread, flounder and a soup that tasted as if it was a mix of squash, corn bread and candy. And in this darkened basement, paranormal sound effects only added to the mood.

And for this being a cold opening weekend, the flowers at Liseberg were out in force and beautiful.

Monday, we'll watch Adam's spending.

"I can't be gambling on Kit Kat bars if we're going to be staying on top of a mountain!" It's a long story, but at Liesberg, park guests plop down cold coins for a chance to win GIANT, oversized candy bars (like the man on the bench below and the stroller moms).

Plus on Monday, we'll get our first look at "a new ride" that will only add to the Volvo count in the local streets.

Signs of Sweden

They are the signs we've arrived:
A) Everybody is Blonder than us.
B) This is ABBA nation
C) There is a Volvo sign with your name on it!

Sunday was spent on our third flight from Stockholm to Gothenburg. Adam read. Scott napped.

After touchdown #2, we met the band ABBA, kinda. Sorta. No Dancing Queens here. Rather, their puppets. And they are creepy.

Following the 3rd flight, we were picked up and taken to our hotel in downtown Gothenburg. That's when the wind hit us. It is Ohio cold here. Blistering winds and a chill in the air.

No naps here on Sunday. EuroCoaster'13 rolls in Liseberg Park for rides & coasters a plenty.

The SAS In-Flight Diner

"I haven't eaten this well on an airplane ever," I thought as Helga debuted our dinner.

At 37,000 feet, SAS Airlines gets 5 stars (and the stars are out as night falls and the temperature drops. See the photo below).

Pulled from deep inside the recesses of the beverage cart, a tray emerged with a 4-course meal. Never did I imagine airline food could have come this far (more on that below).

Upon examination, the tray was overflowing with airborne delights.

"When was the last time you got dinner on an airplane?" Adam pondered as dinner was served.

The salad bowl was filled with half lettuce and half cc. The tray was peppered with cheese, crackers and cutlery sanitized for our protection.

The main dish was much different than the last airline chicken I devoured.

"Chicken Surprise," as Adam called it, proved to be delightfully tender and moist. Plus, it came with green beans and rice, all of which was restaurant quality.

That wasn't the case in 1989 when flying from Orlando to Columbus after enjoying Premier Cruise Lines and a Disney vacation.

"Be sure to eat everything, because I'm not making dinner when we get home," my mother stated from over the airplane seat back to my sister and I.

One problem: the meal decades ago was not food, rather rubber.

My sister and I skipped the salad (dehydrated at best), were frightened by the vegetables and eventually hid the chicken in the vomit bag found in the seatback pocket in front of us. I maintained a lookout, while my sister Christy stuffed. Afraid the flight attendant would have her feelings hurt, we sneaked the vomit bags home to our Westerville, Ohio home where the next Friday, they were found on the curb.

Tonight, there was nothing left on Adam's tray or mine (or in the vomit bag).

Now, lights down as we slip away to sleep on the edge of the heavens.

Take Off!

"I'm the only one wearing short pants!" Adam exclaims as we board leg # 2 for Stockholm.

He's in shorts. The rest of the passengers on our SAS flight are in pants, since it's still winter where we're heading. Oh, And most passengers here are blonde.

We're hearing very little English at this point. It's a good start, since when we land around 12:30am EDT, we'll be in the old country.

As we gaze at the Manhattan skyline, we say goodnight and "LIVE From New York, it's Saturday Night!"