3am, wide awake. We have only gone to sleep 2 1/2 hours earlier, and didn’t need to be up until 4:30, but the excitement was too much. Plus, I woke up congested with a scratchy throat. I guess I hadn’t avoided catching Conor’s cold after all. And thus starts our cold-ridden, sleep deprived journey.
We soaked up one final rooftop view of Coit Tower and the Bay Bridge and said an emotional goodbye to my beloved apartment and roommate of 4 1/2 years (emotional = uncontrollable sobbing). Conor talked to the cab driver about his adventures in Europe the entire ride to the airport while I sat silently, concentrating hard on not crying so I wouldn’t use up all the tissues I packed for the plane.
Our first flight to JFK was easy. Too easy. We should have known that with Conor’s horrible traveling juju this luck would not last. Sure enough, our second plane was experiencing mechanical difficulties and needed a two hour repair. Two hours – exactly the amount of time allotted for our layover in Iceland.
We missed our connection from Iceland to Amsterdam. When we finally arrived in Iceland, it was 9am (Iceland time) and we hadn’t slept in what felt like days. That’s when they told us that there’s only one flight from Iceland to Amsterdam per day, so we’d have to spend a day and a night in Reykjavik and fly out tomorrow. And by “have to”, I mean “get to”…with a free hotel room and meals included.
Iceland was amazingly gorgeous, but I’ll save that for the next post.
After our time in Reykjavik, we were finally on our way to the ‘dam. At this point, I think we were too tired and sick to be excited, so we just went through the motions to get us to our new home.
Upon arrival, we were delighted to see that all 5 of our checked bags made it! (With Conor’s bad traveling luck we were pretty much expecting a lost-luggage situation). Somehow, we stuffed all 9 bags and 3 people into the tiniest of cabs. On the ride into the city I tried SO hard to keep my eyes open. It was raining, but beautiful.
We got dropped off on the opposite side of a very busy street from our Airbnb. It was like Frogger (in the rain with car and bike lanes) trying to get our bags across to our Airbnb on Overtoom. We were greeted by 4 flights of skinny, windy stairs (68 stairs total). Needless to say, Conor got quite the work-out.
Ever heard the saying, “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey?” Well, screw whoever said that. Besides our delightful, unexpected stopover in Iceland, the journey pretty much sucked. But we made it to Amsterdam, and in Amsterdam, there’s cheese.