Well, our passports arrived and now I have no excuse to not go to Portugal*. I have mixed feelings about this though. As I explained, tremulously, during the produção oral of the B1 exam, “tenho medo de voar” – I am scared of flying – and it’s pretty hard to get there by canoe, so I will just have to wash down a couple of diazepam with a generous bottle or two of scotch and hope to wake up there. We’re going in a few weeks time, so it’ll be before the exam, and that should help a lot. When I arrive I’ll be in full homework mode. If anyone tries to talk to me in English, rather than awkwardly explain that I am trying to learn I’m just doing to say “desculpe, sou Dinamarquês” and profess a total lack of knowledge of my own mother tongue in any form. Pro Skills.
*=I know, I know, we’re both in the EU so passports aren’t needed, but in these Brexity times who knows when Theresa May will decide to slam the borders shut?
Luso 
I hate flying with a purple passion too, but if you do this, “couple of diazepam with a generous bottle or two of scotch” you will be flying without a plane and may never come back to earth and hence be eternally flying which would be scary for you.
I do the same thing with language when traveling btw, I get asked a lot of questions in alot of languages. (I have that motherly, therapist vibe as you can tell by my above comment.) After I get tired of saying “I don’t know. I am a tourist too.” I just resort to default “No hablo ingles” to everyone, which doesn’t work well with Spanish speakers.
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It’s true, there’s probably something less drastic I can do to make it more bearable. Trying not to freak out too much in front of my daughter. Fears and neuroses can be a bit contagious can’t they. 🙂
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