Just like the movies

Everyone can appreciate a dramatic turn in a movie- the airport is a prime scene for these things.  The truth is, of course, that nothing good is ever going down when you have a dramatic moment in an airport.  In the movies, you see the man realize he’s letting his one true love slip away, but he catches her just in time.  In the movies, there’s lots of rapid movement.  Not a lot of that happens in real life.  Reality has far fewer lovestruck fools chasing one another about through sparsely crowded terminals, but yesterday, Cas and I did a bit of an airport jog.  It wasn’t properly movie-screen dramatic, but for us, it was a bit of a plot twist.  Our flight path had us heading from Dallas to Seattle to Portland (Oregon, not Maine), then over Santa’s house to Reykjavík.  The first leg of that journey started off a little, tiny bit later than it should have, so it threw the rest of it into question mark territory.  Hence, the airport run.  In the movies, they don’t really direct your favorite actors to respond visibly to the carry-on luggage they are carrying-on in these airport runs.  Actors seem to be empty-handed, in great shape, unimpeded by other travelers and arriving in the nick of time.  At least we hit that last mark- the nick of time.  In Portland, our gate got changed to a different terminal, and we were late to arrive, so there was a pretty significant hustle.  We got there, and the gate agent had given our seats away.  Great.  So he assigned us to what was left.  Cas got plunked into a middle seat on row 28.  There’s a piece of good news.  I somehow got seat 1A in first class.  Wow.  Also, it’s a nice bargaining chip.  Cas was in 28B convincing the guy in 28A to take the first class upgrade I was offering way up front.  It was barely a half hour on the plans, anyhow, but I like to sit with my guy.  From there, we got to Portland, and suddenly, Cas wasn’t appearing to have a ticket to Iceland.  Dumbest plot twist ever.  I swear, the seat shuffle game from Seattle must have bounced him out of the rest of his reservation.  So Cas went to the gate agent to plead his case.  Something like, Hi.  We bought tickets just like all of these other folks, and we sure do want to go on the trip we paid for, and if it’s not too much trouble, can we maybe sit near each other?  

It’s tougher than it sounds.  It took a bit of finesse from a nice Iceland Air employee at the counter in the Portland airport, and honestly, I think he fibbed and told a man I had anxiety about being separated from my husband.  I mean, I don’t like it, but it’s not cause for a meltdown.  Nevertheless, way back at row 30, we sat together and made our way to Reykjavík.  It sincerely should not have been that difficult.  From there, things got a lot less dramatic.  We made it to the airport, got our ride to the hotel and threw down a few extra bucks for a very early check in.  Like before 9am local time.  The hotel we’re at has a 3pm check in, so sitting here at 2pm, post nap and post shower is a joy we were not guaranteed.  

Here’s hoping the rest of the travel is more run-of-the-mill.  Drama is fine for the movies, but I like a boring amount of reliability.  

Cas and I are off in an hour to do our first activity- the Reykjavik food walk.  I am ready for it.  I’ve been warned about fermented shark and a beverage called Black Death.  I have a roll of chewable Pepto that I hope I won’t need.  Let’s go have some adventures!