Iceland: Day 0

I’ve often wondered, in a jet-lag-fueled bout of philosophical thinking, just what happens to those hours you lose crossing timelines on an eastbound flight. Do they just wait there, in limbo, until you fly back and regain them? Are they lost forever?  Does time compress (it sure feels like it!)? There’s usually a few drinks involved, too, so I usually fall asleep and stop worrying about it.

But I hate flying. I hate it even more with the long lines at security, wait times that are bumping up into hours, seats that are shrinking down to barbie-sized proportions,  and the general nickel-and-dime approach to flying that airlines have adopted. Want a soda? Sure! Pay for it. Want to have a book on board? Sure! We’ll charge you for your carry-on!  I really hate the model that puts ‘lowest price on travelocity” as the goal.

But that is a topic for a totally different post. This one is supposed to be joyous and fun and kick off our fifteen-day trip in Iceland!

I was surprised to discover that Icelandair has a direct flight from Denver to Reykjavik. Actually, all flights from anywhere to Reykjavik are non-stop. They have fifteen departure cities in the US and two dozen or so in Europe, which is nice. It’s about a 7-hour flight from Denver, and since we normally try to fly business class, we opted for their version, called ‘Saga Class’. It’s the old-style business class — upright seats that are wider and have a bit of a footrest and more legroom, but no lie-flat pods or anything. Rather like it used to be on US Domestic carriers. But it’s comfortable, they serve pretty good food and free booze along with their on-demand entertainment system. Which I should learn to avoid on the overnight flights and just try to sleep.

One flight a day - from rain to sunny iceland!
One flight a day – from rain to sunny iceland!

Our flight was on-time out of Denver, they served a decent meal + wine, and we settled in to try to sleep. I was reminded once again that I cannot sleep sitting upright in a plane, I just can’t get comfortable and end up dozing off and on for the duration. Mr Phouka on the other hand, falls asleep as soon as the plane pushes back from the gate and snores quietly the whole flight. There are times I want to poke him with a fork, just so he can commiserate with me. I don’t.

Usually.

Instead, I haphazardly skimmed chapters of various books on my Kindle, looking for something that grabbed my attention, watched a quite horrible movie based on Frankenstein, and stared out the window, which never got completely dark.

I must have fallen to sleep at some point, though, since I got woken up for breakfast as we neared Iceland. A quick trip to the toilet revealed that my mussed-up hair made me look like a deranged Muppet, and I desperately needed to brush my teeth (thank you, Saga Class, for your little amenities pouch with a toothbrush and wee toothpaste tube!), but all was well and we would land in Reykjavik on time.

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