Logan Airport. Take Two.
Well…here I am again. Chilling in Logan Airport waiting for the plane to board. Once again, people are standing up, crowding the gate, hoping to get on the plane as early as possible. Only this time, something is pretty significantly different. Instead of standing around staring at each other sullenly, everyone is chatting amicably. The four kind old ladies from Dublin are laughing about something with the Norwegian couple. An Icelandic native is showing an American tourist the best way to capture the Northern Lights with his camera. At least two people have finished and swapped books (myself included – The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks for Madeleine Albright’s Prague Winter). The young couple with the baby, who were the recipients of so many frowns last night, are talking about baby girls with the new grandmother on her way back to France to spend time with her daughter.
No one, of course, is going to say that they enjoyed the past twenty four hours – we have waited three hours to be told our flight was cancelled, waited in line for our new tickets, waited for the buses, waited to check in at the hotel, waited, waited, waited. An experience, yes, but not a particularly pleasant one. As I just overheard the retired physicist from Kansas tell the computer scientist from Iceland, however, “we’ve already met a bunch of Icelanders, and they’ve all been very nice.” It bodes well for a good rest of the trip, I think (hope).
In the most epic of ironic situations, this beautiful advertisement can be found over security:
It was supposed to be me… Mom went to the Blue Lagoon this morning without me, and will enjoy our first night in Reykjavik by herself. My flight is now getting in tomorrow morning, just in time for our Golden Circle tour. For now, I’m going to try to get some sort of sleep on this five hour flight.