Wednesday, August 14 -> Thursday, August 15
Okay so it's a bit after 6, i've got like four hours before my flight. Breezed through security. They had the equipment set up for those controversial new biometric face scanners, as well as signs explicitly defining your right to opt out, but they didn't even ask me. Or anyone else near me. The scanners went unacknowledged by TSA and passenger alike. All of the passengers.
I wonder if enough people have refused the scans that they've just given up. That would be nice. But i don't think it's likely.
My backpack is mostly camera equipment, so i had to unload almost everything, which got shoved indiscriminately back into whatever pockets it would fit as soon as i was on the other side. Just to get out of the way as quickly as possible.
My boarding pass didn't have a gate number on it, so after security, i arbitrarily headed left and looked for the nearest flat surface to repack my bag. As i was doing so, a woman came up to me and said, "You're carrying a lot of camera gear, you must be a professional. Could you take my picture for me, please? By the flags, to show my mom i made it safely to America."
Amanda's spirit IS with me. Now I'M the one who gets asked to take people's pictures. This happened three times in Chicago yesterday.
Also, tangentially related! SEVEN separate people across Chicago flagged me down to tell me they love my hair. Molly!! I know you're reading this. You did that!!
Bag fixed, i noticed a screen with flight information across from the bench i was working on. I found my flight, gate M30, which happened to be in the direction i was heading already. Convenient! I soon passed by another flight board, and because i'm paranoid, on the flyby i checked my gate again. M33.
Huh. Must've gotten that wrong.
I still had a substantial amount of time before my flight, so i figured i'd just scout out the gate so i knew where i was going, then double back and explore my food options.
I got to M33, and there was an Emirates Air logo on the screen, and a red plane in the dock. Dock? Dock. I'm going with dock.
This is not my plane, i'm on Icelandair.
The seating area was packed, and a long line had already formed near the door. Good to know, it's certainly a good time to go grab food, by the time i'm done eating this should all be cleared up and i should have my pick of empty seats to camp out until go time.
Found a decent Cubana sandwich that was less overpriced than i expected, and ordered it to eat in at the restaurant's small seating area. There was a long bench across one wall, which serves six tables, some two tops and some four tops. There was an additional row of tables next to it, with a short wall opening up to the main thoroughfare. It was completely empty.
Being alone, i picked the two top closest to the kitchen wall, which kind of boxes me in, but gives me a good view of everything, and of course the additional wall to lean on. The introverted loner special. I dropped my backpack on the booth seat next to me, which kind of splayed out behind the four top to my left.
The waiter came out and took my order. Alone, relaxed, waiting for food in an empty dining space, i took off my mask to enjoy my drink while i waited.
Four Karens came in and, with an entirely empty dining area, sat themselves at the table directly next to me. I had to move my backpack and listen to them complain about the airport, and their travel itineraries, and the service at this empty restaurant, for half an hour. You know. Just Karen things.
Ladies. I don't know why you've made any of these choices. You're in my airspace. You don't have to be. You don't seem to be enjoying your vacations. You could have sat four tables away from me. Why are you here.
The sandwich was good though.
I returned to the gate and...that Emirates flight was still there. The long line of waiting passengers was still exactly where i'd left it. People looked agitated. I don't know what was going on.
I found a spot outside of the fray, next to a working power outlet, to chill for a bit and write my Chicago log. I was barely started on it when i got a text from Icelandair that my gate had been moved to M27. Which is great, because i couldn't understand anything that was being said over the loudspeaker. I would absolutely have missed that.
Two other people on the same set of chairs as me got up and headed for M27 at the same time. Must've gotten the same text. Must've also seen the pileup at M33 and said F that.
Moved to M27, went through the process of finding a power outlet that worked (why do so many airport power outlets not work?), finally got comfortable and started writing my journal again...and heard my name called over the loudspeaker. I've never had my name called over the loudspeaker at an airport before. Is this dread?
I couldn't understand the rest of the announcement, but several other people got up and approached the gate desk, so i followed. There was an older couple at the head of the line, they showed their passports, and were asked to put their carry ons into the sizing box to see that they fit.
At this moment, i panicked a little. Originally, the backpack i wanted to bring on the trip would have fit the description of "personal item," so i hadn't paid for any luggage. After GenCon, it became extremely clear that backpack was not going to cut it, so i bought a bigger one. I went to add baggage to my trip, and found that my tickets do include a carry on. I pored over the Icelandair web site for the specifications for carry ons, and i couldn't find any requirements for dimensions. In fact, the table that lists the personal item dimensions has a blank cell for the carry on. The weight requirement is 10kg/22lbs though.
When i first packed my bag a couple days ago, it weighed in at 30lbs. I had to make some tough cuts to get it down to 20, because i wanted a few pounds leeway, just in case. I'd stressed out enough over this bag. I didn't know if it was going to fit in the carry on box.
