The Icelandairport is all windows and angles, modern architecture that lets in enough light to keep claustrophobia almost at bay. In the long customs line a Frenchman was irate about his confiscated airline champagne while his wife blushed and put her shoes back on. A grip of nerves made me hesitant before we got to the stamp window.
"What should I tell them I'm here for?"
Tyler said "The truth" and walked up ahead of me. Stated his case plainly, confident in three-piece and tie, then turned back toward me in near-pajamas and told the stamp man,
"She's with me."
My turn at the window and before I could try to justify myself KERCHUNK and I was through. Success!
Our hour layover eaten up by lines, it was no loss that sit-down meals were not an option in the tiny terminal. Still starving, Tyler plucked a lone sandwich from the almost empty cafe cooler and we sat down to scarf. "Smoked Lamb and Italian Salad."
Mayonnaise
Mustard
Chopped Egg
Pimento
Peas (whole, green, firm)
VERY Smoky Lamb (lunch meat thin slices)
Iceland can keep its cuisine to itself. We abandoned the crusts and hopped onto our next jet, sliding in at the rear of the line. Our seats straddled the aisle, but too tired to care we slumped down and held hands across it. At the window beside me a Genuine Scandinavian Specimen: Tall broad shouldered, pale skin bronze from arctic ultra-violet, long platinum hair tied thickly back. All in white, his transparent arm hairs crystallized the window light. Upright I slept, aware but couldn't care even when the food came by. Four hours.
Open air stairs to the tarmac always make me feel like an Onassis. An over crowded bus hauled us to baggage claim and I got to the bathroom before the rush. Tyler sat me on a row of chairs and waited for the bags. Waited waited waited. I almost nodded off again before he dragged them over. No customs--surprise!--and we'd arrived. Welcome in Helsinki!
Again he sat me down, exhausted, and went to search out snacks. Sandwiches brought back: rough squares of grainy bread chock-full of vegetables, with meat (not lamb), and not a pea in sight. The sandwich of salvation, every bite like water for a desert thirst. My stomach had shrunk in protest to neglect but that perfect nourishment, all vitamins and fiber, settled in for the long haul and made peace between us.
A bus, a tram, a helpful eaves-dropping Finn with directions, and we located the boat. Consigned to more expensive tickets than I wanted, three windows drew their blinds behind us. Just in time for the last sale. Now we wait again to sail. Ship terminal cafe, a spare seafoam green throwback to American nostalgia--all chrome and big dim rounds of light above the empty tables. Huge windows anticipated docking ships and looked out on a wide black watered harbor. Finally Tyler relented and stretched out sleeping on the floor between table and wall. I took the time to update you, and Facebook. Toward 9 I faded and the Viking Line came just in time.
Desperate for comfort, worn and weary from cramped spaces and strange places, the astonishing vessel seemed like a reward. Luxurious, rich woods and Soft Corinthian Leather met plush carpeting and a star spotted ceiling. Restaurants, lounges, observation decks awaited our perusal. Enthusiasm replaced exhaustion one last time, enough to enjoy a hot meal and share a tiny champagne bottle toasted to our endurance. Confronted by a sudden puppet show, we hurried out of the family dining room and sampled the open deck, deep pink light still hovering on the edge of the world.
I wondered aloud if the sun would set further tonight, so close to the pole in summer. Some Russians discussed Dostoevsky in his native tongue. We left the warm breeze and settled with ottomans in the Viking Lounge where the light was faint and passengers were quiet around us. Again almost unconscious upon arrival, I sensed the end of my rope drawing near. Almost here. Bags heavier than ever for that last exertion near the promised end of our excursion.
Only two wrong turns and we found it, the Tallink Express Hotell awaiting our collapse. And we did, to the spattering of rain on the window. Slept like the dead, and woke to a new life. Welcome in Estonia.
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