Author and travel and travel journalist Jennifer Cox appeared on "Good Morning America" to discuss her new book, "Around the World in 80 Dates." In it, Cox recounts her effort to find Mr. Right by globetrotting from country to country and date to date.
Here's an excerpt from Chapter 3:
Gothenburg does itself no favors having a Volvo museum. Drawing attention to the fact that it's the birthplace of arguably the dullest, least-adventurous car in the world is not a PR coup for a city that's easily as hip as Stockholm and just as much the party town as Malmo.
But Sweden generally seems to suffer from a bit of a personality crisis, and I don't think I'm going to win any awards for insight by suggesting it's probably due to the weather. Nearly a sixth of Sweden is north of the Arctic Circle and winter nights last anything up to eighteen stay indoors, stare at the walls for four months hours. From May to August, however, the height of the sun and the tilt of the earth's axis go to the other extreme, creating the midnight sun and up to twenty-three hours of sunshine a day.
And when the midnight sun shines, so do the Swedes. Everyone seems to spin and show, like overwound ballerinas in a music box, making the most of every bright second before the lid slams shut for another winter of introspective darkness.
But maybe the city does its thinking in the dark, because over the last forty years, Gothenburg has been at the forefront of pioneering research into sexology, the science of human sexuality and how it affects us chemically, socially, and physically. And I had an appointment at the university to meet one of the world's leading sexologists; I had come to date the Love Professor.
Date #4: Professor Lars-Görsta Dahlöf --
I'd come across Professor Lars-Görsta Dahlöf in an online article, reporting on a conference he'd held called "The Science of Love and Passion." At the time it was casual curiosity: I thought it would be fascinating to learn more about his theories and ideas. But now that I was here, I realized my questions were less theoretical and more personal. I was slightly unsettled by how my journey was turning out and hoped he'd have some theories that would help me establish whether I stood any chance of success, or could, at the very least, emerge with a shred of dignity. The memory of Willem's blatant disapproval still stung.
The plan was that we'd meet at the reception area of my downtown hotel and then drive out to the Japanese Gardens past the university for a walk and a chat. Now it was 11:30 a.m. and I had literally just checked into my room when reception rang to say the Love Professor was downstairs waiting for me. Damn, he was forty minutes early. I'd hoped to have a quick shower and a moment to gather my thoughts before I met him.
I flipped my bag onto the bed. I'd packed my waterproof jacket and sweater on top—even without his early arrival, I'd known it would be a tight turnaround. As I pulled the jacket out I noticed a puddle of sticky white fluid on the sleeve. I stopped dead and looked at it, mystified. Gingerly I checked my bag; nothing was broken. I really didn't want to smell it, but -- and I had no good feelings about this -- what the hell was it? I was tired and feared I was going crazy, but …was it possible a baggage handler had opened my bag and …?