The woman at the counter was tough, no nonsense, and very good at her job. She made that older couple check one of their bags. I was worried.
My bag looks like a triangle. The way i had it packed, it was definitely bottom heavy. So, with four people ahead of me in that line, i suddenly knelt down and started frantically repacking my bag again to make it more uniform from top to bottom, hoping like hell that it would fit in that god damn box.
This fear is also playing off an unfortunate incident Amanda and i had two years ago flying Frontier. We have had our rolling travel bags that were designed to the exact specifications of a personal item for years. We went back to Wisconsin for a wedding, it was our first time flying Frontier, since Spirit had pissed us off a few months earlier, and we had high hopes. We were living in Los Angeles at the time, but we still had a whole lot of our stuff in Wisconsin, so we didn't need to pack much. The two personal items were fine. We had connections both ways, so four flights total. The first three, no issues. The final flight, this dickhead at the gate said one of our personal items "didn't quite fit" in the box, because it had to be "pushed a little to get in there," which has never, ever been a written requirement and not something we have ever been told before that moment. "Must slide easily in and out of the box." Says who. You fuck. We got charged an extra $100 to get the bag on that flight. I found out later that Frontier's baggage checkers at the gate get paid commission. After that, we stopped flying budget airlines entirely.
Anyway, back to Icelandair.
So now i've repacked this bag in a hurry for the second time, my stuff is in complete disarray, and i've just discovered that one of my zipper locks and two of the keys are missing. I feel like they got left at gate M33 in my scramble to pick up all my electronics and move gates, but that is too far away now to go check, and if i left it there, it's probably been picked up by now. First item lost on the trip.
I'm worried about the weight, also. I just plopped the thing on my bathroom scale at home. Who knows how accurate that really is, especially for a soft-sided container like a backpack. I'm shoving hard drives and batteries into my vest as i'm doing this.
A second Icelandair employee comes up to the desk right as the person before me walks forward. He calls me over. I zip the bag and hope it stays in a roughly parallelogram shape long enough to endure the box.
He scans my passport. Then he prints me a paper boarding pass. Not sure why that was important, the electronic one should have been fine. Then he says, "Just the backpack?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'm just gonna stick this tag on it quick." He pulls my bag toward him and slides a luggage tag through the top handle. It says "Approved Cabin Baggage."
He sends me on my way.
Well that was 778 words of pure terror that amounted to nothing.
I returned to the seating area, and my chair, with the working power outlet, was taken. I found another. There were still a lot of empty seats in the area.
The Karens sat down across from me.
I didn't wait long. I soon decided, i'm about to board this six hour flight, i should go to the bathroom and fill my water bottle. This seems like an IDEAL MOMENT for that to happen.
When i came back, that seat, too, was taken. The area was pretty well filled up by now, but i found a seat over near the window, where i could see my plane.
I didn't bother with power at this point. I just whipped out my laptop and tried to finish up yesterday's log. I was getting so close, or so i thought. The plane started boarding, so i slammed out some words about seeing Larry, and got the thing posted before i had to leave the wifi behind.
It was good to see Larry. I should go to Chicago more often.
Because of this, i was one of the last passengers to board the plane. My seat was near the back, too, so i waded through the slow-moving crowd forever before i got there.
I was fortunate enough to have a window seat for this flight. As i approached my row, there was a couple in seats B and C, staring me down as i approached. I know that look. I've made it myself. The look of, "god damn, we were really hoping that the window seat person wouldn't show up so one of us could take it."
"Is this you?" one of them asked, preparing to stand up.
"Yes, but i need to get something out of my bag, give me one minute," I said, hoisting my backpack into the overhead bin.
"Okay, let me know," she said.
I fished around in my bag, trying to find the USB cable to plug my phone into my power bank ("The Big Orange Battery," i usually call it, and probably will from here forward), but with the mess i made of everything at the desk, i couldn't find it. I'd put the battery in my vest with my phone, but not the damn cable.
I accepted that my phone was not getting charged tonight, and assumed my window seat.
I had a really hard time sleeping. My watch says i got 4 hours 10 minutes, but i have a hard time believing that.
At what would be 2:30am Central time, i was jolted awake by a blast of light to the face. The sun must have just come out from behind or under the clouds, because it was full daylight out there. I'd left the windows open while i slept. I don't know if i got back to sleep, other than the occasional few minutes of light doze, after that.
Soon after, we passed over some mountains. I'm assuming it was Greenland. They weren't the snow-capped mountains you always think of, but rather the opposite; they looked like their peaks were poking out of the snow, like the entire mountain had been buried in a fine powder. Eventually, it became clear that there was a huge river running between them.
Majestical.
I got my first look at Iceland a bit later. Gorgeous sprawling landscape. Looks like they drive on the right here, too.
This city looks very small. I know Reykjavik is about half the population of Madison, but i guess i still expected to see more...buildings.
