Reykjavik to San Francisco

The final leg of our trip was the flight from Reykjavik to San Francisco airport. We flew WOW Air, a budget Icelandic airline.

After waiting for a mechanical problem to be corrected, we were in the air and on our way home. G mostly snoozed, and I mostly binge-watched Netflix shows I had downloaded in the Reykjavik airport.

About 8 1/2 hour later, we were on the ground in San Francisco. Tired and hungry and sore from sitting so long, we stumbled off the plane and into the airport. After waiting our way through the immigration line, we emerged in the airport.

We caught an Uber and made it home by 11PM. Exhausted, I went straight to sleep. I had work the next day.

Last Day in Reykjavik

On this day, our last in Reykjavik, we woke up and ate the included breakfast at the hotel.

After packing up or bags, we headed out into the city to see Reykjavik in daylight. The highlight of the walk was stepping inside the performance hall, Harpa. I'd spent several days in Reykjavik in 2013, but I'd never been to Harpa before.

Harpa has one of the most interesting architectural styles in the city. While blocky and dark from the outside, it is light and colorful on the inside. The geometric windows create patterns of light on the floor. There are souvenir shops on the bottom floor, but as you ascent the levels of stairs, sounds of musicians practicing reach your ears. These musicians are practicing for concerts, likely later in the day. Unfortunately, we didn't have more time. If we had, we might have stayed to listen to one of the rehearsals. As it was, we had to return the car by 4PM, and we still wanted to stop by the Viking World museum near the airport.

The highlight of Viking World was the full size Viking ship replica hanging in the main room of the museum. Patrons are allowed on the ship to explore and take photos. Again, we were short on time, and I could have spent a bit more time exploring the museum grounds, but I did get my picture taken on a Viking ship!

By 3:20, it was time to head to the airport, Keflavik. Keflavik is less than 10 minutes from Viking World. We hit a snag when trying to gas up the rental car, but turning in the car went off without a hitch. Before 4:00 PM, we were in the airport terminal checking in.

Next stop: home.

Keflavik to Reykholt (the Reykholt in northern Iceland)

We arrived in Reykjavik in the middle of the afternoon. Exhausted (after only about an hour of sleep on my end) and a little disoriented, G and I made our way to the Hertz counter to pick up our rental car. At the counter, we found out that our car was an hour away at a municipal airport. We're still not sure how the mix-up happened, but we were fortunate that the rental guy was able to get us a car at the Keflavik International Airport where we were.

Neither of us owns nor drives a manual vehicle, but as we are in Europe, a manual car was our only choice. We ended up with a tiny VW Golf. Whenever we go on a car trip, G always drives. This trip is no exception. G took the wheel, doing very well for someone who only drives stick when we are in Europe.

Our plan for this trip is to follow the Ring Road. Basically, the Ring Road is a route that goes all the way around the country. As it is still only April, and there is still snow and ice around, this may be difficult or even impossible. There is the very real possibility that we will have to turn around once we get to the eastern part of the country. We've read that April is often hit or miss for weather - you can get lucky and encounter passable roads, but you can also see road closures because of ice and snow. Since the weather changes frequently, we still aren't sure what to expect.

Leaving the airport, G turned us in the direction of the town of Reykholt (the one in the north). Apparently, Iceland tends to reuse names for their towns, meaning that there are at least 2 Reykholts in the country. After stopping at a grocery store and coffee shop for supplies, we began our trek. Tomorrow night, we plan to stay in a town called Akureyri. Our goal today was to get a couple of hours closer to Akureyri. That, we did. We drove through to the town of Reykholt. Honestly, there's not much between the airport and Reykholt. There's nothing in Reykholt either, except for the guesthouse where we are staying. Really, this town, if you could even call a handful of buildings on the side of the road a town, is just a place to spend the night. There are no tourist attractions, and there's nothing much of interest here.

On the drive to Reykholt

Until tomorrow...

First Real Day in Peru

2/11/14  9.53 PM

Today we spent our first real day in Peru. The day started with an hour and a half flight delay in Lima. Apparently, the weather in Cusco made the flight impossible until later in the morning. We both snoozed upright in our seats while waiting at the gate. Normally, I'm not able to sleep except under very specific conditions, but this morning I was so exhausted that I was able to snooze just a bit.

