Esquires Coffee Shop, Auckland, New Zealand
I’m having trouble writing about my trip without boring the hell out of myself, so here! Have some pictures!
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Aspen House, Auckland, New Zealand
It’s my first day in a new country, the farthest from home I’ve ever been, and I’ve spent the majority in bed, watching West Wing. I’m fine with this. The exorbitantly expensive cab that I took from the airport (note to self: it’s best to check for cheaper transportation options BEFORE one has left in
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San José, California, USA
“The flight today will be three hours and four fun-filled minutes.” I fell asleep at 12:30am (or thereabouts) and woke up at 4:26am (four minutes before my alarm was set to go off, also known as “before god early”). I was dreaming about arriving in New Zealand. In it dad was dropping me off —
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Philadelphia, PA, USA
Usually at this point I’m feeling mildly frantic, wishing the trip would just happen so I could stop thinking about it. I don’t feel that way this time. I don’t feel much of anything, in fact. Instead of racing around with a delightfully crazed look in my eye I’m playing solitaire, knitting, reading (not about
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Hótel Hellissandur, Hellissandur, Iceland
At breakfast this morning they were playing the same damn song, still on repeat. I can’t imagine what it must be like for the people who work here. Some cereal and gjetost1 later we got into the car for the drive to Hvamm. Hellissandur is at the western end of the Snuffelupisberg2 peninsula, and Hvamm
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Hótel Hellissandur, Hellissandur, Iceland
Slept just fine, though woke up at 11:45 to a repeating rolling and banging crash. I first discerned if I was awake (yes), and figured out what the sound was (fireworks) and by the time my foot hit the floor to check the view it had finished. Bastard fireworks. I woke up in the morning
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IcelandAir Hotel, Reykjavík, Iceland
Up late this morning (comparatively – 10 am is rather late for my parents), then off to center city Reykjavik. (Mom and Dad) I’m in my room and exhausted, and watching some bizarre British show in which women complain about things. Shopping with their teenage daughters, coffee shops, “Saturday girls”1… I don’t get it but
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2:53am, IcelandAir Hotel, Reykjavík, Iceland
The worst damn airline food I’ve ever had. The brownie was good, though. Click for notes! I don’t think I’ve ever had so much trouble getting from airport to hotel. We’d made the plans through Icelandair (via a travel agent) and our itinerary said we’d have a “meet and greet” at the airport. Maybe this
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11:38am, JFK Airport, New York, USA.
We left the house this morning at a little after 8, and as tradition goes, since we allowed a ton of time there was no traffic and we breezed through security. I think this trumps all other early arrivals, though: this go-round we were four (OMFG FOUR) hours early. The only glitch so far is
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