The Hobbit: A Quite-Expected Journey

After spending about six days in Pittsburgh, it was time to fly to Norway. To get there, I had to bounce from Pittsburgh to Boston to Reykjavik to Oslo, then take a bus from Oslo down to my city, Moss. After hard goodbyes, I got through the security checkpoint in the Pittsburgh airport and sat down at my gate, nervous and scared until I actually got on the plane and started making progress.

For the record, Boston’s airport is screwed. I mean, just screwed. I had to be the squeaky wheel and ask three airport people how to even get to my terminal (let alone, my gate). I had to go down an escalator, through the JetBlue terminal, then outside, then back inside, then through another security checkpoint that took nearly half an hour to pass. By the end of it, I found my gate with about ten minutes to spare before the pre-boarding started for the flight. I threw out a few quick texts and made one more phone call home before I couldn’t use my cell phone again.

The flight was okay for the first hour, then unbearable for the next three hours. I feel like a goddamn board now that I’m off, and I just paced through the Reykjavik terminal a few times taking pictures. I started thinking about how awesome our technology is that every single passenger on that airplane had a television screen to watch during the flight. There were tiny screens in the back of every headrest, so I could play music, watch documentary-style videos about Iceland, check and see how far along the flight was, even check how far you were from home (but the closest city to home I could pick was Bismarck), or watch some of the newest blockbuster movies. I ended up watching Les Miserables, since I’ve seen it a dozen times by now—I didn’t really have to pay attention, and it frequently puts me to sleep. Aaah, the soothing voice of Russell Crowe.

I started getting antsy about hitting the Reykjavik airport after the pile that was Boston. I think I had a shorter layover in Iceland than I did in Boston, and being the busiest airport in Iceland (I presume), I figured the place would be packed and have a layout as terrible as Boston, and I’d barely make my flight (again).

Nay, worrisome subconscious—this is the best airport I’ve been in all day. It’s just quiet. You look out the windows, and there’s hardly anything around, hardly any cars moving (but that might be because it was barely 7am). It’s really not a huge airport, either. It has something like 40 gates, but it just feels quiet and nice. I walked into the terminal and knew exactly where I was going. It feels oddly like home, and I can’t really figure out why. In any case, it’s quiet—there aren’t overhead speakers blaring commands for passengers every 20 seconds, and there isn’t even any music. Lord, it’s heavenly after being in Pittsburgh and Boston last night.

I even made a friend! His name is Dominic, and he was on the Boston-to-Reykjavik flight with me. I went to the little convenience store in the airport, since I didn’t really eat much yesterday at lunch because I felt nervous and sick. I found a sandwich and a Coke (yessssss), but there was this little kid in front of me trying to pay for a sandwich with massive Norwegian bill. The cashier said she couldn’t make change, so I just picked up his breakfast with mine (which turned out to be $20 for the two of us: two sandwiches, and my Coke). He sat and ate breakfast with me and listed off some things near Oslo I could do.

I hit Oslo and waited patiently (okay, panicked) for my checked bag to circle onto the baggage claim carousel. I grabbed it, hit pavement outside toward the bus to Moss, and barely made it. I was literally the last one on the bus before it pulled out of the Gardermoen-Oslo airport. After about an hour-long bus ride, a guy from the American College of Norway (ACN) drove me from the bus stop to my apartment. We dropped off my bags and headed to the college, and I got the tour from one of the administrators. We talked about goings-on around the college, but we circled back to my apartment.

I’ll probably do another, more in-depth post showing off my current apartment (as I’ll only be in this unit for two weeks until they move me into a different one a couple houses down and across the street from my current unit). For the time being, though, I’ll leave you with this:

I went to take a shower and wash all the traveling stink off of me, since I took a quick shower on Sunday afternoon, knowing I would be able to take a shower again for a while after running through airports and such. I stepped into the shower and turned the cold water on to wash off the jet-lag, and it felt awesome, so I took a mildly-cold shower. I stepped out of the shower and into a quarter-inch of standing water. I’ve been in this place for maybe two hours, and I flooded the bathroom. Go, me!