The flight itself wasn't bad. I was expecting lots of turbulence due to bad weather, but there really wasn't much. After being treated to meal service (on an hour and forty-five minute flight), we were quickly ushered off the plane and into the arrivals hall, full of people looking for their bags and others pushing tours.

Normally, we wouldn't allow ourselves to be accosted by one of these gentlemen. Today, we didn't have much choice. Plus, we were tired. I can blame almost anything on being tired. A trip on the train to our destination, Ollantaytambo, would cost around USD $85 per person one way. A man selling tours approached us. We explained that we needed to get to Ollantaytambo. He offered us a private driver for $45. Not cheap, but better than the train. I wouldn't usually hand a man selling questionable tours my hard-earned money, but this time I did. He led us through the airport and out a sort of back way. 

Outside the airport stood dozens of eager young Peruvian men, all wanting to be your taxi driver. The tour man handed us off to one of these men who led us to his slightly-beat-up Toyota parked in the dirt parking lot of the Cusco airport. Apparently, everything that is said about drivers in Peru is true. The concept of lanes is very fluid - drivers tend to make their own lanes. Because of this craziness, drivers tend to honk ALL THE TIME. Essentially, they are honking to let pedestrians and other drivers know that they are there.

Somewhere across town, we were dropped off and ushered into a minivan. The driver introduced himself as Juan. Juan kindly announced each new town we passed through on the way to Ollantaytambo. Unfortunately, I was so tired from yesterday's activities that I couldn't even keep my eyes open and even snoozed a bit. Besides being a finicky sleeper, I am not at all known for my ability to sleep in any moving vehicle, so my extreme exhaustion is evident. 

I managed to open my burning eyes long enough to witness a girl with a large pig, another girl crossing the road with a cow, and some beautiful mountain and valley scenery. After we arrived in Plaza de Armas, the main square of Ollantaytambo, Alli asked me if I had seen the dead pig on the side of the road

No, no I had not.

Ollantaytambo is a small village in Sacred Valley between Cusco and Machu Picchu. The village was once the royal home of Emporer Pachacuti. Now, the town is a good resting point before seeing Machu Picchu.

We easily found Hostal Chaska Wasi and checked in. The man at reception handed us a key attached to a purple stuffed ape thing and led us to our room. 

After resting for a couple of hours, we ventured into the adobe-walled Incan village. Dirty dogs, many with simple red or blue collars, roamed the cobblestone streets. Beyond the main plaza, cars were forbidden; the ancient streets are too narrow. We meandered through the grid of streets as children played and local adults went about their business. It was already late, well after 3 PM, so we didn't wander for long before we stopped for dinner at a place that had a special on pizza.

After dinner, we headed back to the hostel to wind down for the night.

Tomorrow, we will acend to the ancient Incan ruins of Ollantaytambo.

Journey to Peru

Feb 11, 2014 1:42 AM

Months ago, my friend Alli and I booked tickets to fly to Lima, Peru. Neither of us had ever been, so we decided to venture together. We booked at different times on the same day. The result was that we were on different flights from San Francisco to Atlanta, but we were on the same flight from Atlanta to Lima.

After we booked the flight, we essentially forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago when we realized that we had to start booking hotels an tours. We also had to get the appropriate immunizations.

We rushed around to get everything done in time. We met a couple of times to make plans, and we both made doctor's appointments.

Suddenly, it was February 10th and time to fly out to Lima. We boarded our separate flights (Alli boarded hers about 8 hours before me as she had a much worse connection).

Now, we are at the Lima airport. We are basically stuck here for the next 5 hours until our next flight leaves. I was expecting a fairly empty airport, mostly shut down. I was wrong. Near arrivals, there are dozens of taxi drivers and hundreds of family members waiting to pick people up. Apparently, a number of flights come through Lima in the middle of the night, so the airport doesn't really shut down. All the restaurants are open, as are the kiosks and convenience shops.

Lima airport.