Honestly? Probably the smoothest landing i've ever had in an airplane. Usually there's a bunch of clunking and a concerning jerk when the wheels hit the tarmac. Today...just lightly kissed the ground, and rolled on. Chef's kiss to the pilots.
We were instructed upon landing that travelers connecting to the United Kingdom could proceed to their gates, all others must go through Passport Control first. Since i'm (a) heading to Denmark and (b) planning to leave the airport to explore Reykjavik during my eight-hour layover, i went ahead and did that.
Passport Control was completely empty when the passengers from my flight started flooding in. Somehow i ended up near the front of the line.
"How long will you be in Iceland?"
"Oh, about eight hours. I'm on a layover."
"Where are you going?"
"I just thought i'd go explore Reykjavik a little."
"No, i mean, after this."
"Oh! Denmark."
"How long will you be in Denmark?"
"Probably about four days, then i'll be exploring other parts of the EU on the Eurail."
"When do you return to the United States?"
"October 15."
"So that's...two months. What is the purpose of this?"
I had to stifle a laugh. I know what she meant, but her phrasing and tone were extremely funny.
"Just for fun i guess."
"Okay. As long as you don't exceed your 90 days. You can go."
There was no obvious way to go from Passport Control. I needed to stop at a flat surface and repack my bag again, plus i wanted to zip the arms and legs back onto my vest and shorts, to have a jacket and pants, because it's cold and raining in Iceland today. I know this because we deboarded the plane onto the tarmac and then were loaded into a bus to get to the terminal.
Beyond that, i needed to find a way out of the airport and to public transportation. A bus, or a train, whatever they have here. And i need to figure out where i'm going. My intention was that my first stop would be the Iceland Punk Museum, which is built in a former underground bathroom facility.
I got my bag taken care of, plugged my nearly-dead phone into the Big Orange Battery, connected to the airport wifi, and searched for the address of the punk museum. It was nearly 10am, my flight to Copenhagen leaves at 4:30pm.
It's 51km away. The bus will take 72 minutes to get there. It doesn't leave the airport until 11:45, and it costs 27 euros.
My heart sank. That puts me at the museum at about 1:00. For my 4:30 international flight, i figured i should be back at the airport no later than 2:30. So basically. I could pay €27 for an hour fifteen bus ride, look at the museum for fifteen minutes, and then head back immediately.
The Big Orange Battery died. I plugged in my backup power bank. My phone's battery percentage kept going down, even though it registered as "charging." This thing is a piece of shit. Should've tested it before i left.
I paged through my list of other things i had wanted to see in Reykjavik. They're all in the same area.
That's when i realized that i have made a huge mistake.
I am not in Reykjavik.
The airport is in Keflavik.
So i quickly searched for things to do in Keflavik. Atlas Obscura has nothing. The popular tourist web sites list a number of things, but they're mostly outside and are still pretty far away from the airport. It's still raining.
I opened an article of Top 10 Things In Keflavik or whatever, and the number one highest rated thing is Viking World, a Viking museum. Sure, why not. It doesn't open until 11, but it says it's...also an hour bus ride away. And the bus doesn't come until almost noon.
Finally i just opened Google Maps to see what the hell is even near here. There's the Icelandic Rock N Roll museum, looks like it's not too far. That could be fun.
Half hour bus ride, the bus, again, does not come to the airport until 11:45. And there's only one option for the return trip that will get me back by 2:30, if i miss it, the next one isn't until 4:30, and i'm fucked. So best case, i could have an hour and a half at the museum, and exactly one shot at making it to my plane on time.
I guess i'm not leaving the airport.
This.
This sucks.
I have a layover here again on the way back, but it's 22 hours. At that point, it will be worth it to pay the €27 for the shuttle to Reykjavik. So i guess i'm just gonna have to explore Iceland on the way back. At least i'm not losing it entirely.
It's 12:35 now so i've clearly already made my decision. Rather than leave the airport, i've written another long-winded journal entry about mundane experiences in airports.
My travel journals tend to be very stream-of-consciousness and first draft-y, you're gonna have to get used to that. I'm just writing down as much as i remember, whether it serves the story or not.
I guess i'll go walk around and explore the airport a little? See if there's anything else here? Most of the restaurants were still closed at 11am. I finally found a place to get a smoked salmon croissant and a chai latte. It was pre-prepared, fast food, so that's not the best, but hell, it's still fresh Icelandic salmon, and that ain't bad at all.
Also there is a lot of construction going on around here.
I found a bar to sit at that has power outlets at each stool. The first one i tried didn't work, but one did eventually. My phone is fully charged now. Getting the laptop there.
I don't know if there's going to be a full "Day 2" entry, since this is probably about all that i'm doing. But i will be in Denmark by the end of the night, and i will see Cyndi & Jake, so maybe i'll have at least a few paragraphs to say about that!
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