Thursday morning. 8:30 AM. Coffee, cereal, more coffee.
Earbuds in and RadioLab on, I walk to the train station. It’s almost a mile away, so I get a nice cardio workout during my commute. Good thing I pack extra deodorant in my backpack.
Ooh, there’s a copy of Metro on the seat next to me. Which is great, because I didn’t grab my own free copy from the station entrance because there were four thousand elementary schoolers walking down the sidewalk. (Not an exaggeration.) I read the news. Okay, mostly I read the Rush Hour Crush.
Class. Intercultural Discourse. We’re talking about miscommunication. There are ten people in my class from six different countries. We’re basically studying our own interactions. We’re miscommunicating about miscommunication. It’s fun.
1:00 PM (13:00). Class is over and I’m out the door because Jonathan and I are headed to the bus station then other bus station then the airport then Oslo. I’m already exhausted from this travel and I’m only talking about it.
4:30 PM (16:30). Our first bus gets stuck in traffic and we only have ten minutes to get to the next bus. Also it’s a mile away. We’re sprinting. More cardio. (More deodorant.)
4:40 PM (16:40). We make it to the bus station, our driver only slightly side-eyes us, and we collapse into the first row. Did I bring my inhaler? Because I need it.
7:40 PM (19:40). It was supposed to take one hour to get to the airport and it’s taken three. Our flight is in ten minutes. Ten. Minutes.
7:41 PM (19:41). The visa check line is wrapped all throughout the room. When we get to the front of the line, the checker says “You might make it. I’ve seen miracles happen.” K, thanks.
7:45 PM (19:41). Security randomly pulls my bag to be checked. Jonathan sprints off down the hall to our gate.
7:50 PM (19:50). My turn to sprint. (I’m committing to always wearing sneakers on travel days now.) Our gate is Z10000, the furthest gate possible. Jk, but you do have to take a train to get there.
7:52 PM (19:52). Jonathan is bantering with the gate guy. (You know, the guy at the gate. Whatever.) The plane we should be on is pulling away from the terminal. Three girls standing a few feet from Jonathan are alternately sobbing and swearing. (I’m also swearing, but under my breath, like a lady.)
7:53 PM (19:53). Jonathan and Gate Guy are basically best friends but obviously we’re not going to Norway tonight. In fact our plane was the last one to leave from that terminal tonight so Gate Guy calls Security Guy and Security Guy takes us on a secret route back to the airport lobby.
8:00 PM (20:00). We consider sleeping on the airport floor and catching the first flight out tomorrow.
8:01 PM (20:01). We find out how much it would cost to rebook our flight. We no longer consider sleeping on the airport floor. Instead we get sandwiches and crisps and stand in line for a bus back to London.
Friday morning. Very, very early. We finally get back to our flat. We collapse in bed. I never even finished that RadioLab.