With our much-needed shower behind us, we got a ride back to Reykjavik and our hotel. I spent way too much time trying to figure out a) where we should have dinner before catching the plane, and b) where we should stay in Paris the next day. I was exhausted, and eventually failed to achieve either of those things.
I did, at least, have a good idea of when the FlyBus buses to the airport ran, for us to catch our extremely-red-eye flight to Paris. Though I wasn’t entirely sure how long it would take us to get to the bus station, since the previous morning had also been in a fog of tired, and with a false start trip to the other hotel.
The bus to the airport takes about an hour, so since our flight out was at 1:05 in the morning, we could catch the 22:00 bus and be at the airport the recommended (but in my experience usually unnecessary) 2 hours ahead. Or, as a plan B, we could take the very last bus at all, at 23:00, getting us to the airport really only just over an hour before takeoff.
Eventually, we decided we’d just start walking to the bus terminal and see what we could find to eat on the way. It was already about 21:00 by the time we did this. Not so promising.
The late light in summer in Iceland is disorienting, but very cool. We found ourselves at what I think was a little Thai restaurant, at around 21:30, which was refreshingly reasonably priced, and basically run by a husband (Icelandic) and wife (Thai) team. Ironically, what first caught my attention was the sign outside that promised waffles and, I think, cherry pie or peach cobbler or something. Not sure they were actually serving either of those at that time of night, though. Looking back at it, I don’t recall if their door had any indication of opening hours. There was one couple at a table when we got there, but they were basically finished. Since it was still so bright out, it didn’t even occur to me that it was actually rather late to be having dinner, and most mom-and-pop operations in the rest of the world would already be closed. At the time it felt totally natural, and it would have seemed weird to have the restaurant be closed.
With the lack of usual “it’s late at night” cues, we sat and ate a delicious meal, had dessert, and headed back out into the street at probably 22:40. Yikes. I had a map, so I more or less knew where we had to get to, but didn’t really know about the intervening terrain. It got hilly. And highway-overpass-y and staircase-y. And just a real pain in the butt to negotiate while loaded down with giant suitcases, even ones with wheels.
No taxis cruising around where we were, though we kept an eye out. Since this last bus was already Plan B, clearly an Emergency Plan was also in order. Presumably we could catch a taxi from the bus terminal to the airport at great cost. Throwing money at a problem is far from the best solution, but it’s at least a solution.
Suddenly the bus terminal was in sight. But far away. So we started running (or as close to it as we could with all the stuff we had with us). Felt like a marathon, but we caught the bus with I think 3 minutes to spare.
Standing in line to check in, it occurs to me to go over our travel papers. And I can’t find our Eurail Pass! Each of us thought the other had packed it. The packing process was just too last-minute and crazy. I thought it had disappeared from the dining room table, so I figured it was packed with the guide books. Luscious thought I had all the papers for traveling, passports, boarding passes, etc. Argh! Some more frantic digging in the luggage we’re about to check turns up nothing. None of the Eurail stuff is to be found (map, pass, manual, schedule). We’ll take a more careful look the next day, but if we did leave it behind, what do we do? It’s late Sunday night in Iceland. That means it’s still Sunday evening on the East Coast. Who can we get in touch with who can check at our place? Turns out Howard is gone for the weekend and won’t be back until Tuesday. Ade can and will drop by though. I’m on the phone with him just as we’re about to board the plane, as he is looking around and finding nothing.
By the time we get to Paris, everyone near home will be asleep.
Not good.
Tags: bus, departure, eurail, Iceland, luggage, planb, redeye, reykjavik, running