Every few minutes, an announcement comes over the speaker at a very high decibel. For the first hour or so, we were dealing with the loud scraping noises of metal chairs and tables being dragged across tile flooring as the cleaning crew. And now, we are being serenaded by music emitting from Manos Morenas (yes, that's the real name of a nearby restaurant).

From here, we fly to Cusco. From Cusco, we will take a bus or maybe a taxi to Ollantaytambo, Sacred Valley. Only another 7 or 8 hours of travel time left.

Sigh.

Off to Sweden

It's 5AM, and I'm on my way to Keflavik airport. My next adventure awaits in Stockholm.

Flying to Paris

Today, we are flying to Paris. Our flight leaves San Francisco at 10.50AM. We will fly to Chicago and make our connection through to Charles de Gaulle airport. We should arrive tomorrow at about 9 AM.

G looks excited, doesn't he? He's never been to Paris before, so I get to show him around the city!  We're going to have such a great time on this trip.

Wild and Crazy No Internet Day

Tuesday, May 24th, 2011


I can’t get the internet to work for anything.  Google keeps telling me it’s a problem with my DNS servers, but since I’ve tried all the other options it gives me, the only thing left is to restart the modem, and of course I can’t do that.  So it looks like I may not have internet for the next 3 or 4 days, maybe more as I’m not sure if I will have it or not at my next stop.  


So anyway, I am now on Isla Colon in Bocas del Toro, Panama.  I had so looked forward to this place, especially since the parts of Costa Rica I’ve seen have been so disappointing.  It’s okay, but not at all what I expected.  First of all, even though I’m surrounded by ocean, I can’t get there very easily and can only see a snippet at a time.  My hostel is about a block from the ocean, but I can only see it if I go to the 2nd floor and crane my neck over the balcony.  Businesses and hotels are lining the oceanfront, but none of it is beachy.  

Apparently, I have to take a bus to the beach, or maybe a water taxi.  And even then, it’s not supposed to be the best beach.  I’ll probably go tomorrow though - I’ve been looking forward to beach time since I got here.  I am also really interested in going to La Gruta, a cave where you can see lots of bats, but I’m not interested in taking a very expensive taxi there and back (the 4 year old guidebook says it should cost $10).  Even my 2 year old Costa Rica guidebook says everything costs several dollars less than it actually does.  


Again, lack of efficient public transportation fails me.  That was a big problem I had in Alueja and San Jose.  I couldn’t go to La Paz waterfalls or Poas Volcano because of a lack of public transportation options.  


I booked 3 nights here thinking the beach was right there (meaning walking distance).  I guess I also thought there would be more to see than there is.  I’ve pretty much walked the town.  Two or three times.  


This traveling alone thing isn’t working out very well.  If I was with someone else, the taxi ride to La Gruta would only be half as bad.  Food would be easier too.  It’s really too hot to cook.  In Europe my go to was bread and cheese, but here… the bread isn’t that great and 8 ounces of cheese is $5.00 (imported, I haven’t seen any local cheeses, here in Panama or in Costa Rica).  My go to here is juice and cookies.  It was bananas until I had 3 in one morning and I can’t do that again.  So I eat what I can find for breakfast unless the hostel serves it (I’ve had hostel  breakfast once out of 5 mornings).  I sometimes eat lunch out if I can find a place that serves vegetarian.  And afternoon snack/dinner is juice (or orange soda) and cookies.  So healthy I know, but I don’t have very many options here.  And even the “cook easily” options are limited to spaghetti.  


It’s so insanely hot here.  I don’t know what the temperature is, but I was literally melting when I returned from my hour long walk/sit in the tiny municipal park.  I’m not sure if it’s hotter or more humid than Texas, but here, there is no such thing as air conditioning.  You’re lucky if you get a fan.  I’m outside in the shade right now and I’m sweating.  


The place I’m staying is pretty interesting.  It’s called Spanish by the Sea.  It’s actually a language school.  I knew it when I booked the place and it would have been cool to take a class (I’m actually watching a class right now).  I didn’t book any classes though.  Additionally, I think they start classes every Sunday (and seeing as I won’t be here on a Sunday, I suppose it wouldn’t have worked out anyway).  

