It started as these things so often do: a sprinkling of rain in the East Coast, a late plane, a missed connection... the typical song and dance.
I’ve had a particularly bad run of travel luck lately, culminating in 3 cancellations and 12 hours of cumulative delays across 5 days and, ultimately, 9 total flights. (1 flight became 3 in a particularly loathsome rerouting.)
Plane karma is, sadly, not a real thing, and instead of being a given a grace period, the plane gods decided to instead transfer the bulk of my luck to my mother.
A quick caveat: canceled flights on vacation are the ultimate first world problem. They’re also stressful and exhausting and no doubt will increase as climate change continues. And this means that we all need better coping mechanisms, airlines included. I'll hop off my soapbox now.
This semi-structured chaos led to two different treks: my mother’s Odyssean journey across three different carriers and my walk to and from Viking World.
It sounds like they shouldn’t compare, but you’d be wrong.
We had one day in Keflavík before flying to Bergen and the original plan was to do either a Golden Circle tour or see about exploring the Reykjanes Peninsula. I instead had the day to myself and the most reasonable place to visit – picked solely for the name and not because I actually did research – was Viking World. It was the perfect day for a long walk: warm (for Iceland) and sunny and not terribly breezy to boot.
The hotel was at a converted NASKEF building, which meant crossing the airport road to get to Keflavík proper. My primary concern was how to run across four lanes of traffic without turning into Frogger. What I neglected to think about was my poor choice of footwear (espadrilles – I’d packed those and rain boots given the pre-departure forecast. Mistake, but more on packing later.) for traversing the wide open expanse of the base.
I expected sidewalks. This time, I was wrong.
Before I got anywhere near the highway, I was crossing a patch of lava rock, came down crooked, and took a spill. I took the hit on my right side, landing on my camera which in turn landed on my phone. Amazingly, nothing broke except for my good thermal leggings and the skin of my palm and knee, but the camera lodged itself right under my rib cage and knocked the wind out of me. I was a sight.
Not to be deterred, I kept going (once I got my breath back), got honked at and waved to by some bro-y tourists, and eventually made it to the highway and strategically made my way across, no Frogger-ing to be seen. Bruised and bloodied, albeit no conquering hero, I made my way to Viking World.