The hostel.  Not a terribly good picture, but nonetheless...

Actually, I can’t figure out the language here.  Every once in awhile I catch a distinctively Spanish word on the street, but often the language doesn’t even sound like Spanish.  I listened to a guy sitting next to me and couldn’t figure out what he was speaking, but he threw in an English word every now and then.  People here seem to know each other (which makes sense, this place isn’t very big).  NOTE*I have since read in the Panama Lonely Planet Guidebook that “Gali-Gali is a distinct Creole language of the Bocas del Toro Province that combines Afro-Antillean English, Spanish, and Ngobe-Bugle.”*


The airplane trip from San Jose to Bocas was an other worldly experience.  I arrived at the airport very early by taxi.  My flight was at 6.30.  The airport is tiny.  This one domestic commercial airline, NatureAir flies out of the airport.  As far as I can tell, all other aircraft were personal or perhaps for cargo.


I checked in for the flight and was required to weigh my bag (14.86 lbs of the 15 lbs limit).  And then I was required to step on the scale myself (with my carryon).  My passport was kept. (I’m not sure why and it freaked me out, but they took everyone’s.)  By everyone, I mean all 7 of us.  Four were German, 2 were… Swedish?  All were in their 20s I’d guess.  After our baggage was hand inspected, we waited and waited.  Finally, we were ushered through the security area.  I wish I knew they didn’t care about liquids before I bothered zip locking them.  Nobody cared about the extremely dangerous weapons in my shoes either.  That was a joke.  


The 7 of us, led by the pilot, walked out to the plane.  It was tiny from the outside and even tinier on the inside.  There were exactly 7 seats, including the 1 next to the pilot. The guy seated next to the pilot took advantage of the situation and filmed the takeoff and landing, and I’m pretty sure he took photos of himself seated next to the pilot.  


I was expecting this to be the scariest flight of my life - I’d been dreading it since before I bought the ticket.  But I also knew I wasn’t interested in sitting on a series of buses and water taxis by myself on a trek that would span 8 hours.  The flight itself was nice actually, and I wasn’t scared like I was expecting. I even saw a volcano smoking fairly clearly from my larger than normal window.  

The "baggage guy" unloading the 7 "checked" backpacks.  

The flight lasted all of 35 minutes and I was in Panama.  By the way, I didn’t mention that our “checked” luggage was actually packed into the main cabin with us.  I could see my bag if I turned around in my seat.


The best part about the whole experience was that I could walk to my hostel from the airport.  Airports are usually so far from everything, but this one is right there.  People live all around it and there is a ball field at the south end separated only by a chain link fence.  

The airport was under construction, but operations were as usual, which meant that we passengers simply walked through the construction to enter the airport.  I was the first called into the immigration office.  Yes, there was an office with one man sitting behind one desk.  He asked me some questions.  I answered and he carefully entered my answers into his ledger.  He stamped my passport and I was back into the holding room where my luggage was hand inspected again, but this time both carry on and checked bags.  


And finally, I was free, released into the wilds of Panama to explore and discover new things.  

24 Hours of Flying

24 June 2009

It’s been a long day. The adventure started at 5.15 AM GMT when I woke up and won't end until 10 PM CST (6 AM GMT) tonight when I finally arrive home.

I was on the 9 AM flight from London Gatwick to Atlanta. It took somewhere around an hour to get through check-in and security, but I made it to my flight on time.

The flight wasn't bad; I spent the time watching movies.

The flight arrived early and I spent my 6-hour layover in Atlanta talking to friends and family.

And here I am somewhere between Atlanta and Austin. The flight is supposed to come in a few minutes early (yay!)

Later...

At the Airport

June 22, 2009
5.17 PM

I have arrived at the Dubrovnik airport and am waiting for check-in to start (in another hour or so). It’s pouring - I can hear the rain over the music of my mp3 player.

There are two buses a day from Herzeg Novi to Dubrovnik. The first would have been too early and I was worried the second was going to be too late. I asked the bus driver to stop at the airport, and he agreed (I had been told he’s known to stop at the airport on the way to Dubrovnik). Otherwise, I would have had to go to Dubrovnik and worry that the airport bus wouldn’t match up with my flight time. So although I arrived at the airport four hours before my flight, this option was preferable (and seven dollars cheaper!)

I didn’t manage to get out of the internet café until about noon. I actually wasn’t even sure I was going to go to Herzeg Novi until then. The rain almost stopped, so I decided to go for it. I walked quickly to the bus station thinking I would be waiting awhile. I bought the ticket and was pointed to a bus that was backing up. I ran for it. I couldn’t have timed it any better. And bonus: the bus was 50 cents cheaper than I had been quoted.

Rain fell the entire time I was on the bus, so I was actually expecting to end up sitting at a café in Herzeg Novi for a couple of hours. Fortunately, the rain stopped long enough for me to explore Herzeg Novi a bit. Fortunately, the old town isn’t big and I had no trouble seeing the town in an hour or so.

Old town entrance.

Main square in old town.

The fortress.

New town.

I headed back to the bus station early, just in case. I was anticipating something going terribly wrong - I couldn’t imagine 3 buses, 1 airplane, and 2 trains all going without a hitch. Surprisingly, my only hitch (so far) has been a problem with the bus ticket between Herzeg Novi and Dubrovnik. When I arrived in Herzeg Novi, I asked to buy a ticket thinking that I would spend the remainder of the money. I was told that I could only buy the ticket on the bus. Apparently, the bus driver hadn’t heard that, because he sent me back to the cashier to buy a ticket (which she did). I suppose it depends on who is working. Fortunately (how many fortunatelys is that?), the driver was really nice and told me not to worry, just get the ticket and come back; he would wait.

Unfortunately, since I wasn’t sure how much the ticket would cost (I was told 8 Euro, but I didn’t quite trust that information), I couldn’t spend much of anything. I got a couple of small snacks, but I am sitting here starving and will very possibly be starving until tomorrow morning. Even if I had money to spend, there really isn’t much of anything in this airport and nothing worth spending money on.

I need to move. The woman next to me is driving me crazy. She’s pacing around eating a banana and just sprayed herself with a ton of deodorant.

Part 2

23 April 2009

I had absolutely no problems at the airport. I was expecting to be told that my bag was too big and be forced to pay 12 pounds because of the insane baggage limitations. Fortunately, nobody seemed to care how big my bag was.

At the Pisa airport, I spent a frantic 40 minutes or so trying to find an atm. I found one upstairs in an out-of-the-way nook and only later realized there was an atm next to the train tickets line. I also spent forever waiting in line to buy train tickets only to find that I could have bought the same ticket in a couple of minutes without waiting in line at the automated ticket machine outside at the tracks.

Pisa itself is uninteresting with the exception of the leaning tower. Apparently there are three leaning towers in Italy, but the one in Pisa is the most touristed/famous. I had to walk a kilometer or two to the tower. And there it was, next to the cathedral. Leaning. A lot. I took a few thousand photos, but didn’t bother to climb up. Instead I sat on the grass (I stepped over a chain and past a Keep Off the Grass sign to get to it) and took off my shoes. Locals were hanging out, playing soccer or talking. Tourists too were sitting on the grass, but I believe that there were more locals than tourists on this forbidden grass.


The leaning tower. Is it leaning or is it me??



The leaning tower and the cathedral. It's easy to tell how much the tower is leaning when compared to the cathedral.

The most eventful thing that happened in Pisa was being hit in the arm by a flying French soccer ball. After a really long time (like 30 seconds), some guy apologized.

Off to Florence.

It started raining while I was on the train. My umbrella came in handy, in particular to ward off anxious umbrella vendors (yes, they exist and pop out in droves at the first sign of moisture). I walked to the hostel immediately where Greg and I had decided to meet.

Both starving (he had traveled from Venice and had arrived about an hour before I did), we asked reception for a restaurant recommendation and headed out for a place with a fixed price menu. The pizza was pretty good.

Plan for Florence:

Uffizzi Gallery
Accademia
Market
Bird’s Eye View
Duomo